#her slideshow had me dead

[maeriavizsendingjpmdose]

no words, just.. rawr :3

#protect iris at all cost #ultimate cutie #kawaii #her slideshow had me dead #iris #american horror story #ahs #ahs fandom #ahs hotel #meme #ahs memes

[olderthannetfic]

You've encountered site changes over time as a fan elder, what do you make of Tumblr potentially being put out to pasture? Tumblr was my coming of age fan site, and im looking for advice to transition to the next thing with grace and less bitterness than I feel now.

--

Ahaha. God, you should have heard the howling about LJ. "Fandom is over!" "Never again shall we dwell in fandom's True Home!" etc.

Hell, this endless "only LJ was good" crap turns up in replies here on posts where I as OP have very clearly laid out why that's rose colored glasses nonsense and you can so make friends on tumblr, have a conversation on tumblr, etc.

I had my crabby phase about this during the transition from Yahoo Groups to LJ. A lot of the real olds had it over paper zines and the transition to the internet.

I don't know if reading these hilariously samey old posts would help. It does give perspective, I think.

--

As for what you should do, do what I did with Tumblr:

1.

Look around to identify the Next Thing fandom is going to camp out on.

It may take a few guesses and some time to figure this out. You will likely not be an early adopter. Fandom was well established here by the time I joined at the end of 2010. Of course, by now, all those 2009 and before accounts are long gone, but at the time, I was a n00b joining other people's space despite having been in fandom for ages.

2.

Don't expect to enjoy it

I didn't join tumblr because I liked it. In fact, I despised it. I kept right on despising it until a brief stint in Sherlock fandom, a fandom that was so active here at the time that I was able to finally see the good aspects of the site's structure and features.

This is the mistake a lot of people make. They give things a cursory try, don't enjoy them, and go "not for me", forgetting that the last site also had a steep learning curve that was either difficult or that they didn't notice because they were in a different phase of their life.

Bitterness and grief are, frankly, an inherent part of the process. You can try not to be a debbie downer in your public comments, but you can't just not feel those things during the awkward part of the transition. Sometimes, acting positive and cutting off excessively negative thoughts can make you feel less negative overall, but it doesn't happen immediately.

3.

Accept that feeling cranky and old is both a you problem and a state of mind, not a property of the new site

Relatedly, the way we remember fandom platform X feeling usually has more to do with us being in college with fandom friends down the hall or having discovered Our People for the first time or some other time when we had a lot of energy and positive emotions. Often, we were in the throes of a first or new fandom love too, probably for some megafandom that other people also cared about at the same time.

When fandom is leaving some site, there's a grieving process anyway, but we're also often in a worse part of our lives for starting new things. We're busy. We're tired. We're between fandoms. We feel like we already paid our dues to build up our community. Why should we have to start again?

But let me tell you, you always need to start again eventually. I go to a weekly vidders' zoom chat, and a lot of the people in there are old as balls, including Kandy, the person who invented vidding back in the 70s. She's a lot of decades and a few cancers in, and she had to relearn how to vid on a computer after transitioning from slideshows to VCR vidding back in the day. If bad health, platform changes, and dead friends were going to stop her, she'd be long gone.

It's like sharks: you stop swimming, you die.

This isn't just about fandom, obviously. It's about avoiding a midlife crisis and, later, about avoiding feeling emotionally geriatric even when your body is falling apart.

Change gets us all, but being mentally old is a choice. The real reason I gave tumblr such a try was that I had been so resistant to getting on LJ. I was 20. Even a year later, it was fucking embarrassing to have been a crotchety old hag as a college student. I promised myself I'd soldier through the next change instead of dragging my feet about it. And it totally worked in the end! But boy did it not make the transition any less unpleasant emotionally!

4.

Find your joy

As is obvious from the above, the vast majority of the problem is just emotions. Fandom has been on a million broken sites with shitty features. We go where the people are, regardless of whether it has the technological aspects we liked at the last place. The actual shape of that platform is largely irrelevant.

What does matter is whether we as an individual fan are still excited and happy about something. I was between fandoms recently and went looking around for BL series I hadn't watched yet. People kept suggesting things set in the present day with too-cheesy production values and too many banal schoolboys in modern day settings without even anything spicy going on. I realized that the BL/danmei scene wasn't really cutting it for me and I should go for production values and genre and non-canon ships. You probably scrolled annoyedly past the picspams that resulted.

(Of course, hilariously, someone has now shown me the trailer of Red Peafowl, so someone may be making BL that feels like it's for me after all. Look at all that badwrong and very dark color grading.)

When you're in a good place emotionally, it's a hell of a lot easier to weather any change, and when you have a new fandom, it's a lot easier to connect with other fans.

A lot of people wait around for lightning to strike twice. They found their first fandom by accident, and they expect it to happen seamlessly again. For me, it's far more productive to brute force it: collect up a big list of what's popular or what's new and go through it till you find things you might like, then try them all.

And part of this, obviously, is not waiting for other fans to make the party happen. The more you need to join something other people are already doing, the less choice you'll have in fandoms or in platforms. If you aren't picky and just go where the tropey longfic is, that can work, but even then, favorite authors disappear or go to fandoms you hate and former megafandoms dry up. If you're the one bringing the party, it's a lot easier to find a new fandom or platform or community to have fun in.

[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-

#hananene #tbhk #jshk #hanako kun #toilet bound hanako-kun #yashiro nene #tbhk manga spoilers #aidairo #my ramblings #my rambles #i literally have to wake up in 3 hours what am I doing #Yknow screw school Hananene is more important #i love angst #they’re so bittersweet #and beautiful

[morganbritton132]

Eddie goes live two days before he is supposed to leave for his Vegas shows, mainly to remind his fans that they added another night so tickets were available but also to talk about his favorite subject, Steve. He’s all smiles and giddy, sitting in his car.

He looks into the camera and says, “Do you hear that? I don’t know if the speakers are picking up the frankly ear-shattering volume of Tears for Fears emitting from my house right now, but I can hear it in the driveway. I fucking hate this band and Stevie knows it.”

“We are two days out from Vegas and he’s stepped up his passive-aggressive bullshit, so you know what?” Eddie grins. “I’m going to romance him so hard that he can’t keep up the act. So, come along. We’re planning a date.”

Eddie goes to four places – a flower shop, a fancy chocolate store, the grocery store, and Steve’s favorite restaurant for take-out. He gets a big bouquet of flowers. He gets a ridiculous amount of chocolate. He gets the cheesiest romcom he can find on Blu-Ray, a bottle of cheap wine they got when they moved into their first apartment together, and ice cream.

“I know, I know,” He says to camera as he’s walking through the store. “I can see the comments now – Eddie Munson’s idea of romance is the same as your broke ex-boyfriend, or whatever. Steve and I have been together since the eighties, we’ve done all the big grand gestures, and what you learn is that being together is the only thing that matters.”

Eddie drives home and walks into the kitchen where Steve is baking – something he only ever does for school functions and when he’s really pissed off – and he turns off the Tears for Fears album. Steve looks up at Eddie with his chocolate and flowers and says in a voice that is full of barely-concealed anger, “Are those for your best friend, Diane?”

There’s a pause and then Eddie says in a voice that completely drops the Eddie Munson larger-than-life persona that he adopts for online into something instantly annoyed when he says, “Are you fucking kidding me?“

“I don’t know, Ed. Why don’t you text Diane and ask her since you want her to know all of our fucking business.”

You can only see the pattern on Eddie’s reusable grocery bag when he drops everything on the counter, but you can hear how tense it is in the room when Eddie laughs, “You are so fucking unbelievable sometimes. You’re pissed at me because I asked our neighbor for her number that you wouldn’t give to me. I’m taking precautions because I’m leaving town, Steve.”

“Why’d we get a fucking dog then, Eddie?” Steve asked, snapped at him. “I didn’t want a dog but we got one to reassure you. To put your mind at ease and – and it doesn’t fucking matter? You’re still going to go behind my back and talk about my shit to – to fucking Diane like I’m not even a part of the conversation? If Ozzy’s not enough why do we have him? Why not hire a fucking nurse if you think I’m so incapable-“

“I don’t think-“

“You’re treating me like a baby that you need to find a babysitter for.”

“You cracked your skull open and laid on the ground for days the last time I went out of town! You were non-responsive. I thought you were dead. I trust Ozzy. I think he’s enough but what if he’s not? I’m sorry that our neighbors hate you and I had to ask the one you don’t like, but I’m not apologizing for worrying.”

Steve starts to respond but that seems to be the moment that Eddie realizes that he’s still live streaming because it cuts abruptly. He does not post anything for the rest of the day.

When he does post again, it’s a short slideshow of him and Steve having the date night he’d planned and a short little apology for ‘Mom and Dad’ fighting. The video is captioned ‘All good.’

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

#live streams that go from oh!? to oh no!! #I debated this one because I think it’d be awkward to witness #Steve seems like the type to sit with his anger until it blows up and Eddie gets loud when he’s confronted #they don’t fight often and never for very long but there’s yelling #Diane casually mentioning Eddie stopping by to get her number and just ruining Steve’s whole day #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga

[gogh-with-the-flow]

Blood in the Wine-5

Chapter Five: Tannins

A/N: so, uh... it's been a while, huh? yeah... I'm sorry about that. but I'm two months sober, now. I just want to thank everyone who has been checking in and has been offering me support and kindness. I can't tell you all how much i appreciate it. Well, I hope this was all worth the wait! I feel like this chapter felt a little rushed, but let me know what y'all think. Love you! xoxo

Reader x Vampire!141

Warnings: Blood, injury, yelling, SMUT (I know y'all have been waiting for this) oral sex (f receiving), fingering, fem!reader, blood kink

(yeah I had to use the sexy Sleep Token song okay sue me)

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH6, CH7

---

Your feet seemed to move on their own accord, boots sticking in the mud. You tripped over yourself as you scrambled off the forest floor. And then you were running. You heard the haggard breath of the monster behind you, felt the hot puffs from its mouth on the back of your neck, but you didn't dare look behind you. You felt sharp claws graze across your back, tearing through your shirt and knocking you facedown on the ground. Before the monster behind you could completely overtake you, another body rushed past you. Sounds like animals fighting roared out behind you. Once again, your boots squelched in the mud and you got back on your feet. You kept your eyes forward as you sprinted through the forest. 

You should've been lost in a maze of trees and underbrush, but something in the pit of your gut told you where to go. The dirt pounding under your feet guided you, the trees whispered to you their secrets, and you followed the road of their roots systems until you broke out into the clearing once again. 

You squinted as the moonlight flashed in your eyes, so bright compared to the pitch blackness of the forest, and ran straight into something firm, but soft. Something familiar. You felt arms wrap around you, and your brain tried to tell your arms to fight back, but you froze all over again as a voice called out loudly next to your ear. 

"I've got her!" The voice was familiar. 

"Get her inside, now!" Someone else called from the other side of the clearing. Before you could register who was speaking, you were moving- or rather, you were being moved. The arms around you lifted your weight easily, and the world around you seemed to flash by in a slideshow of blurry snapshots. Your surroundings morphed into one another until your feet were planted onto the floor of Price’s study. Vertigo threatened to overtake you, but someone strong held you steady. 

“I've got you, love. I’ve got you,” the rich voice crooned. 

“Gaz?” you asked. Your whole body was shaking from adrenaline and your head was still spinning, but you recognized the voice. It was him. He shushed you gently. 

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. You’re alright.” He seemed to be convincing himself as much as you. His hand stroked the back of your head, and the other held you securely against him. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you were willing to bet he was listening to it, too. 

“Gaz, what the hell was that thing?” you asked into his neck where your face was still buried. 

“Don’t-” then the study door burst open. You flinched, and maybe you screamed, expecting that Dead face to be the one to greet you, but instead it was one equally chilling. Price slammed the door closed behind him with a look of unrestrained fury trained on you. 

“What the FUCK were you thinking?” he roars, taking long, calculated strides at you. “You stupid, stupid girl. I give you one rule to follow, ONE RULE, for your own safety, and you can't even listen to that?!” Gaz, to his credit, does his best to physically shield you from Price’s rage, pushing you behind him; but he can only do so much. Your mouth opened, and you tried to find the words to defend yourself, but they got stuck in your throat, blocked by the terror you couldn’t get ahold of. 

