#i love this cast so much I miss them so much

[azullumi]

TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!

premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons

note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving

SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.

AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.

VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.

LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.

GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.

ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.

JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.

GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.

special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #honkai imagines #honkai fluff #star rail #aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #ratio x reader #luocha x reader #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr sunday #star rail x reader #hsr #hsr imagines #hsr x you #star rail x you #azul.writes

[gamergirl-niffler]

A Bitter-sweet Birthday || Kyojuro x reader

Happy Birthday to my one and only Flame Hashira - Kyojuro! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I miss the series, but mostly I miss him. Since it's his birthday, I decided to write something short.

Tags: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @arthurbristow

ENJOY:

The day was sunny and calm with no clouds in the beautiful blue sky.

You woke up early and immediately started to get ready in the quiet privacy of your own room. The day was very important since it was your beloved's birthday today, and you were beaming with excitement and happiness.

The kimono you decided to wear was simple yet pretty. It was plain white fabric with a fiery pattern at the edges, and with fitting red obi and golden obijime. You looked like the real Rengoku, just without flame-like hair.

You were working on pinning your hair up when your door slid open. 

Senjuro looked inside and smiled, seeing you in front of the little vanity table. "You are up early. I should have expected that you would be excited to celebrate. Do you need help?" He asked with his soft voice.

You nodded your head. "Yes, please. You are much better at this."

Boy laughed and soon joined you, easily pining your hair up in a simple hairstyle that suited the occasion.

"Oh! Can you put it in?” You asked, handing him a gold hairpin.

Senjuro nodded and fulfilled your request. "My brother did his best picking this for you."

"Yes, I know. Best gift ever," you chuckled and looked into the mirror, admiring Senjuro's work. "Thank you so much."

"No problem. Will you help me a little too? I need some help with cooking,” he asked, and you of course nodded before getting up and following him to the kitchen.

There, you pulled your sleeves up and helped him with preparing miso soup with sweet potatoes and some simple sweets. After all it was a day to celebrate, and what celebration would it be without real sweets!

"You think we have everything?” you asked.

Senjuro shook his head. "I couldn't buy the last thing from our list," he said, looking down.

You just gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair. "No need to worry, we can buy it on our way to him.”

"There will be no need for that. Here.” It was no one else but Shinjuro. 

At first his sudden, loud voice made you stiff, but then you realized he was handing you a box with the last thing from the list. Blinking, you looked up at him, not hiding your confusion.

"Just take those to him. I bought them this morning after seeing them on Senjuro's list. I figured out you will need these," man explained.

You smiled widely and bowed. "Thank you so much, Shinjuro-san. We indeed needed those."

"Thank you, father, he will be happy to receive these," Senjuro added with a kind smile.

Shinjuro looked at both of you as if he wanted to add something, but he decided to stay quiet instead. He just turned away and left.

The two of you returned to cooking and chatting, sharing some giggles while doing so.

------------------------------------------

When the food was ready, Senjuro packed it up, you collected other stuff you planned to take, and you both set off on the road.

It wasn't a long trip but going with a friend was an amazing feeling. 

The closer you got, the more excited you became. You couldn't wait to celebrate Kyojuro's birthday.

The burial ground seemed quiet and calm, as if it was frozen in time together with everyone else, buried deep in its grounds. 

All you could hear were birds singing softly, their songs carried by a quiet whisper of the wind that sneaked around the crowns of trees and soft splash of a river nearby. The sun's gentle warmth enveloped the serene atmosphere, casting a comforting glow on the world.

"Aniki," Senjuro said happily and ran up to one of the graves, setting everything down next to it. 

You quickly followed him and smiled looking at the grave. "Good to see you again, love."

After the quick greeting, you and Senjuro got to work, cleaning the grave. You made sure to visit Kyojuro regularly so there was a small amount of cleaning needed.

In the end, you pulled out the box that Shinjuro gave you and pulled out incense sticks. You lit them up and placed them on the grave.