“John, please, just-” Gaz starts to try and diffuse the situation, but Price shoves him away with a snarl, leaving you bare and exposed to his wrath. 

“Do you understand you could’ve been killed? Do you not understand how dangerous the night is here? He would have ripped you apart, had you stayed out there a second longer.”

“Wh… who?”

“You’re lucky he had enough self-control not to tear into you then and there in the woods. No, instead he sunk his teeth into the next moving thing he saw, which just so happened to be Soap.”

“What? Is he okay?” Gaz interjected, concerned for his- boyfriend? What were they to each other? Now wasn’t the time to think about it. 

“He’ll be fine… he’ll heal,” Price answers, scrubbing at his beard and screwing his eyes closed. “You…” he started, pointing a finger and taking a dangerous step closer. His eyes were dilated and he licked his lips. There was no doubt he could smell the blood seeping out of your back. “Now, what are we going to do with you? Hm? I trusted you, gave you freedom to wander. I thought you’d be smart enough to heed my warnings, but clearly you’re not.” He raised a hand, seemingly to grab at you, but stopped himself short when you flinched away, clenching the hand into a fist and forcing it back down to his side. He shook his head. 

“Should I put a collar on you like Soap? Hm? Or should I chain you up in the cellar? Maybe a bedroom is too good for you.” He was leaning into your face at that point.

“John, stop.”

“I tried doing this the easy way- Tried giving you a choice. But if you want to act like a prisoner, maybe I should-”

“John, that’s enough!” Gaz interrupted once again, putting a firm hand on the older vampire’s chest and pushing him back. Price looked at him, stunned. You assumed Gaz standing up to him wasn’t a common occurrence. “Look at her, she’s scared out of her mind already. You’re making it worse.”

“She deserves to be scared.”

“She deserves an explanation. She deserves answers.” Price considered him, chest still heaving in anger. 

“Fine. You want to give her answers? Go ahead.” he motioned between Gaz and you. “But for fuck’s sake, don’t let her out of your sight.” he looked at you once more, swallowed hard, and then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him again. 

A moment passed in silence. Gaz stared at the door with a look of disbelief. But then his eyes snapped back at you when a terrified sob clawed its way out of your chest. Your eyes were unfocused and your arms trembled as you hugged them close to your body in an attempt to shelter yourself. Gaz took a tentative step closer, holding his hands out in front of him. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay," he cooed, speaking to you as if you were a wounded pet. Your body flinched away at first, but with more gentle words, you relaxed enough to allow him to place an arm around your shoulders and guide you to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Hey, look at me." 

Your eyes snapped shut and you turned away from him at those horribly familiar words. Look at me. How could you ever look at him again? He sighed and placed a hand on your cheek. 

"I'm not going to compel you again. I promise." You choked through a couple more sobs. You couldn't trust his word. He'd betrayed your trust irreparably. Even still, his voice sounded so sincere. But didn't it always? You opened your eyes. 

"There she is," he said, smiling softly. "Just breathe for me, okay? In and out. With me." He did his best to guide your breath, and tried to calm you as much as himself. He kept swallowing, his mouth watering at the smell of your freshly-spilled blood. "Nobody's going to hurt you in here," he told you, but you still felt like prey. 

"I c- I can't!" You gasped. 

"Yes, darling, you can. Please, your heart's racing like mad." You knew. You could hear ot pounding in your ears. It would have drowned out Gaz's voice if he weren't so close. And goodness, he was close. 

"Price is gonna kill me!"

"No, he's not."

"Yes he is!"

"He can't hurt you! He can't!" You shook your head, but he continued. "He literally cannot hurt you, love. Listen to me." You quieted yourself the best you could, the rush of blood in your ears quieting minutely. "Once we entered the pact with you to keep you as our familiar, a bond was made. Your pain became our pain. Everything you feel, we feel, too. Price can't hurt you without hurting himself and the rest of us."

"But Ghost hurt me out in the woods."

"And he felt it. We all did. Trust me. He was blinded by his bloodlust, he didn't have the mind to stop and think. He held back as much as he could." 

"How are you holding back, then?" you wondered out loud. Would he pounce on you at any second? Was your time running out? You noticed the tension in his shoulders, the same tension you held in yours with every stinging throb of the shredded skin on your back.

"With great difficulty,' he answered through gritted teeth. He met your eyes, his pupils blown. He swallowed. "Can you please turn around so I can close the wounds?" 

"Close the… you're gonna feed on me like this? Now?" you asked. Your legs tensed up, getting ready to run for your life again. 

"No! No. Not really. I mean, technically, I'll still be- well- consuming your blood, yes. But just what's leaking out already. I won't bite you, I swear. Just- please, you're dripping all over the couch, love.” He tentatively pushed on your shoulder. “And the smell, it's driving me mad. Please just turn around." The desperation in his voice was clear, close to begging. And the stinging behind you was getting harder to ignore with every passing moment. 

You turned around, exposing you bloody back to him. You reached behind you to tug the tattered fabric up your back, but Gaz was quicker than you. 

Rrriiip!

You gasped at the obnoxious tearing sound, suddenly feeling much too hot and much too cold all at once. The remaining fabric of your shirt fell down your shoulders and you crossed your arms over your chest to prevent it from falling off altogether. 

"Gaz!" You scolded, but your admoniment fell on deaf ears, and you gasped once more at the sudden feeling of his soft tongue gliding up your back. 

He licked up the dripping rivulets of scarlet blood that wound down the canvas of your exposed back, before fixing his mouth on the five slashes. The sharp pain subsided to a tingling as one by one, with each swipe of Gaz's tongue, the wounds sealed themselves. His tongue and lips felt so soft and plush. 

You'd never thought to consider the space between your shoulder blades to be an erogenous zone, but as Gaz kissed and licked his way all over you, taking his time to clean every drop of your blood, you found yourself panting with want. His breath was so hot against you, heightened by the wetness of his spit left behind. 

It must be their venom. It has to be some kind of aphrodisiac. 

Gaz kissed his way up your spine and into the scoop of your neck. His lips lingered there. He promised not to bite. 

"I swear, you're the best thing I've ever tasted in both lives," he whispers into your skin. Your body flushed with another wave of heat. 

"What does it taste like?" You asked, voice equally hushed in anticipation- for what, you didn't yet know. His fingertips brushed up your arms. 

"It's hard to describe… it still tastes like blood, that hasn't changed. It's more like our perception of it changes. Imagine going your whole life hating chocolate, and then one day you wake up, and suddenly it's all you crave. And everyone around you smells like chocolate. 

"Some of them smell like cheap candy melt chocolate," he says, pressing another kiss to your bare shoulder, "others smell like Godiva." He kisses you again, working his way up your neck. "And you, my love…" His lips touch that sweet spot under your ear. "You taste like the whole damn sweet shop," he whispers directly into your ear. His hand grips your arm, guiding you to turn back to face him. His mouth and chin were ruddy, stained with the remnants of your wounds. 

"Like the finest artisanal chocolate this world has ever seen." His eyes are fixated on your lips. Those dark, crimson eyes that you'd pretended were brown because you couldn't help but want to get closer to him. You were closer, now, that much was certain. 

His chest was pressed against your back, the fabric of his shirt a little too rough against the raw, sensitive skin. He really was close. Your breaths, panting in synchronicity, mixed together to form a tiny hurricane in the centimeters between your lips. 

"Bitter and sweet, rich and full." He licked his lips and your eyes darted down to the movement of it; slow, swiping along his bottom lip, collecting your lingering taste. "Addictive. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." He smiled. "You'll rot my teeth right out of my head, you're so sweet." 

And then he kissed you. And God, you let him. His hand found itself cradling the back of your head, and you turned to fully face him. You tasted your own blood on his lips again and it was dizzying. 

This paradox of a man. Feeding off of you, draining you, but you'd never felt so alive before. Here in his arms, you were electrified. The terror of hardly an hour before was now long forgotten- a lifetime away. You found life again in the lips of a man who'd lured you to your near-death. 

Your ruined, bloody shirt slipped off your arms onto the floor. His palms rubbed up your sides as he devoured your mouth, though less literally as he did your blood. His tongue had made its way into your mouth at some point, and yours into his. You fell into a rhythm together, somewhere between tender and desperate. God, your heart was racing, and he could feel it. Every thumping beat rattled his ribcage as if it was his own; as if his dead lump of muscle had come alive again, fed by your crimson drippings. 

Your hands, trembling, fisted themselves in his shirt for a moment, then they fluttered like birds to his neck, pulling him closer against your chest. His shirt was still there. You wanted it gone. 

As if he read your mind, Gaz disconnected your mouths to discard his shirt, also wet with your blood, and tossed it on the floor with yours. He stopped to take you in, his eyes gliding over the ink in your skin, and then froze at your breasts: pierced. 

Gaz moaned. He glanced up at you, waiting for your permission. You answered by grabbing hold of his wrists and guiding them up your sides, to the front and finally onto your tits. He looked as if you'd given him the best gift he'd ever received. 

He squeezed your malleable flesh in his hands, rolling them, massaging them. He lit a spark in your cunt, and when his mouth attached itself to your nipple and sucked, the spark caught fire. You grabbed desperately at the short curls of his hair and whimpered. Gaz took this as encouragement, and nibbled lightly on the bud. You jumped, feeling his sharp canines graze your tit, but it never broke the skin. His tongue twisted around your nipple, and then he moved to the other breast.

The cool air against your spit-wet tit made goosebumps erupt under your skin while Gaz gave the same treatment to your second nipple. There was no hiding it: you were wet. His maroon eyes looked up at you while he sucked and you knew that he knew. 

He abandoned your tits to chase after your mouth again. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tight to his chest. The kiss was sloppy: wet with spit and tinged with blood. 

Gaz guided you onto your back. The leather couch was cool and soothing to your feverish skin. 

"Let me taste you," Gaz pleaded. His hands left their positions on your tits and glided down your body. You arched your back into them, until they landed on your hips, the tips of his fingers just barely hooking into the waistband of your jeans. "Please- fuck- please I need to taste you."

"I thought you already did," you said, unable to resist a little teasing. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at you. 

"I want. To taste. Your fucking. Pussy." He looked you dead in the eye as he said those words, making sure you understood each syllable. Something misfired in your mind, and you suddenly were unable to speak. This wasn't compulsion, though. This was pure arousal that weighed down your tongue. All you were able to do was hold his gaze and nod. He tisked his tongue at you. 

"Say it, love," he commanded. He kissed your lips again. "Go on, tell me what you want. 

"Taste me," you relented. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

"I thought I already did," he threw your words back at you. Two can play at this game, apparently. But you could play it better. You spread your legs for him and arched your hips against his hands. You leaned up and whispered into his ear. 

"Eat my pussy, Gaz." His body shuddered above you. His hands found your button and fly, and he pushed your jeans down your legs until they were stuck around your ankles above your boots. His brows scrunched together in irritation as he struggled with the laces. His eyes glanced up at yours at the sound of a soft giggle escaping your lips. He rolled his eye at you and in a flash, your boots were off and scattered across the floor. He smirked up at you. 

“How did you…?” you began to ask, and his smile grew wider as he rolled your jeans down and off our legs. He kissed his way up from your calves and nipped at the soft fat of your inner thighs. 

“Don’t worry about that right now, love. I’ll answer your questions after I make you cum on my tongue.” You shuddered at the low tone of his words. His eyes scanned over your body, moving down from your eyes to your chest, and finally to your dripping cunt. He lapped at the wet spot on your underwear with closed eyes and moaned into the fabric. He breathed in deeply through his nose, inhaling your musk. He cursed under his breath, already intoxicated on you. 

His hands rubbed up and down your thighs as he licked and lapped at your cunt, teasing you until you whined his name, begging for him to hurry up, to give you more. Finally, he took pity on you and hooked his fingers into your panties and tore them off your body, throwing them into the growing pile of scrapy, ruined fabric on the floor. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking down at your glistening pussy. He was mesmerized at the way it glimmered in the flickering firelight. He teased two fingers through your folds and spread them open. He touched you like the pages of a holy book: with reverence and awe. He took his sweet time studying the way your pussy moved under his touch until once again, you had to snap him out of his stupor. He glanced up at you for the briefest second, and then dived in. 

He licked into your lips and moaned aloud, finally getting a taste of your wetness. You whimpered when the tip of his tongue prodded at your clit, and he took notice right away. He licked it again, once, twice, and then latched onto it, determined to pull more of those perfect sounds out of you. He gazed up at you through his eyelashes, and you couldn’t look away. The fire in his eyes sent a fresh wave of pleasure down your spine. And then you felt it: how easily he slipped a finger inside, and you threw your head back in pleasure.

He curled it into you slowly, pressing up inside you at a spot that made your thighs shake. You couldn’t be bothered to keep quiet, and Gaz couldn’t get enough. He added another finger and shuddered at the way your pussy practically sucked his digits inside. He started to build a steady rhythm, gaining speed and intensity with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue, every suck of his mouth on your clit. 

You could hardly get enough oxygen in your lungs. Your chest almost burned with need, the tips of your fingers started to tingle. Your moans got louder and louder, until your shouts were reverberating off the walls of the study. Your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto, something to steady yourself, and locked onto the curls atop Gaz’s head. His name tumbled from your lips. A prayer, a warning, a plea. You were close, and he knew it. He could tell by the way your walls fluttered and gripped his fingers; by the way your hips bucked against his mouth; by the way your back arched and your thighs twitched. He watched you, studying the way you writhed from him. His cock twitched in his trousers. It was him that had you moaning and coming undone on this couch. 

Your orgasm knocked the wind out of you. A sound that was halfway between a moan and a scream left you as your legs locked around Gaz’s head. You threw your head back, your pussy clamping down on his fingers, and gushing over his forearm; your cum added to the puddle of blood and slick beneath you. He groaned, lapping wildly at you, licking up as much of your taste as he could manage, drinking you up like communion wine. Sparks lit you up inside from your belly up your spine. You writhed against his mouth and hands, grinding your hips against his tongue until it was too much, until you felt like you’d burst. 

He lifted his head and let you catch your breath. He watched you twitch from the aftershocks and sucked his fingers clean of your sticky cum. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw him already looking down at you. He took his cue and crawled up your body, kissing your stomach and chest and finally your mouth. He slipped his tongue past your lips with ease and you moaned at the taste of your own cum. His hand cradled your head and the other wandered up and down your body. He settled himself between your legs and grinded his bulge onto your cunt. 

“Please,” he begged into your mouth. “Please, let me fuck you.” You dragged your nails down his abdomen, scratching the sparse coils of chest hair and the hard muscles on his stomach, past his happy trail and down over his pants to grab his hard cock through the fabric. He moaned lowly. 

“Yes,” you panted. “God, yes.”

---

Tags:

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#cod #cod vampire au #cod:mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare ii #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #johnny soap mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #poly!141 #vampire!141 #bitw #blood in the wine #Spotify

[harlstiel]

TELL ME WHY I'M ARGUING WITH A KATE-ARGENT-APOLOGIST ON TIKTOK RN-

The post was on of those "I am your father" "nuh uh" slideshows with Gerard and Chris and someone in the comments asked "Where’s Kate?" And as a joke, I said "dead, hopefully"

And they went on this long, illegible tangent about how Kate was loyal to Gerard, how they hope she survived after Season 6, that she was a good aunt, and HOW MUCH THEY LOVE HER...

Like, bestie, did we watch the same show? The one where Kate was proven to have sexually assaulted a teenage boy, burned his family alive, tortured him, etc...

And then, when it's revealed she didn't die in season 4, turns him BACK into a teenage boy, tries to turn Scott into a Berserker, and tries killing them all again.

And kidnaps Derek AGAIN IN SEASON 6.

Not to mention that, when it was all said and done, she and Gerard were going to kill each other in the finale anyway. That doesn't seem very loyal to me.

Like, I get liking certain villains like Theo and Deucalion because they were iconic and had development. I also get liking ones that were just plain evil and had no development like VOID because he was also iconic.

But Kate? No. Not iconic, and frankly, you shouldn't LIKE CHILD-MOLESTING ARSONISTS.

What is wrong with people?

#teen wolf #derek hale #kate argent #gerard argent #chris argent #tiktok

[softlyapocalytpic]

I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.

#astra rambles #astra meta #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fallout 3 #It’s early morning and I need to go back to sleep #but these thoughts needed to be typed up #all these games have flaws BUT HOLY FUCK never ever think I hate any of them #there’s so much there #I feel so much about this world #it means so fuckinf much to me and I just #know that I love them #that I want to see something bloom from them

[jinxquickfoot]

@badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Grief/Mourning

Find the fic on Ao3!

Inspired by @16woodsequ's wonderful The Alternate End

Part I: Nebula

He’s put this off as long as he can.

Tony knows he should have done this much sooner. God knows how much pain Nebula’s been in while he’s been skulking in his hospital room, refusing to talk to anyone except Pepper. They’re probably all too occupied with their own pain to care. They probably think he’s angry over the Accords, the betrayal that still lingers there. He's still angry. He hadn’t realized until he was face-to-face with Steve Rogers in the home he’d decided wasn’t good enough for him anymore.

But that’s not why he’s avoiding everyone. He knows it makes no sense—after a long month in the cosmos, wondering who had lived and who hadn’t, he should just be relieved that they’re still here. Relief isn’t the word he’d use, though. It’s resentment.

He doesn’t care that he wasn’t strong enough to go after Thanos. He doesn’t care that the Mad Titan is dead. He doesn’t even care that the remaining Avengers hadn’t been able to win, not in the way that mattered. Tony had known it was hopeless long before they left the Compound. He knows because he’s been fighting this war longer than any of them. He’d known since he’d flown through the wormhole that this day would come if they didn’t pull out every weapon in their arsenal. Ultron, the Accords, scoping the planet for new talent like P—

Tony swallows back images of a dying planet and Mr Stark I don’t feel so good to focus on the project at hand. Nebula is already nervous enough without Tony’s mind being on a past he can't fix. There was never going to be a ‘fix’, this war always had to be won before it was fought, and no one had listened to him.

“We can wait another day,” Nebula bursts out. She’s been quiet since getting on Tony’s operating table, lying still and rigid as Tony tries to get a hold of himself enough to do this. She pushes herself up, swinging her legs over the side. “There is no urgency.”

Tony catches the flippant comment that comes to his lips. He’d gotten Nebula’s entire depressing backstory during their time slowly starving to death in space. He can’t imagine she associates body part replacement with fun and laughter. He nods at her damaged hand. “You can’t do anything with those fried wires. It has to be done sometime.”

“Some time does not have to be today.”

Tony pushes the rotating slideshow of Titan to the back of his mind, moving into her path as she attempts to leave. “Hey. You saved my life in space. I would have died of infection or, if I somehow survived, gone completely insane up there without our invigorating paper football tournament. Let me repay the favor.”

He forces himself to be patient as Nebula stares at her damaged hand. “You want to make us equal.”

That’s not Tony’s MO, but if it’s what gets this done, he’ll take it. “Yeah, sure. Equals” When she still looks nervous, he adds, “Besides, we don’t have to do the actual replacement today. I’m just mapping to get an extent of the damage before we take anything out or put anything in.”

It’s a straight-out lie as he’d been hoping to get this done all in one session, but Nebula’s shoulders finally relax. “Okay,” she allows. “We can do that. And you’ve done this before?”

Tony exhales, reaching for a holodisplay and moving it around so Nebula can see. He’d hoped to put this off until it was absolutely necessary. He doesn’t want to be reminded. He wants to take Pepper and find a cabin in the middle of nowhere and shut out the world forever. He shouldn’t have to fix things anymore. That’s what he’s been doing, for years, and he’s done it alone.

But Nebula shifts on the table, and Tony reminds himself that she wasn’t part of any of those fights, and it wouldn’t help to win the trust of a friend who comes without baggage. Bracing himself, he brings up the schematics for Vision.

Nebula’s breath catches as she takes in the holographic blueprints. “How much did you replace?”

“Replace?” Tony catches on and hurries to explain. “No, no, he was made like this from the start. He’s not a human we… Jesus, we don’t do that here.” He forces back images of a silver metal arm.

Nebula processes that. “He is all mechanics?”

“Was,” Tony murmurs. “Thanos…” He can’t bring himself to end the sentence. The death of half the universe chokes the Compound like a smog cloud, but the overwhelming nature of it has stayed in the abstract. Even now, weeks later, Tony cannot fathom just how huge a loss god knows how many planets have suffered. He can barely wrap his head around the death of four billion human beings.

But the knowledge that one of their own had been murdered in battle… That he can picture. That he can comprehend. Because one of his first ports of call when he could get out of bed without collapsing was Wakanda to retrieve Vision’s body.

He doesn’t know what to do with it. Vision had been very clear that in the case of his death, his parts were to be dismantled beyond repair. Tony knows he’s the best person left in the world for that job. It doesn’t mean he’s been able to bring himself to do it. He’s still not sure if the idea of keeping the corpse of a team member in the basement indefinitely is worse than the empty coffins they had buried on the Compound grounds.

“My father was a monster,” Nebula murmurs, staring at her toes. “I was never going to please him. And yet I tried to anyway. I would have done anything for him.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Tony scrubs at his eyes, zooming in on the blueprints for Vision’s arm that will become the basis for Nebula’s new one. “Here, you can follow along with everything I’m doing…”

He trails off when he hears a sob come from the operating table.

He freezes. Their entire time in space, he had not once seen Nebula cry. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him cry, either. It hadn’t mattered up there, not in any way that counted. They didn’t know who was gone. All they knew was that they would be gone themselves in barely the space of a few weeks, and then their grief wouldn’t exist.

But they didn’t die. Their grief didn’t pass into oblivion. They returned here, to Earth, and learned exactly what Thanos had taken.

Tony still replays that moment of seeing Steve sprinting toward the spaceship. Of Pepper following close behind. Seeing Rhodey, calling Happy. Realizing that, by some impossible odds, all the original six members of his team had survived the Snap.

Nebula hadn’t had that. Her team had crumbled in front of her. More than her team.

Tony moves over to her bedside to take her undamaged hand. “Thanos wasn’t your family,” he assures her. “You found a much better one. One who actually loved you. I know the feeling.”

"My sister..." Nebula angrily wipes away a tear. "She should not have shown him the Soul Stone to save me. I was not worth that sacrifice."

Tony squeezes her hand. "I doubt she saw it that way."

He sits and lets her cry into his shoulder as long as she needs to. He could have it worse. He could have lost so much more. He could still lose so much more if he stays in this mindset. He can’t change the past but he can stop it from changing him into a shape he doesn’t want to be anymore. Resentment is corrosive. He can’t afford it to spread when the rest of his life will revolve around construction.

Tony mentally puts aside Nebula’s repairs for another day. He has other building to do, anyway.

Part II: Thor

Clint’s gone and even Natasha can’t find him. Bruce is on the other side of the world, helping rebuild where he can, making vague promises about return dates. Tony’s not ready to face Steve. That leaves one.

The Asgardian refugees have taken over the Compound grounds. They’ve provided what they can for them but Tony still feels ill when he can see how few of them are left. Thanos had slaughtered half of those he'd found on the Statesman and then killed another half in the Snap. Asgard was gone, torn to pieces by an apocalypse they were never going to escape. Living on Earth feels the same way. They’d always known it would end here. Or at least, Tony had known.

He wonders if that is why his grief feels a little more tempered than the others’. This wasn’t a sudden loss for him. It’s the result of slowly losing a war, piece by piece, over the span of years. He always knew that they would only get one shot at victory. He’ll never know the future Strange saw where they scraped a win. He just gets this one and he has to do what he can with it.

He doesn’t find Thor with the rest of the Asgardians. A few conversations are enough to guide him to a tent in the far, far back, stationed away from all the others. Already a bad sign. So is the fact that the tent is dark as he approaches. Tony awkwardly paws at the tent cover to announce his presence in lieu of knocking, then calls out for good measure. “Thor. It’s Tony.”

He doesn’t get an invitation to come inside. He doesn’t get a refusal either. Good enough.

Thor doesn’t move from his prone position as Tony unzips the tent and steps inside. There’s no blanket over him or mattress underneath him, with barely the base of the tent to protect him. “You have a room at this Compound, you know. I built one for you. Just in case.”