You and Senjuro clasped your hands together, preparing for the prayer ahead with a sense of unity and reverence.

Senjuro finished first, and started putting down a little blanket. You joined him shortly after, and helped him with setting everything up.

"Aniki. Everything's good at home, father has stopped drinking, and things are much calmer there now. He even accepted Y/N around," Senjuro said, even if his words were greeted by nothing but silence. 

"That's true, but I still try to do my best to stay out of his way. Today he bought us incense sticks for you, love," you smiled softly.

Senjuro nodded and picked up his little bowl of soup. "Happy birthday, aniki. I wish you were still here. I miss having you around.”

You smiled sadly, doing the same as he did. "Happy birthday, my love. I miss you dearly." 

The rest of the celebration went calmly. 

You talked and joked with Kyojuro, telling him everything that happened since the last visit.

If you only knew he was there indeed, sitting next to his own grave, listening to both of you and feeling happy, hoping the warm sun rays would convey how glad he was to celebrate his birthday with his little brother and the love of his life.

#demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer kyojuro #kny rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #kny kyojuro

[muddyorbsblr]

curiosities

See my full list of works here!

Requested by: Anonymous | view request here

Summary: Loki's interrogation tactics left you curious about his powers, and he's more than happy to give you a little demonstration while you worked on your reports.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning/s: 18+ | slightly smutty (think limes not lemons…but still, minors & pearl clutchers leave right now); thigh riding; hand necklaces; naughty use of Loki's powers; semi-public [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: nothing explicit but proceed with caution starting from "Quiet, darling"

"Darling? Are you alright?"

The sound of Loki's voice broke through the hazy thoughts you'd found yourself lost in for the last few minutes, making you realize that your fingers hovered over the keyboard for so long that your computer screen went on Standby. And the text fields of your interrogation report remained blank.

"Sorry what?" you mumbled, realizing too late that the reason you lost yourself in your thoughts in the first place was from recalling the events of the interrogation from earlier. Specifically the way your lover's voice and overall aura darkened as he threatened a variant of reminding them specifically what kind of person he was on the once Sacred Timeline.

Of showing them a sampling of the terrible awful things that he could do, especially now given that the magic barrier had been switched off. You had only the slightest whispers of an idea, given what you'd read from his file and the files of multiple variants of him.

Shadow casting. Duplication casting. An entire pocket dimension filled with who knows what. And then there was the telepathy. The telekinesis. The illusion projection. The mind control.

Which powers did your Loki have, you wondered. And which ones would he utilize in the name of those terrible, awful things?

And why did the prospect of him using those powers on you stir something in you that currently had you struggling not to squirm in your seat from the arousal?

"You look as if you keep drifting off, darling. Are you feeling alright?" Loki reached out to cup the side of your face in his large hand, the contact hitting him with a barrage of the thoughts that had been swimming through your mind since the interrogation. "Oh…" he rasped, moving his hand to weave his fingers through your hair. "I see now what has stolen your ability to focus on this…simple tedious task."

"Hmmm?" you replied absently, soft whimpers escaping you once the god leaned in and started pressing kisses from your temple down to your neck. This wasn't helping your wandering thoughts in the slightest. And then he wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up from your seat and maneuvering you to straddle his thigh. "Loki," you whined, a sharp gasp escaping you when he nipped at the spot between your neck and shoulder.

"Quiet, darling," he told you in a low teasing tone. "You wish to know which powers I possess? I'm more than happy to give you a little demonstration." He brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly at the sides. "I've cast an illusion wherein our colleagues are none the wiser to our…current predicament. All they see is us, sitting side by side, your lover patiently waiting for you to finish your report."

He flexed the muscles of his thigh, the motion causing a delicious friction between your legs. You let out the start of a moan before his fingers tightened around your neck for a fraction of a second.

"Much as I would adore to hear those beautifully filthy sounds from you, my love, I'm going to have to implore you stay silent. See, if you make any noise that could draw people's attention to us, the illusion breaks. And we'll be disciplined." With a wave of his hand, your jacket disappeared and reappeared neatly folded on the table in front of you. He kissed at your now exposed arm. "Can you breathe alright?"