Thor doesn’t look at him. He just keeps staring at the roof of the tent. “I will be with my people. Least their king could do after my brother sacrificed half of them for me." He spits the name of king out like venom. "After I could have killed Thanos when it mattered." 

Tony still hasn't been able to wrap his mind around the image of Loki dying in a heroic attempt to kill Thanos. Whenever he thinks of the trickster god, the memory that tends to come to mind is Loki throwing him from a window or the mass of black clothing at Phil Coulson's funeral. If Bruce hadn't been the one who had told him the story, including Loki handing over the Space Stone to spare Thor's life, Tony wouldn't have been able to believe a word of it.

"I don't have siblings," he says. "And I know things between you and your brother were... complicated. But there were a lot of steps a lot of other people could have taken and didn't. It's not all on you." He's suddenly back on the spaceship again, listening to Strange lecture him about how he wouldn't give up the Time Stone even if Peter's life was on the line. Tony doesn't want to know what choice he would have made if it was up to him. "Guess it's easier to say you'll give everything up to save the world than to actually do it. You gave up more than most already."

Finding the Asgardians a more permanent new home is on Tony’s to-do list, but losing half a population apparently wreaks havoc on a planet’s infrastructure. There’s been so much to do, from getting hospitals up and running, to restarting supply chains for food, to getting entire cities’ electrical grids functioning again. After months of work, the world is somewhat physically functional again. Tony doesn’t know how many decades will pass before the human race emotionally recovers. He knows it will be a long, long time after his lifetime.

“Well. It won’t be tents forever. I can promise you that.”

“Promises,” Thor scoffs. Tony fights the sudden urge to bolt in the other direction. It isn’t right, seeing one of the strongest Avengers and one of the last to lay down in a fight so utterly void of spirit. Then again, none of them are themselves these days. “Wouldn’t make any promises. They just end up broken.”

“A lot of things have ended up broken.” Tony sits cross-legged in the tent, plucking at a stray thread in his jeans. “Luckily, I’m pretty good at fixing things.”

Thor’s next words are a whisper. “There’s no fixing this. It’s gone. It’s all gone, and it’s not coming back, and we’re all just going to have to live with that.”

Tony closes his eyes. He knows that’s true. He knows that they will never, ever get back to where they were. But they can take baby steps in the right direction. He reaches into his pocket. “I know you’ve lost a lot,” he says, the words so unbelievably inadequate that he almost quits then and there. He stays, though. He doesn’t get to quit. That’s not a luxury he’s had since Afghanistan. “More than most of us.”

Thor shifts slightly. “It does not help to compare losses.”

The guilt Tony’s been feeling since he returned to Earth swells, but now is not the time to voice it. “I can’t bring Asgard back,” he says. Even now, with half of Earth’s life lost, he can’t comprehend the magnitude of losing his entire planet. “Or anyone you’ve lost. But I’ve been thinking…” His mind trails to Nebula’s newly equipped arm, which he had put the final touches on that morning. “We have to focus now on what we can get back. Or find replacements for, at least.”

Thor finally looks at him. “Do not suggest that there is any replacement for…” He trails off, anger abating when he sees what Tony is holding. “Is… is that for me?”

“The talking raccoon told me the one you’re using… well, actually, you don’t want to know where it came from.” Tony holds out the mechanical eye he’s spent the past week perfecting. “Besides, I don’t think you’re really pulling off the whole heterochromia look. Thought you looked better in your classic blue.”

Thor gently takes the eye, marveling at it. “Thank you, Stark. And for letting us all stay here.”

“I’m not letting you do anything. I built this place for the Avengers. That includes you. Use this place as you see fit—hm, I could have used some warning there.” Tony barely has time to look away before Thor casually pops his fake eye out, tossing the brown iris aside. Tony waits until the squelching sounds have stopped before he risks looking back.

“How does it look?” Thor asks.

Tony takes in the two symmetrical eyes. To his trained gaze, the mechanical one is ever so slightly glassier. It’ll never live up to the original. But it’s a start. “You look great.”

“I doubt that is true.”

Tony hovers awkwardly, not sure what else to say. “Can I do anything else?” he tries.

Thor is quiet for a long moment before he speaks. “Perhaps…” He suddenly reaches out, grasping for Tony’s hand. Tony lets him take it. “Stay, for a while?”

A part of Tony rebels against the idea. He’s got so many things he’s supposed to be doing, to be building, to be fixing. Then he looks at his friend, sprawled and miserable on the ground, and realizes that fixing doesn’t always have to require tools and a workshop. “Sure. I’ll stay.”

Part III: Steve

Things don’t get better, but they do get easier.

The number of global catastrophes has reduced. Supply isn’t where it used to be, but at least most people have access to food, power and clean water. The daily body count of new Blip-related deaths reduces. Tony had provided whatever resources he could, but even his wealth couldn’t keep up with locating and identifying the bodies. There were those who had died on the roads after drivers had Blipped or had been on suddenly pilot-less planes that had tumbled from the air. There had been those who died in hospitals with drastically reduced numbers of doctors and nurses. And then, worst of all, the orphaned infants and small children who had perished from neglect.

A grateful universe, Thanos had called this. The Mad Titan title has never felt so fitting.

Tony finds Steve by Bucky’s grave.

They’d given each Dusted Avenger a tombstone: a place for the living to mourn the dead. Tony deliberately does not look at Peter’s as he approaches.

Steve must hear him coming but he doesn’t raise his head. He’s bent over a compass, holding it so tightly that Tony fears it might break. He figures that’s as good a place as any to start the conversation. “Careful. You remember you have super-soldier strength, right?”

Steve’s hold doesn’t loosen. “It hasn’t broken yet.”

Tony takes his place by Steve’s side. He wishes the pain of what happened in Siberia would dwarf in the magnitude of the Blip. It hasn’t. It’s just been buried, pushed aside until Tony’s heart has room to feel it again. “Rhodey says you spend all day out here.”

“There’s nowhere else to be. There’s nothing else I can do.”

Tony knows the feeling. “Still. It’s freezing out here.” It’s not, really. It’s just something to say to fill the silence.

Steve pulls the compass close to his chest. “Bucky gave this to me. Two weeks before he died. He was different after Azzano. Like he knew. And he followed me onto that train anyway. ”

Tony casts about for something to say to that. “Weren’t they already… doing stuff to him in Azzano? Winter Soldier stuff? That might be what he had been feeling. Not some kind of death premonition.”

Steve doesn’t react mollified by the words. He doesn’t react at all. “You know he had the offer to go home after Azzano? He could have. He didn’t. Because he chose to follow me. Then, in Wakanda, he was at peace. And I brought a war right to his doorstep.”

“I don’t think the narrative is that simple.”

“If I had—”

“What?” Tony interrupts him, a little harsher than he means to. “If you had made Wanda kill Vision earlier? It wouldn’t have mattered, Steve. We lost the second Thanos got his hands on the Time Stone.” He ghosts a hand over the scar disfiguring his abdomen. Why? he wants to scream at Strange. Why would you do it? I wasn’t worth it.

“Wanda could have killed Vision the second we knew Thanos was coming to Earth. It wouldn’t have mattered,” he continues. “And as for going to Wakanda—that wasn’t just your choice, Steve. All the Avengers with you chose to do that. T’Challa chose to open his borders to you. Everyone in that battle chose to fight. You didn’t pressgang them. In fact, I don’t think pressganging the Dora Milaje is humanly possible. Wakanda was the most prepared place on Earth to tackle an alien invasion of that magnitude and their technology probably prevented the pre-Snap damage from being even worse. Those aliens would have torn apart the Earth for Thanos.”

Steve is quiet as he absorbs all of that. “You’ve thought a lot about this.”

“Yeah. For six years.” One future where they win. Tony’s been ripping himself apart trying to imagine what it would have been, what step they didn’t take. Maybe there were more futures, earlier in the timeline. Roads not traveled that didn’t end with a line of empty graves.

“I know you tried to prevent this,” Steve says softly. “I have been thinking… Ultron, the Accords, if those had played out differently--”

“Don’t,” Tony cuts him off. He’s done dwelling on this. He can rage and storm and shout I told you so all he wants. It won’t fix anything. “It’s done. We’re here. We need to make what we can of it.”

Steve is still staring at Bucky’s tombstone in a way that’s becoming increasingly unnerving. “This is the second time I’ve buried an empty casket for him."

Tony swallows, all too aware that he nearly made that a full casket in 2016. If Bucky was still here, Tony would have apologized with an arm, like the one he had built for Nebula. But unlike with Nebula and Thor, there is nothing Tony can physically build here to offer comfort. At least, not anything he’s thought of yet. "I know I ruined things that day in Siberia," he manages. "That I made you choose between the two of us. That wasn't fair. That isn't who you are."

"Tony—"

"No, just let me say this. And fine, maybe, we could have made a few more sacrifice plays along the way and not ended up here." If Gamora had given up Nebula, it Loki havd given up Thor, if Strange had given up him. If Steve had given up Bucky, all those years ago, instead of fighting entire governments for his freedom. "None of us had the strength to do it. The only person who did was Wanda and then that didn't even matter. And maybe if we had... well, maybe we stop being the good guys the moment we start trading lives."

He's not sure how much of his own argument he believes. But, for the first time since he can remember, he has more goals than trying to prove that he's right. “I was relieved,” he finds himself saying. “When I stepped off the Benetar, and found out Pepper and Rhodey and Happy had all lived.” He doesn’t mention Peter. He hasn’t been able to put into words what exactly a teenager from Queens had meant to him. “I still feel relieved. And that feels awful. And it also feels awful that it doesn’t feel more awful.”

“I’m glad,” Steve murmurs. “I’m glad you got to keep them.”

Tony keeps an ear out for any bitterness in those words. He doesn’t hear it. Steve is being honest. Tony swallows past the stubborn lump in his throat. “I was relieved as well… when I saw you. When I got my feet back on land and saw you were there. I was relieved.” More than just relieved. In those first few minutes, none of their fighting had mattered. Tony had been grateful to tumble into the arms of a friend—someone else to hold him upright for a few moments.

Steve nods slowly. “I was too. I didn’t want to hope too much, not after weeks of not knowing, not after we’d lost so many. But I couldn’t kill the hope entirely. And then you were there, alive and…” There’s a small hitch in his voice. “God, Tony, if it had been Bucky and Sam and you, I don’t think I would have…”

Without letting himself think about it too much, Tony reaches out to grip Steve’s shoulder. “We’re still here. Still fighting. That’s something. That has to be something.”

Steve nods again. “We’ll make it something.” It’s the first time he’s sounded like himself in months.

“That we will.”

"Maybe..." Steve shifts his gaze, past Bucky's grave to Sam's. "Maybe fighting looks different now. Like... like what Sam did. At the VA." He straightens at little at the promise of a mission. "Maybe it would help."

"I have no doubt it would. God knows how many people out there need someone to talk to." Tony looks from the grave to Steve. “You know, I had the wild idea I might cook tonight. Want to make sure I don’t set the kitchen on fire?”

For a terrifying moment, he’s sure Steve is going to say no. Then, the man seems to pull some of his shattered pieces back together. “Well, we can’t have a fire, I guess. Been putting out enough of those already.”

It’s not a miracle cure. No one is magically better. But Tony gathers whoever is left and makes something hot and homemade with minimal kitchen damage, and for once the conversation is more than about the work they’ll have to do tomorrow.

He can’t fix the world. But he will fix what he can.

#bad things happen bingo #bthb card #grief #mourning #mcu #marvel #post-Snap #the Blip #avengers: endgame #whump writing #emotional whump #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Nebula #Thor

[marixrose]

Count Lucio - Anniversary

I was wandering around the palace searching for something to do. I married Lucio a year ago. It was fun at first but then he had other things to do, but now it’s boring not having anyone around. 

Tomorrow is our anniversary, I haven't gotten him anything yet despite all the time on my hands because Lucio refuses to let me work. 

I sigh before walking to our shared bathroom to change and go to the market to hopefully find someone that would be to Lucio’s interest. 

On my way to the market a shop caught my eye. It had a golden sign and said “Memory Globe”. Being curious, I walked inside. 

The bells attached to the door rang as I entered and an older woman welcomed me in. “Hello! Hello! Welcome to my shop, anything in particular you are looking for dear?” She spoke in a lively tone. 

I shook my head, “I’m just wondering what you sell Ma’am.” 

“Ooo that’s a great question, we’ll it’s exactly what the store is called. I sell memory globes.” 

“What exactly are memory globes?” I asked confused but intrigued. 

“I use a spell to put memories you select into a clear crystal ball and they play kind of like a slideshow.” She smiled. 

I think this would be the perfect gift for Lucio, I can put memories of us two together and place them where we can rewatch the best memories of our lives. 

I smiled back at the woman, “How much for a globe and how many memories can we choose?” 

“It’s 15 gold coins per memory.” 

I’m limiting myself to spending 45 coins on Lucios gift, so three memories will have to do. 

“I would like 3 memories,” I say as I hand her the coins. 

“Thank you, follow me to make the globe.” She says as she leads me down a hallway. 

Purple tensile is draped over the arch of the hallway, crystal lanterns float around, and the smell of lavender fills the air. Very soft music takes place in the distance. 

She leads me to a room with a table in the center, two chairs surrounding it. She waves for me to sit down, and I do. 

In the center of the table is a globe that looks empty. She grabs a book that says Spell Book on the cover. She turns to the page she needs and looks at me. 

“I want you to envision the three memories you would like to choose, have them in the front of your mind. When you are ready, tell me and I will begin.” She tells me. 

I begin to search my mind for the best memories. 

I chose one with me and Lucio stargazing. Another with me and lucio baking cookies together, even though he burnt the cookies. The last one I picked was the one with me and Lucio dancing barefoot in our pajamas in the moonlight on the balcony. 

I smiled to myself remembering all these good times. 

“Ready.” 

She did her spell and before I knew it I was watching my memories inside the globe, I giggled when I saw myself throw flour in Lucius face. The woman smiled at me, “I hope you like it.” 

“I love it, thank you so much.” 

“Of course.” 

I grabbed the globe and put it in my bag. 

I waved at the woman before making my way back to the Palace, smiling to myself all the way home. 

As I entered the Palace I saw Lucio pacing. “What wrong, love?” I asked. 

He stops pacing and turns his head to look at me. The next second he’s making a dead sprint towards me. 

I yelp as he engulfs me in a hug. 

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving. I thought something happened!” He said, voice shaking. 

I rubbed his back, “I’m sorry, I was in a hurry and it didn’t cross my mind to let someone know.” 

He huffed before pulling back, “You better remember the next time you want to go somewhere or else I might have a heart attack.” 

I laughed, “You’re being over dramatic.” 

He frowns, “You never know Y/n!” 

I rolled my eyes continuing down the hall towards our room, “Whatever you say darling.”

He follows behind me. “You know what tomorrow is right?” He asks me, squeezing my hand. 

I want to mess with him, “No? What’s tomorrow?” I say, trying my best to play dumb. 

He gasps and stops in his tracks. “How could you forget?!” 

I burst out laughing, “I’m kidding, it’s our anniversary.” 

He looks offended by my outburst, “That’s not a funny joke babe.” he pouts. 

“It’s definitely when I get to see you act like that.” I say smiling, beginning to walk again. Lucio not following far behind, still upset over my ‘joke’. 

He soon got over as we reached our room, “You missed dinner, so you want to eat?” he asked me. 

“No thank you, I'm not hungry.” I say opening our door. 

I placed my bag down, which made a noise when it connected with the solid surface. This gained Lucios attention. 

“What did you get love.” He asked as he tried to grab the bag, which I pulled out of his reach. 

“Guess you’ll find out tomorrow won’t you?” 

He whined, “If it’s my gift I want it noowww!” 

I rolled my eyes again, “You’re such a baby.” 

“Am not!”

“Are to.”

“Y/N!” 

“Lucio!”

“Please?”

I was taken aback because Lucio never says please. 

I weigh my options in my mind, eventually giving in. 

“Okay, fine.” I say reaching in my bag to grave the globe. I hand it to him with both hands. 

He watches our memories play with wide eyes which quickly soften. I watch as a wave of different emotions cross his features with each memory. 

“Do you like it?” I asked, afraid I didn’t pick the right gift. 

“I love it, thank you darling.” He says, kissing me before placing the globe on his bedside nightstand, “Now when I can’t sleep at night I can just watch this and fall in love with you even more.”

I blush at his comment then smile, “I’m glad you like it. But it’s only fair if you give my gift early too, you know!” 

He looks at me and pretends to look hurt, “I am your gift!”

I laugh, “Please return it!” 

Lucio laughs with me, “Not the response I was hoping for.” He says.

He walks over to our closest and opens it. He walks inside and walks out with a box. 

He sets the box down in front of me with a wide smile. 

I cautiously lift the lid to find a puppy. 

“AWW you shouldn't have!” I say as I lift the dog out of the box, “This cute thing was sitting in our closet this whole time!”

“No, I just got him today, don’t worry, love. Do you like him?” Lucio asks me. 

“Of course I do, thank you so much. Happy anniversary dear.” 

“Happy anniversary darling.” He says laying on the bed, I soon join him. 

I never let go of the puppy. 

“What are you going to name him?” Lucio asks me as he strokes my hair. 

“(You Choose)” I say, petting (D/n).

“I like that name, hopefully Mercedes and Melchior like him too.” 

“I’m sure they will.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“I love you Lucio.” I say kissing his forehead, before getting comfortable to go to sleep. 

“I love you Y/n.” He said, still running his fingers through my hair. 

We fell asleep like that. 

#count lucio #the arcana #lucio the arcana #count lucio x reader #lucio x apprentice #lucio x reader #the arcana apprentice #the arcana game

[vodoriga-art]

And the sun rises in Barovia.

A few people were curious, so I wrote down the 6 hour fight and condensed it as much as I could. The ending was not what I expected at all and I don’t think I’ll ever have a campaign like this one or character like Kaspar again. Many thanks to everyone who during these two long years and 22 sessions entertained me with tags on all the art of my poor guy 🖤

✨🦇 !! EDIT: if you're reading this now , I made a page with super condensed OC info with no campaign spoilers and links to longer posts such as this one, in case you want to read about the whole situation. 🦇✨

Major CoS spoilers below!

(The way DMs did Strahd is they made him a two phase fight, first lvl 20 battlemaster fighter in full plate + greatsword and later lvl 20 wizard)  

The party went into the crypts to find the tome and the Sunsword. They fight some zombies and two of the brides in Strahd’s crypt. They find the items in his coffin, Ireena reads everyone the whole tome (8 pages that the DM wrote) and gets a headache as her memories come flooding back, fighter picks up the Sunsword because Ireena can’t handle the emotions coming from it. They go over to Sergei's tomb where Ireena prays and they finally head to the chapel.

Meanwhile Kaspar has collected Rahadin's corpse from his office (sewn his head back on and put his guts back inside etc.) and brought him to the chapel. Strahd is there in gorgeous dazzling gothic full plate minus helmet. They have a funeral. During this Strahd is crying tears of blood and is so angry, furious, but mostly keeping it in. Facial muscles twitching. Short replies through gritted teeth. It's becoming clear to Kaspar that he has little chance of getting Strahd to care for him now that Rahadin is dead but he accepts that he deserves it. Just a few hours before his demeanor and talking to Kaspar was completely different and made him feel understood and comforted and safer than he felt anywhere in a while, and this was a total flip of mood.

Strahd wants the whole party, including Ireena, dead. Kaspar feels like shit because he did everything he could to please Strahd (murdered the party wizard earlier) but this wasn't enough (losing Rahadin tilted Strahd too much for him to be the sweet caring kind of manipulative that would 200% work on Kaspar), and Kaspar is terrified and also realizes he can't back out of this even if he wanted to, believing that Strahd is now the source of his cleric powers, and he needs Strahd in order to look for a vampirism cure.

The party, including Ireena and Ez, finally all arrive to the chapel through the main door and find Strahd and Kaspar standing over Rahadin's cold body on the altar. There's incense smoke everywhere and the two of them turn to the party at the same time.

The party tries one more time to try get Kaspar to ditch Strahd. The artificer gives him a syringe full of his blood that he prepared before for Kaspar to drink if he needs to feed. He makes a little slideshow projection of all the not completely horrible times they've had in Barovia together. Warlock and wizard are still convinced Strahd has done this to him and it’s not just Kaspar’s selfish choices that led him to this point.

But Kaspar doesn't trust them not to kill him and he's deluded enough to think Strahd actually values him a little, or at least more than the party does, and that he would let him look for a cure if he pleased him tonight. Ireena and Strahd are having a staring contest inches away from each other.

Every door slams shut, all of the stained glass windows shatter inwards, glass shards rain down around us, mist begins to seep inside replacing the incense smoke Kaspar was burning for the funeral, and we roll initiative.

During the first or second turn Kaspar when called a traitor and questioned why he did this says he "is doing this for love." And Ireena is furious "You think Strahd loves you??" and Kaspar says "I'm not talking about him!" and the whole party is like ????? then who??? (he meant Kelemvor ofc)

Ludmila shows up to try and redeem herself after she failed to protect the heart. Kaspar actually gets teleported outside because the artificer thought the windows overlooked an abyss and not a courtyard but it's actually convenient for Kaspar to be out of everyone’s melee reach.

The fighter crit fails on a swing and the Sunsword flickers out completely as Strahd parries the sunlight with his pure black blade. He can't get it to turn back on even on his next turn (DM treated the Sunsword's sunlight blade as a dragon’s breath recharge when it goes out).

Strahd then charms the warlock who spends two turns doing nothing, except unsuccessfully casting Banishment on Kaspar to temporarily put him somewhere safe. Kaspar, even though he still intends to kill everyone, feels some sorrow for the warlock because he has just minutes ago felt the the first inkling if pure cold dread of being in Strahd's clutches against one's will.

Kaspar commands the fighter to toss him the Sunsword hilt while standing on the edge of one of the shattered windows, instead of catchin it he moves his hand and thr sword lands way outside in the courtyard. Soon after this, Strahd isn't happy with what the artificer is casting and completely slaughters him in one turn. Ludmila scurries up to drink blood and it costs the guy a death save. Strahd finishes him off. Artificer is dead.

Ireena, in full plate, does a cool running jump and gets up to the window to demand from Kaspar the diamonds he was given by Ez before as the remains of the shattered stained glass cut into the one hand she’s using to hang from the window. He left them in Strahd's study and tells her as much. No one is casting any revivifies this time. Fighter also shows up to retrieve the Sunsword.

Now the fighter and Ireena are both armed and close to Kaspar basically deciding which one of them wants to obliterate the traitor.

(at this point a symphonic metal cover of Hopes and Dreams is playing)

Eventually Strahd runs out of superiority dice and rips all the armor off as Bucephalus appears and Strahd goes into caster mode. Across the room in the window, a flying Mordenkainen finally shows up and looks down at Kaspar all disappointed like "Really lad?" (Scottish accent, very important)

Ludmila is vaporized by Ez. Then Ez goes down. Artificer has been fully dead for over a minute.

Right now Kaspar is back inside the chapel and the wizard is actually trying to talk to him instead of swinging weapons and spells like everyone else because of the earlier exchange about love that left everyone puzzled. But especially her because she’s all about love 💗 He tells her he is selfish and not ready to die because he wants to keep loving Kelemvor even if he isn’t loved back. Tries to convince the wizard that she, being a clever wizard and great alchemist, could help him find a cure for everyone with this curse. If faith and magic aren't enough, then science and medicine might be the answer. But he has to survive this for that to be possible. With 9 CHA he is not very persuasive, mostly pathetic and pitiful.

Ireena is fully yelling at Kaspar now that “there IS NO CURE for vampirism except death and that it's the best they can do to free him from Strahd and from being this thing he’s become” and he's like "NO, I CAN DO IT OR I'LL DIE TRYING, just because van Richten couldn't find one doesn't mean it's impossible, get away from me, I have no choice anymore" etc.

And of course everyone in the vicinity is like BUT YOU DO HAVE A CHOICE!!!

And he's explaining to them he refuses to die before he can find a cure and die outside of Barovia where his soul can go to Kelemvor’s plane and he doesn't trust them not to kill him, because unlike Strahd none of them could understand what he is (deranged blood drinking human meat eating monster) and they've looked at him as a feral monster since the moment he got turned even though he never asked for it.

Ireena says "Do you think that he (Kelemvor) would love you now?"