Butterflies fluttered violently at your stomach at the question, choosing to nod instead of voicing your answer.

"Good girl." A rush of arousal pooled between your thighs at his words. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from making a sound when he nipped at your skin. Another wave of his hand and you suddenly felt cool wispy tendrils grasping at your waist and moving you to grind on your boyfriend's thigh. "I must admit, dear Y/N, I rather enjoy finding these more…pleasurable uses of my abilities. Especially with how deliciously responsive your exquisite form is under my touch." He kissed his way up to your ear. "I look forward to using them all with you. Perhaps later tonight, in our home."

The tendrils held you tighter, pressing you down harder against his thigh before proceeding to undulate your hips. The increased friction, along with how he was kissing and nipping away at your earlobe, had you letting out a strangled moan before his hold tightened on you again, your head swimming from the pressure.

"What did I say about breaking the illusion, my darling?" he growled, the gravel in his voice making you even wetter. "Do you wish to give every soul in this library a show of how desperate and wanton I can make you? Is that it?" He flexed his thigh again the same time that the wispy tendons ground your hips harder against it, a barely muted whimper coming out of you before you bit down hard on your lip and shook your head. "Then stay quiet, sweet mortal. Lest you wish for me to find something within my pocket dimension to stuff that beautiful mouth of yours with."

You did what you could to look down at what was moving you, your mouth forming in an 'O' when you saw that it was his shadows. You let out the tiniest whimper of his name, the pressure on the side of your neck lessening when he stroked at your skin with his thumb.

"I'm going to lift this illusion and then you shall finish your report so that I may bring you home and we can move on to a more…thorough demonstration," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "With a little help from a few friends of mine." A flash of Loki's green magic from the corner of your eye caught your attention, his shadows grinding you down even harder on his thigh once you caught sight of two duplicates of him waving and smirking at you. One was wearing that ruffled tuxedo that on paper looked unremarkable on the average man.

But Loki was no average man. He was a god. Your god.

And the other duplicate was dressed exactly as such. With the gold horns and the black and green leather, his usual obsidian curls straightened and slicked back with a menacing look in his eyes as his gaze roamed your body.

The feel of his thigh flexing against your slit had you bringing back your attention to the Loki that held you in place. Your Loki. The real one.

"But first, I want you to soak my thigh."

A/N: Anon, whoever you are, I hope you're having the absolute best day because getting this in my asks had me staring at the ceiling and immediately typing down a lil note in my writing schedule to make this 🫠 Hopefully I did your thot justice

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

[huntingingoodwill]

love is a losing game (j.p.)

masterlist

pairing: jealous! dark! sugardaddyish! javier pena x speakeasy singer! femme fatale! reader

desc: javi meets you, a singer at a speakeasy he’s working undercover at. he becomes consumed by your world of late nights, music, and your callous, cruel love.

a/n: yippee!!! long time in the making but so excited!!!!! reader became a lil evil and they lowkey manipulation olympics each other hehe. also spot the oscar isaac reference oop!! please consider reblogging if you enjoy MWAH!

A whirling spotlight. The low hum of your voice, rumbling through his body like an aftershock. The music, cresting like a wave - high, high, high, but bound to crash.

Javi’s jaw slackened as the moth-eaten velvet curtain stuttered upward, revealing your figure inch by inch. Every glimpse of your skin, tinted iridescent from the spotlight, couldn’t come fast enough.

As it lifted past your eyes like a veil, your fiery gaze set his world ablaze. He should have never accepted this assignment. He was done for.

“You’re done for,” Blue laughed, slapping his cards down on the table.

Javi reluctantly tore his eyes away from you. He looked down at the game before him. He’d lost.

His gaze flickered back towards you, his blown out eyes pricking with tears, stinging as if he were staring straight into the sun. You were so bright.