And by now Kaspar is baring his fangs, eyes glinting red in despair, "No, but I still want to stand before him so he can tell me that himself," through gritted teeth.

Anyways Strahd almost Finger of Deaths Mordenkainen. Level 7, 8, 9 spells are flying.

Ireena, the wizard and the warlock are now surrounding Kaspar, Ireena's hand firm on his shoulder, weapon ready in her other hand, trying to convince him to help them and to snap out of it, that he can have Strahd's whole library and everything else he needs to look for a cure, but to please help them. Freaking Ghost Love Score starts playing as he stands there speechless for a while and they're all just exchanging desperate looks while the music plays. And he just disengages out of Ireena’s grip, and backs off against the nearest wall to spend his turn sobbing and nothing else.

The wizard and Ireena actually did really good irl persuasion here, I was SO conflicted as was Kaspar I thought I was about to start crying fr bc Kaspar was so scared and torn like I don't want to be in this prison but I don't want to leave either I don't know what to do I'm just an awful human being and a traitor either way. Had Strahd not been so cold and threatening earlier this would not have worked. But seeing as his anger made Kaspar feel nothing but rejected and useless despite his best, cruelest, unforgivable efforts, he considers the people he spent the last few weeks with, and all they did together. And what Kelemvor would want him to do even if he is undead now.

NEXT ROUND Kaspar, scared as shit that it might kill him instead, shuffles a few steps and feeling like throwing up casts flame strike on Strahd to get that radiant damage in. The pillar of holy fire descends on Strahd, scorching him along with the wizard’s wall of fire.

Ireena, now with the Sunsword, and Ez who got healed in the meantime, both run up to Strahd, and both whiff horribly. The sword completely flickers out AGAIN. Strahd is looking a little worse for wear but still disarms Ez.

Mordenkainen is nearly dead as a shadow keeps draining his strength (he was down to 3 STR). The fighter just can't make his CON save to end Strahd’s Power Word Pain 4 rounds in a row. Strahd gets caught by Bigby’s Hand, but breaks out soon after, casts Maddening Darkness which fills the whole chapel. Nobody can see anything and we're all taking tons of damage, and Strahd vanishes without a trace.

When Strahd finally appears again, only Mordenkainen can see him (with Truesight). He appears directly behind Kaspar. Leans in and whispers "You were always a traitor," grapples him and drags him back a few feet like a meat shield. Pretty much nothing happens until Strahd's next turn bc everyone is stumbling around the dark and chugging potions casting magic missile into the darkness because even the Sunsword is struggling to make more than a few feet of visibility. Strahd again leans down to Kaspar’s ear and whispers "Why am I letting you cast all those spells?" (insight check 21, why indeed??) and he casts silence around Kaspar’s head.

Kaspar's turn now. Crying. The deafening silence feels horrible. He's freaking out bc he knows Strahd could just rip him in half, and he can't cast anything. So he does the only thing he can do well, apparently. Twists around and bites into Strahd's neck, hard.

(Fear Not This Night playing as the following is happening)

The darkness and mad cackles filling the room begin to quiet and dissipate. Finally, everyone can see Strahd, Kaspar's fangs in his neck, as they’re both in a grapple, wisps of mist pouring in from the windows above them.

Strahd, with the hint of a grin in his voice whispers "Even without me, you won't ever be able to resist biting…", then slowly fades into mist and vanishes. Complete silence. Kaspar slides onto the floor w Strahd's blood dripping from his mouth. The fighter FINALLY snaps out of the pain. Everyone, except Strahd and the artificer, is alive even if just barely.

Ireena is actually the first person to go up to Kaspar and pick him up. She offers a formal handshake which he hesitantly accepts, and then just pulls him into a tight hug (both Kaspar and me irl trying to not start bawling).

We all hug and cry it out (also irl) and we march to Strahd's study to get the diamonds we need for Raise Dead. In Strahd's study we also find the holy symbol of Kelemvor that Strahd made Kaspar hand over earlier. Ashamed to look at it or hold it, Kaspar shoves it in a pocket, but not before reviving our sweet tortle artificer (muttering really quietly ”My Lord, Great Guide... I pray you guide this soul back to us, as it was not yet his time. I love you. I am so sorry.”).

We all go down, Kaspar hanging back, looking at the floor in shame, and find Rictavio / van Richten (???? bruh??) just about to stake Strahd. He and Ez hug it out. Everyone’s hand on the stake, we finish Strahd together.

Kaspar’s epilogue:

Kaspar doesn’t feel like he can go back. And he likes Barovia without the mist. He wants to help those who haven’t left the land and sets up in the abbey in Krezk, with Vasilka and Pidlwick II. He offers medicinal and healing services free of charge while also researching a cure and such with Ez and van Richten who also stay in Barovia. Van Richten takes a while to get used to the huge fangs on Kaspar especially when the guy can’t hold back and be a fanboy (he read all of Rudolph’s books of course). Occasionally he gets letters from the others who all left separate ways soon after Strahd's death.

He definitely does surgical experiments on himself since he has the benefit of regeneration. Convinces himself it's for research and not a horrible, elaborate form of self harm for his crippling guilt. Healing and all other cleric spells cause him discomfort and best and severe pain at worst, as does spending time at the abbey. Casts Commune often just to have some contact w Kelemvor (if it even is him responding...). Mental health in shambles but he's surviving. I wouldn’t call him redeemed, or a good person, but he’s trying to do some good because what other choice does he have?

He also travels to Ravenloft to cast Gentle Repose on Rahadin's remains, as he promised (to Strahd) he would. At some point he starts talking to the corpse and looking forward to these "meetings" just because he starts going bonkers from the isolation and fruitless cure research.

Secret Extra Saucy Actual Ending which the DMs last second decided to not tell everyone because our epilogues were so wholesome it might have soured the mood if we were all present, but I assume it to be canon because of course it is and my lord the sweet, sweet grimdarkness of it:

Barovia. About two decades later. It’s a cold, foggy night. The mist is thick. Familiar, you could say. Kaspar is at the abbey, maybe cleaning up in the surgery room, or praying, when he hears a door creak. Hears footsteps, approaching. And finally hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Did you really think you could kill your deity?"

Kaspar proceeds to have a miserable, painful remainder of his long, long unlife fit for someone who betrays Strahd after swearing loyalty. Maybe eventually a new group of adventurers finds their way into Ravenloft and finds him either an obedient, mindbroken servant, or a feral creature begging for death. But at least Ireena and the rest of the victorious party will never hear of the fate that eventually caught up with him.

extra: final battle playlist

extra extra: kaspar's corruption arc playlist

#curse of strahd #dnd #strahd von zarovich #ocs #kaspar #strahd squad #cos

[absolutelynooneaskedforthis]

MILLION DOLLAR GIRL

Cole McWard x Old Money!reader

for clarification y/n is not related to the hughes she’s just rlly close with them and is practically a sister to them and Trevor. The title is a play on “Million Dollar Man” by Lana Del Rey

liked by colemcward, _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson and 12k others

y/n.user one for the money, and two for the show 🫶🏻💋

tagged: colemcward

see comments…

_quinnhughes leave my son ALONE.

jackhughes when do i get to meet the little guy?

y/n.user Jack Rowden Hughes i swear to god.

jackhughes sorry mom

colemcward what am i marrying into

-quinnhughes who said anything abt marrying?

y/n.user this is why i said don’t say anything 🤦🏻‍♀️

colemcward i had fun seeing you cry over paintings from 200 years ago!! 💚

y/n.user this is not funny (i love you) 💙

user1 i will cry

_quinnhughes me too tbh

trevorzegras y/n can pull?!?

y/n.user do you not remember senior year?

trevorzegras NVM ABANDON SHIP ABORT MISSION 🚨🚨

y/n.user that’s what i thought Zegras

colemcward what happened senior year 🤨

trevorzegras nothing coley

_quinnhughes he had a HUGE crush on y/n and wanted to asked her to prom

trevorzegras i then realized that she was basically my sister and i told her abt it like two months later before she moved to Ohio and i lost feelings LMAO

y/n.user HE ALMOST ASKED ME TOO I REMEMBER WE WERE IN SCIENCE AND HE WENT TO ASK ME SOMETHING AND STUMBLED ON HIS WORDS LMAOO

trevorzegras Sweet mother of Christ

colemcward I’M CRYING JESUS

y/n.user hes literally crying rn i’m not kidding

trevorzegras i’m glad one of us thinks this is funny

jackhughes HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABT THIS?!?

lhughes_06 you were too busy with your gf at the time 🙄

_quinnhughes yeah jack we tried to tell you but you didn’t think it was funny

jackhughes i cannot recall this

lhughes_06 it was the night y/n did her taylor swift album slideshow

jackhughes OH YES I DO REMEMBER LMAOO

y/n.user you got pissed at me that i put 1989 and speak now at 1 and 2

jackhughes BECAUSE FEARLESS IS SEVERELY UNDERRATED

y/n.user I PUT IT AT 3??

jackhughes IT DESERVES A FIRST PLACE GOLD PRIZE

colemcward do you still have the slideshow @/y/n.user ??

y/n.user yes, Cole

colemcward i know what we’re doing tonight…🤗

y/n.user sweet baby christ

liked by _quinnhughes, y/n.user, trevorzegras and 4k others

colemcward she’s kinda like a prettier jesus 💙💚

tagged: y/n.user

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y/n.user i love you so much oh my god

colemcward i love you too, pretty girl

_quinnhughes i will vomit (this is so cute)

trevorzegras you’re ruining the moment, huggy

colemcward yeah dad. stop.

y/n.user DAD IS SO FUNNY UR KIDDING

_quinnhughes is this what having kids feels like?

jackhughes you would know, father of the year 🏆

trevorzegras be nice to my sister

y/n.user we’re not related, Z

colemcward i don’t intend to hurt her ever. i’m being so dead serious rn

trevorzegras he passed.

y/n.user TREVOR ELIZABETH ZEGRAS

trevorzegras JOKES ON YOU I DON’T HAVE A MIDDLE NAME HAHA

colemcward you have one now. And it’s Elizabeth

trevorzegras ik 😔

jackhughes BRING HIM TO NJ SO WE CAN GO TO NYC TOGETHER PLEASE

y/n.user STOP BEGGING MY BOYFRIEND TO GO SEE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA WITH YOU

colemcward I WILL GO IF SHE LETS ME JACK I PROMISE 🫡

y/n.user fine.

colemcward YESSS

jackhughes WE WONN

y/n.user not quite…

jackhughes you’re coming too?!

y/n.user 🤗

jamie.drysdale DUDE THE VAN GOGH EXIBIT IS SO FREAKING COOL

colemcward IK WE WERE TRIPPING OUT IT WAS SO FUN

y/n.user we both cried too 😊

colemcward we said that would never leave the museum

y/n.user i had my legs crossed

colemcward DAMN IT

y/n.user FORGET ALL THE TEARS YOU’VE CRIED

colemcward ITS OVEERRRRR

trevorzegras IT’S A NEW STATE OF MIND

y/n.user ARE YOU COMING MY BABY?!

jackhughes we can NOT let the three of them in the same house together. Ever.

y/n.user the lake house should be fun…

jackhughes QUINNN

_quinnhughes what do you want me to do?

jackhughes take care of them.

_quinnhughes why? solar power is literally one of the best songs on Lorde’s discography

jackhughes you too?! i’ve been betrayed

lhughes_06 get used to it, Jackeline. In this house, we stan Lorde

jackhughes quinny doesn’t live with us?

lhughes_06 THE METAPHORICAL HOUSE ROWDY

y/n.user you tell ‘em lukey pookie

_quinnhughes i hope you all seek help before i have to share a house with you this summer

colemcward don’t worry, dad. well fix em up before june !!

_quinnhughes thanks, son

y/n.user crying rn bc of my boyfriend and his father 🥹

[rebelwrites]

The Night Before

Jax Teller x Sister Reader

Requested by: @cherieann-2001 Hi! So excited for this! May I please get a fic with Jax and reader who is his younger twin sister and the night before she marries Chibs. They are reminiscing about their childhood and how she is proud of Jax being VP. Just major Fluff please. PS Abel is in her wedding no Tara please

Summary: Jax and Y/N reminisce about their childhood the night before she gets married.