Blue threw a glance over his shoulder to where you stood onstage, a wolffish smile twisting through his lips.

“Like what you see?”

His smile, like everything else about him, had a sinister edge. Javi would have never hung around the guy if he wasn’t undercover, trying to wheedle information from him.

Blue was the owner of the dingy speakeasy that was a frequent hotspot for the cartel, and right now, he was reading Javi like a book.

Blue smirked. “I’ll take you backstage after the show.”

The corridor seemed to stretch on for miles, before ending in an unassuming door, cracked to reveal a warm, golden light, the husky crackling of an old jazz singer scratching its voice out on a turntable, and your voice, thick and sweet as honey, flowing over it.

Blue knocked. “You decent?”

“Hardly ever.” It nearly knocked Javi over, that voice, the sardonic lilt that revealed your smile to him.

Blue grinned back at him before pulling open the door.

“Who’s your little friend?” Your gaze seemed to sear his skin as you cast your appraising gaze upon him, a smile pulling at your lips. That smile set a pang in his heart. He liked you so much, it hurt.

Javi had to stop himself from revealing his real name in front of Blue, trying to find the breath to breathe out his alias as he shook your hand, the nerves in his fingers firing, your touch electric.

“You were great up there today.” Javi muttered, throat dry as he accepted a cigarette from Blue.

“If you liked it,” you said, striking a match and holding it up to his trembling cigarette, “you should come around and see me another time,” the flame reflected in your eyes, setting them alight. “I know I’d like to see you.”

“You’re darling, you know. Simply darling. Who taught you to be such a darling, hm?” You purred, the overly saccharine words falling flat as you grabbed the bouquet from his hands, tossing it onto your dressing table absentmindedly.

He didn’t mind. The way you brushed your lips against his cheek and the heat of your embrace as you wrapped your arms around him made up for the lack of warmth in your words.

“Now, buy me a drink, won’t you? Oh, and some gum. Bubble, not chewing.” His body instantly missed the presence of yours in its arms as you flounced over to your vanity, placing a record on your turntable. Your eyes lit up as a voice crackled to life from the speakers, in a way he wished they would when they saw him.

He grabbed the cash he needed out of his wallet and tossed it onto your vanity before leaving your dressing room, heading out into the rowdy bar. He’d been there almost every night, and every afternoon, as soon as he could cut out from the office.

It wasn’t about the assignment anymore.

You rose in the late afternoon, when the molten sun shone right onto the sunken mattress that sat in the corner of your dressing room. He loved when you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, body emanating heat next to his under the covers, a secret vulnerability still visible across your face that hardened when you were awake. He always tried to reach your dressing room before that moment, where you’d be liable to smile at him through bleary eyes, and bury your face in the crook of his arm to mumble, “This damned sun. Why can’t we just lie here forever, hm?”

He missed that time today in favour of buying you a bouquet, only for you to toss it aside to get ready for your act.

He opened your door, drink in hand, to find you rummaging through his wallet as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“D’you mind, honey?” You said, barely glancing his way as you picked out some bills from his wallet, “That asshole,” you said, jutting your chin toward Blue’s office, “is increasing my rent. I already live in his hovel, his stupid friends never tip, and he’s still draining me of cash, presumably to buy one of his pretentious suits.” You grumbled.

Javi placed the drink next to you, the glass already sweating, tossing the bubblegum next to it. “Go ahead.”

You smiled at him with adoration, a gaze that melted him completely. “You’re a lamb.” You nuzzled yourself into his side, which was enough for him to ignore as you pocketed some extra money for yourself.

You detached yourself from him too quickly, smacking on a piece of gum as you returned to getting ready. Javi slid his wallet back into his pocket, sinking to the floor to watch you as you fussed with your appearance in the mirror. He loved watching you.

Your busy actions soon slowed, and you stopped completely, eyes flickering from your reflection to the record player that spun endlessly next to you, a contemplative sadness in your eye.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Javi muttered.

He wished he could live in your mind, traverse the secret plains and valleys of it.