Jax Teller Masterlist

Looking around the clubhouse, nothing could wipe the smile off your face. Tomorrow was the day that you and Chibs would be married. Neither of you wanted to follow tradition so you were all chilling in the clubhouse with enough pizza to feed a small army. Leaning back against the bar you took in the atmosphere of the room, there was so much love you didn’t know if your heart was going to burst.

“And why are you sitting here all alone?” Jax chuckled, draping his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against your temple.

“Just taking it all in.” You nodded, turning your gaze to your brother. “Last night of being a Teller, you know.”

“You will always be a Teller in my eyes.” He smiled, clinking his beer bottle against yours. “Just like you will always be my annoying twin sister.”

“Hey , I’m not that bad.” You laughed, playfully punching him in the ribs.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t that bad but still annoying at times.”

Shaking your head at him, you wiggled out of his grip before sliding off the bar stool as everyone started gathering outside. You knew what was coming, the moment you saw the projector was set up. This was Jax’s doing; he wanted to do anything to embarrass you.

Feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, the smile on your face grew even more as Chibs pulled you down onto his lap, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck

“Okay everyone, settle down.” Jax shouted across the yard, a playful smirk graced his lips as he turned the projector on. “I know we aren’t doing speeches tomorrow but I couldn’t miss my opportunity to embarrass Y/N, so sit back, relax and enjoy the show.”

Narrowing your eyes at your brother, you quickly flipped him off causing him to throw you a wink.

You had no idea what stories or photos he was going to bring up but one thing you knew for sure was he was a dead man walking after this.

“I could be here all night telling you stories about my little sister.”

“Less of the little, you asshole.” You pouted, leaning back into Chibs.

“You are five minutes younger than me therefore that makes you the little sister.” he smirked, placing a cigarette between his lips. “Now if you can please shut up and let me continue. That would be perfect, you annoying shit.”

Shaking your head at him you gestured to him to continue.

“So everyone knows that behind every little sister, there is a big brother standing behind her swinging a baseball bat asking if you wanna say that again. That was and still is the case between me and Y/N.” Jax grinned, clicking the button on the remote he was holding causing the slideshow of photos to start playing behind him. “I never understood why having a sister was the best thing that could happen to me, at first she was extremely annoying, always gaining the attention from everyone. She was the first daughter of the club so for the first ten years of our life I was jealous of her always trying to get her into trouble but it never worked. She was the princess of the club and could never do any wrong.”

You knew what was coming, he would never let you live down the day you got arrested for the first time when you were sixteen. He was the reason you ended up in a cell, he was the one to teach you how to hotwire a car.

“The best day of my life was when I taught Y/N how to hotwire cars, she had her eye one the mustang at the local car lot but at the age of 16 neither of us had the money nor a driving license to get the car.” He smirked, running his hands through his hair. “I will never forget the look on Mom’s face when she got the call from Unser telling her that her little princess had been arrested.”

The photo changed behind him, so now you were greeted with your first mugshot. A small smirk appeared on your face knowing that from the day you got arrested was the day you and Jax got closer and nothing could break the bond you two shared.

“From that day, we were inseparable, always causing trouble in the club and around town.” Jax said, throwing you a wink.

For the next hour he kept spilling stories about you that not many people knew, but you didn’t care. It was nice to take a trip down memory lane.

The party had now died down and you and Jax were sitting on the rooftop sharing a bottle of whiskey, watching the stars in the sky.

“You know how proud I am of you.” You whispered, nudging Jax with your shoulder. “I know Clay isn’t making your life easy but you are doing an amazing job trying to get the club on the straight and narrow. Dad would be so proud.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry, I’m Jax Teller, I don’t cry.” He sniffed, narrowing his eyes at you before snatching the bottle out of your grasp.

“I only speak the truth though.” You smiled. “And there is a reason I asked you to give me away to Chibs tomorrow.”

“I’m just honored you asked me.” Jax whispered, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Now come on I think it’s time we call it a night, you have a big day tomorrow and I know damn well Abel will be waking us all up at the crack of dawn.”

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @innerpaperexpertcloud @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeowxx @nichia88-blog @zozebo @cherieann-2001 @stillbreathin

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine

[azrael-5]

The popularity and ease of access of TikTok makes it a great way to see the casualties of war up close and personal. I read through a slideshow a young girl (aged 15) posted showing the final set of messages she had exchanged with her little sister before communication went dark and her entire family went missing. I looked through her page and that she had to identify images of her sister's body, find out another sister was sick and in hospital, and agonize over not knowing the location of her family. 6 hours ago as of me writing this post, she posted that she had gotten confirmation that her entire family is dead.

Stories like these are just glimpses into the gruesome reality that the 2 million people in the Gaza Strip, half of which are children, have to endure through this genocide. I am not Palestinian and I have never been to Gaza but my very core aches for these people. I wish there was something I could do besides be a witness. I pray the dead can finally know peace.

This is her account.

#israel #palestine #free gaza #free palestine #gaza strip #gaza under attack #the zionist campaign to dehumanize these people is strong but hopefully the words of the people are stronger #people using this as an excuse to be antisemetic i mean this with my soul please swim to the deep parts of lake superior and drown

[onewordshy]

Free Online Halloween Goodies

I made one of these lists every year and posted it on reddit but they deleted all my posts as spam a while back so I'm backing them up here!

Read - Abby Howard's short horror comics: An icon in the online horror scene (to me at least), Abby is known for crafting spooky stories with great art and her comics are a must read! The demo to Scarlett Hollow, her blockbuster visual novel, is also worth a play.

Play - QT: the so-called "anti-jump scare game" wherein you search through a spooky abandoned house trying to find your friends. It's super cute and perfect if you don't want something scary.

Listen - A Bnny Nghtmr II by BNNY RBBT: A Halloween themed visual album tied into a YouTube alternate reality game about a mysterious '90s pop star who vanished. The album uses unusual sounds and the autotune heavy style might seem grating at first but it's kind of mesmerizing and a good listen for the season.

Read - Ruby Quest and Nan Quest: Two legendary horror "quest interactives." The writing style is a little unusual and the artwork is kinda crunchy but trust me, they're gripping stories of people trying to survive terrifying ordeals, combined with escape room puzzles and psychological horror. I personally prefer Nan Quest (its "haunted hotel" setting really works and it's much more polished).

Watch - Lo by Travis Betz on YouTube: which is not only my favorite horror movie but quite possibly my favorite movie in general? It's about a man who summons a demon to find his missing girlfriend, it's very low-budget but it's incredibly creative and a great meditation on love and loss.

Read - Emily Carroll's comics: You might have seen these floating around before but they're good, His Face All Red is the perfect Halloween ghost story.

Play - The Night Is Darkening: a short, free horror game about a ship that gets stranded on a floating island. It's just a simple exploration game but gothic energy is strong with this one, despite the short length it had tremendous world building that made me so intrigued. More unsettling than scary.

Browse - MORTASHEEN: an online database of fictional monsters from the creator's fantasy setting. If you're into creature design and unconventional monsters and somehow haven't heard of this, get on it now.

Read - ALL HAIL THE MONUMENTAL HORROR-IMAGE: An article posted to The Outline that I think fans of horror would be very interested in, it’s in slideshow format so you essentially just scroll through screen caps of iconic moments from horror movies interspersed with text from the author opining on what exactly it is that makes them so effective.

Watch/Listen - Evil Dead: The Musical: A campy parody of the already campy horror franchise, the original Canadian cast of this show was professionally recorded for posterity and has made its way onto YouTube. The video is pretty potato quality but you know what, we’re lucky to have this at all.

Play - The Open House: A very unique horror game that takes the form of, of all things, a virtual guided house tour through a fairly mundane piece of real estate that slowly reveals itself as a house of horrors. While there are a few obligatory jump scares, the game relies mostly on the unsettling atmosphere and brilliant pacing to lure you in and keep you hooked until the terrifying end. A short game (twenty minutes if you’re quick) can be played in browser or downloaded, but here’s a play through as well.

Watch/Listen - Ghost Quartet: A one of a kind musical/theatrical experience. the show weaves a complex interlocking narrative that I can’t even begin to unpack but is ultimately about four friends who get together on a dark night to tell ghost stories. It’s an old school style of spooky, telling out tales of love, betrayal, revenge, and of course ghosts, all spelled out through abstract metaphor and fantastic music.

Read - Jared Pechacek’s Annual Harvest Festivals: A thread of microfiction tweets each describing mysterious local harvest festival traditions from a town called Springfield in every state in America. The brief descriptions are evocative and offer a fun twist on some classic Americana, sounding both familiar and surreal.

Listen - Old Radio Plays: There’s a certain kind of vintage charm to these old radio programs that’s very comforting, and while I don’t pretend to be an expert in these types of things I’ve linked to a handy tumblr post where another excited recommender has compiled some that they felt were noteworthy.

Watch - Daisy Brown: Daisy Brown is a web series that exploded onto the scene back in 2017 with the video “How I Feed Alan,” which shows a cheerful young woman feeding sugar pills to some kind of monster. The strange juxtaposition of the grotesque imagery with Daisy’s completely casual tone was instantly intriguing, and over the course of the next two years she’d upload regular vlogs that gradually unraveled the mystery behind this strange family.

Play/Read - The Shadows That Run Alongside Our Car: A fully illustrated visual novel that tells the story of two strangers driving a car through the zombie apocalypse towards an uncertain fate. It’s very well written, has great atmosphere, and the theme of searching for hope and human connection in the face of inevitable demise is more timely than ever.

Listen - LVCRFT: Basically they’re a collective of (pretty high profile) artists in LA who got together and decided to create Halloween music, and it slaps! They have several excellent albums full of spooky tunes that you should be bumping to while they’re still seasonal!

Read - Crow Cillers: The basic gist of the plot is that a group of kids get tangled up in the machinations of a cult who are trying to control an otherworldly dimension(?) called Ynce Iche, but that's just the starting point for where this comic goes because it's the kind of story that tears itself apart and sews itself back up. A diverse cast of characters and well written dialogue bring a lot of life to this experimental webcomic.

Watch - Local58TV: The brainchild of Kris Staub, a perennial fave of the online horror scene. The videos are short films designed to look like news broadcasts from a world similar to our own, but also different in a few key ways. Found footage VHS horror has been a growing field in the past two years and imo this is the best it's been done yet.

Play - Symposium of Grief: The story of a ghost trying to find his lost heart, this one is a bit more emotional than the others listed here. It takes place in a spooky town full of ghosts and monsters but it's more about trying to find connection and a purpose in life than anything else; the writing is funny and the art is gorgeous and I have no clue why it's free because it seems super high effort.

Play/Read - the uncle who works for nintendo: Is this a cult classic? A text based adventure game about being a kid and going over to your friend's house for a sleepover that goes very, very wrong. I don't want to say too much and spoil it but suffice to say this is more hair raising than you'd expect. Can be played in browser so you don't have to download anything!

Listen - Ellise: Ellise makes short, catchy pop songs that have horror themes, with her last EP being centered around fairy tales in particular. It's a bit "edge lord" at times but hey, that's part of the fun!

Read - Fuan No Tane: A cult favorite manga, Fuan No Tane is a collection of unsettling ghost stories inspired by the unusual urban legends of Japan. It's slice of life in a way, there's no plot and every entry is pretty short (some just a few pages long), but the imagery and mundane-cum-horrifying tone really stick with you.

Watch - Ultraman Max Episode 22: "Butterfly Dream": Kind of a wildcard pick but if you're into the more surreal side of horror then this one is for you. While the typical episode of Ultraman would see the hero fighting some sort of rubber suit monster, "Butterfly Dream" instead is a bizarre, experimental story about a man attempting to write an episode of Ultraman, a woman trying to craft the perfect monster, and the hero caught in the middle.

Play - Don't Get Spooked!: A twine horror game from Halloween aficionado bogleech.com, this is a silly little comedy game where you click links to navigate a haunted house and try to collect all of the endings. Very dumb but a lot of fun.

Watch - The Black Tower: A classic short horror film about a man who notices a new building on the horizon… and then can’t stop noticing it. The story is told entirely through voiceover and mainly static footage, which gives the film a dreamy and unsettling atmosphere, and the “monster” feels very unique even today. I think if you like the more artsy and understated side of the horror world you’ll appreciate this.

Play - There’s A Bear Outside: Spend the night in a cabin and encounter a totally normal bear. An unusual spin on the “campfire story” formula, this interactive text game loosely tracks the stories of different people who encounter a surreal thing (really, a completely normal bear) which causes their lives to spill open. Kinda spooky, kinda silly, kinda a surprisingly emotionally cutting exploration of the human experience.

Read - Third Shift Society: A supernatural action comic about a down-on-her-luck girl who discovers psychic powers that conveniently land her a job as a “Paranormal Detective” and adventure ensues. Kind of a stock standard Webtoon but it was nominated for an Eisner Award and also one dude has a pumpkin for a head, so, that’s fun!

Watch - Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Series: A web series that offers comedic take on the classic Legend of Sleepy Hollow, following meek school teacher Ichabod Crane as he tries to unravel the mystery of the Headless Horseman that haunts his new hometown. Chock full of crazy characters and wacky circumstances, the show has an interesting sense of humor but manages to land a lot of good jokes while still crafting a surprisingly compelling story.

Read - Katalepsis: An ongoing urban fantasy web serial with major horror elements that follows the adventures of a young woman who discovers that the gruesome hallucinations that have plagued her since her childhood are real, a revelation which almost literally throws her into a world of strange people with stranger powers. Has a relatable protagonist, a unique story, creative world building, strong character development, and also like every character in this book is a queer woman.

Watch - Zombie Prom: Boy meets girl, boy and girl break up, boy drives into a nuclear power plant and comes back as a zombie… that old story. And it’s a musical! This short film (a bit over a half hour) is a super campy parody of ‘50s teen romances with a lot of fun songs, perhaps a little low-budget but that’s just part of its charm. Notably features RuPaul as a villainous high school principal.

Read - Angel Chain: An ongoing web comic about two dysfunctional sisters who encounter an “angel” who they can control using charms attached to their flip phones, but not all is as it appears. Sort of like a bastardized parody of anime/creature collectors/‘00s culture, this comic isn’t very far along yet but it stands out for eye catching art style and delightfully emo sensibilities. Be sure to explore the homepage for secret links too~

Play - Night Work: This interactive comic casts you as a janitor on a space ship who does his best to survive when things go horribly wrong. A simple story elevated by the beautiful black/white/red color palate and some smart gameplay choices. Plays in-browser so there’s no download required and it’s really quick, though you’ll probably want to do it a few times to get the different endings.

Play - The Anthology Of The Killer: A series of short games about a young woman named BB who goes on misadventures and meets all sorts of kooky characters... who want to kill her. Swim through a haunted waterpark, stumble through the dark backrooms of a cursed theatre, survive the art in a judgemental museum, become the herald of a new form of music, and more! The visual style is immediately striking, very punk and surreal, but what makes the games stand out is their great sense of humor and unexpected intelligence- you'll find yourself thinking and laughing at the most unexpected moments.

Explore - Welcome Home: A fansite for a (fake) children's show called Welcome Home that was mysteriously "lost..." perhaps for a good reason. The characters and the fake show seem very cute, but as you click around the site you might stumble across several links that hint at something darker lurking beneath the cheerful exterior. Tying together the internet's fascination with lost media with the rise of "mascot horror," it's no wonder that this went viral earlier this year, which is great because it means there are a lot of "explained" videos/articles out there for people (like me) who don't have the patience to actually do ARG bullshit.

Watch - The Search For The Next Elvira: A deep cut from Elvira lore is that back in 2007 she concocted a reality competition show where she put thirteen youngsters through a series of challenges to determine who could best fill her bra shoes and it is peak '00s reality television- there is no budget, it's super cheesy, nothing makes sense, and yet you just can't stop watching. At only four 40 minute episodes, it's a fun little thing to have in the background.

Play - Elevator Hitch: A unique visual novel with escape room elements about a young man starting a new job at a corporate office finds himself sharing an elevator with an annoying executive... and that's just the start of the horror! Explore nine different floors, each with their own twisted puzzles, and try to find a way to freedom... if it even exists. Witty writing, a charming anime inspired aesthetic, and plenty of surprises in store.

Explore - A Book Of Creatures: A cute little blog devoted to recording different "creatures" found in mythology and folklore from all around the world. If you're a monster lover like me this site is a treasure trove because the creator goes pretty deep with the references and pulls up some fairly obscure creatures- and provides beautiful illustrations for each.

Watch - Gregory Horror Show - An animated series of short episodes that tell the story of a human who arrives at a mysterious boarding house full of terrifying creatures that make his every waking minute a nightmare. It's a more cartoonish take on horror but the memorable cast of characters and the surprisingly compelling story have made it an enduring cult classic.

Read - Dustin K Couch's Creepypastas: This creator has gone viral several times for his unique format of short form comedic horror stories that come in the form of fake social media screenshots about surreal phenomenon that takes hold via the web. Short, amusing, slightly unsettling, and punchy. Also on tumblr if you don't want to go to xitter.

[napakmahal]

I’ll miss you until I close my eyes.

Ok so this is not an x reader fic but it is very angsty. This is my snack before I deliver my next full x reader. (Also this may or may not be my apology for being gone for so long) Also if I got the Japanese word for mother wrong please tell me.

Tadashi didn’t get an open casket funeral. Well, he could have but both the hospital and the funeral home strongly advised against it considering the state he was in. Aunt Cass also agreed, she didn’t want his friends and family to see him like that. She wanted to put a big portrait of him smiling to hang above the casket so that’s how people would remember him. She also knew that’s what he would have wanted.

At any talk of the funeral, Hiro shut down. He didn’t want to hear it. Like he didn’t want to fully commit to making a slideshow full of memories he had with his brother complete with his birthdate and his death date . And just like how he tried to avoid giving a speech but he did it because “please, out of all the people that he’d want to hear from it would be you. Let him hear you one last time.”

Hiro didn’t believe that Tadashi could hear him. He was dead and the bones and cartilage in his ears probably shattered before he died due to the fire. But the idea sounded nice so he wrote one.

When the time came for Hiro to give his speech in front of family members and family friends he hadn’t seen in years he suddenly didn’t want to. The podium was scarily close to the light gray casket covered with flower arrangements made from Tadashi’s birth-flower. The moment he saw how close it was, he physically backed up. Hiro slipped through the crowd of people with a wrinkled piece of binder paper with writing and tear stains on it. He tried to hand it to his aunt who was talking to a friend of the boys’ mom expressing how upset she was to hear her friend's son had passed so young.

“Hiro, what?” Aunt Cass had leaned down to his height.

Hiro looked down at his shoes and shook his head left and right. “Can you deliver it for me?”

“What? No, Hiro please let-”

Still shaking his head, Hiro responded “No, I don’t wanna go up there. I don’t wanna see him.”

Aunt Cass felt her heart crack inside her chest. The casket wasn’t even open so he technically couldn’t see him. But being near not just his older brother, but his older brother's casket was too much.

Before she could respond, Hiro took off towards the bathroom and sat down on the dirty floor. His black tie swinging back and forth. The crinkled speech still clutched in his palm. Hiro had rewritten the speech over six times. Tadashi did always say it was important to be good at writing essays, not just science and math.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there but it was long enough for someone to start banging on the door shouting “hurry please!”

More and more people started coming. He recognized most of them but couldn’t remember all their faces. At least every other person would stop him and say “you look just like your dad.” Aunt Cass had said that too but Hiro didn’t agree but maybe that’s because he’d never seen a picture of his dad as a teenager. Tadashi looked like his mommy, and acted like her too. Up until his untimely death, Tadashi wore a gold anklet with the word Hahaoya on it. Momma's boy from his birth to his death.

Hiro also saw Tadashi’s friends pull up to the funeral but he ducked through the crowd and pretended not to see them. They saw him though but nobody chased after him. Hiro had still been clinging to his decision that he didn’t want to stand anywhere near Tadashi’s casket until he saw an older woman he remembered. She always sent gifts and provided 90 percent of all the old photos of his parents. Tadashi called her auntie, but Hiro didn’t know if she was actually his aunt or if she was just a family friend. He never asked.

She was hunched in her seat with her hands hugging her body. Hiro walked up to her and greeted her with a hoarse voice.

“Auntie?” He gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

The old woman looked back. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and there were tear stains everywhere on her face and shirt. “Aye! Hiro, aya, how are you?”

Hiro didn’t respond and just shrugged instead. He didn’t feel like crying in front of her or anyone for that matter.

“I know, I know. But it’s good you’re here, you know? He needs you.”

Hiro had heard that multiple times that day and it was taking all the respect he had to not roll his eyes. But that’s when she said:

“Be with you one more time before he sees your mommy and daddy.”

Hiro doesn’t know why that simple sympathy filled sentence had propelled him to want to suddenly share his speech. Maybe it was because it hit that he’d be the only one left out of his immediate family or maybe because he truly didn't want to have to live with the fact he didn’t speak at his own brother's funeral. Either way, he was filled with a new found motivation.

Aunt Cass had delivered a beautiful speech on how honored she felt to have had something to do with the way Tadashi was brought up and how beautifully he blossomed. That though it may have not been in the cards she’ll think of and love him for the rest of her days.

Wasabi gave a speech on behalf of the friend group about how Tadashi will have an everlasting impact on their lives and what an unforgettable friend and wonderful experience he was. Honey was originally supposed to deliver it but she couldn't stop crying for long enough to form sentences. Fred’s eyes were glued to the floor while GoGo had tried not to cry in front of people but ended up having to excuse herself to use the bathroom as a long awaited sob started growing in her throat.

Then it was Hiro’s turn. It was like there was ominous horror movie music emitting from the closed casket. For a while the world moved in slow motion. Hiro could hear his footsteps as if they were being amplified with a speaker as he walked down the aisle and closer to the podium. The world sounded like it was underwater, his ears felt a caked muffling sound. The only thing that stopped it was looking up. Before Hiro had actually stepped onto the podium he looked up and saw his brother. Smiling with his brown eyes glistening in the camera and his cheeks red with laughter. That was how he was supposed to remember him but he couldn’t. He remembered Tadashi’s face of panic and confliction as begged him to stay. But seeing his brother's beautiful face smiling was a nice comfort. That was the first time he started to understand “the ones that love us never really leave us.”

Hiro got up on the podium and froze for a moment. A beat where he needed to remind himself to breathe. “Uhm- Hi. I’m Hiro, I’m Tadashi’s brother. Our parents died when I was three and I didn’t understand. One ng-night they tucked me in, and the oth-other they didn’t . That was all I knew. But T-tadashi—my brother—said uhm, that if I ever wanted to be with them all I would have to do is shut my eyes. And suddenly they would be there for me. I-I don’t know if that’s tru-rue but I tried. When it didn’t work I thought maybe they just didn’t want to be there for me. But it didn’t matter because he was there for me. Tadashi taught me to tie my laces l-like a big boy—ha— and taught me how to ride a big boy bike with no training wheels. On my first day of high school he left his friends so we could sit together. And he bailed me out of trouble constantly. I see him every-everywhere. I see him in his side of our room, I see him in the trinkets we built together, and every time I see someone with as much of love for the San Fransokyo Ninjas as you I laugh but nothing comes out. I can’t laugh without you. I miss you, and I’ll miss you until I close my eyes.”

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #hiro hamada #disney #fanfic #writing #angst #gogo tomago #napakmahal

[luunie]

I was having nightmare where I was looking for this group of teenagers that went missing in the middle of the woods and I stumbled across this like Texas chainsaw massacre type of family living in a dilapidated trailer and I was looking for clues there and spooky stuff was happening around me while I was doing it and then I just out of nowhere was like "I'm actually an android" and the whole thing just kind of became silly

like at one point I was looking thru like disturbing images on an old PC in the living room of the trailer but I connected to it with a cord like in cyberpunk and when the slideshow stopped it was just like dead still in the room and I turned to one of the family members and I was like, "was something spooky supposed to happen here or?" and she was like "uhh why don't you check the window behind the monitor and see" and I pulled the curtain back and there was like a spooky looking lady standing there and I awkwardly waved at her and she just got pissed and stormed off

at another point I was looking through this dark area that was like the forest and a creepy basement mixed together and I had astroboy's flashlight eyes and at one point I was being chased by someone there and I just turned around and hit them with like a star trek stun blast out of my fingertips

#dreams