You held out your hand, looking at him expectantly.

He reached into his pocket and fished around for a coin, placing it in your hand and watching your eyes fill with the warmth that he craved.

You sank to the floor next to him, taking his bouquet with you as you lay on the carpet next to him.

You plucked a flower from the bunch, twisting the stem in between your hands before methodically beginning to pluck the petals, one by one.

“The music got me thinking.”

“What about?”

“About how much I wish I was her. Had her talent.” You pulled the sleeve from the drawer, eyeing the album cover, a smokey eyed siren with her hair piled atop her head. “Her voice is like air when you’re underwater. She’s the only one who’s got my back in this world.” You sighed.

“You have me.” Desperation broiled in the pit of his stomach.

You snorted, plucking another petal and crushing it between your fingers. “You say that to all your girls.”

“Don’t have any other girls.” This would have been a big, fat lie, in any other circumstance.

But since he’d met you, it had been tunnel vision. The rest of them had all fallen away.

“Don’t lie. I hate liars.” You scoffed, derision curling your lip.”

“I’m not-“

“He loves me not…” you mumbled, plucking the last petals off the flower, “he loves me.”

“I do.” Javi whispered, feeling as if he had opened his chest and gladly served you his heart on a platter.

You twirled the stalk in your hand, the bud sitting naked atop of it, smirking as if he had just told you a joke.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.” You pulled your robe aside, exposing the skin that stretched over your collarbone, darkened with a love bite. “You’re a brute, you know. I have no idea what to wear tonight. Nothing I own covers it. I practically need a whole new wardrobe.” You sighed, nuzzling up to his side. “If only I had a fur. I’d feel like royalty.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You grinned as your eyes flickered toward the price tag attached to the coat. Javi thought he could see the almost imperceptible difference in your smile. Not quite gratefulness, but as if you were laughing at a joke. “You really shouldn’t have, darling.” You held the coat up to your body admiring the luxurious, thick pelt.

“Anything for you, baby.” He felt his heart squeeze.

“Anything?” Your eyes lit up, as he moved to slide the coat over your arms and shoulders, wrapping yourself in the monstrously ostentatious coat.

“Anything.” He muttered.

You moved to the floor, lying on your side as you held the coat open, inviting him to join you, wrapped tightly around each other beneath the pelt.

“Come here. I’m cold.” You grinned.

Even with nothing on beneath the fur, your skin glittered with pricks of sweat under the scorching spotlight. You were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

After the show, you slid into the booth he’d perched at to admire you and lose a couple games of poker.

“Quite a coat you’ve got.” Blue mumbled around his stinking cigarette.

“A gift from our little friend here.” Your hand skimmed the side of Javi’s arm as he feigned cool by looking at his cards, the numbers and symbols swimming before his eyes.

“Farewell present?” Blue asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Farewell?” Javi’s fingers tightened around the cards, the waxy surface creasing beneath his grip.

“I must have forgotten to mention it.” You said, a veneer of nonchalance settling over your lie. “I’m thinking of going on tour. Ed, our pianist, talked me into it. I mean, all the real artists I love have done it.”

Javi felt his heart plummet, far, far, down.

“Maybe Europe, or Asia. Ed’s a real intellectual. He studied at a conservatory, knows all about music, travel, culture-“

“Music, travel and culture.” Javi muttered, voice dangerously low as he stared at his cards, enough to burn holes through them. “That’s enough to chase him around the world?” Javi felt the hurt rumbling through his body like the tremors of an earthquake.

“Chase?” He was already wounded by your tone, the smile falling off your face as you spoke the words. “Like that way you do to me? Don’t worry. I still have some dignity left.”

“And I don’t?”

You smiled viciously. “Let’s just say you wouldn’t recognise intellectuality if it hit you over the head.”

His anger teemed, bubbling in the pit of his stomach and boiling over, heat blooming across his chest.

“I forbid you to go with him.” Javi hissed, hand wrapping tight around your forearm.

The look you gave him almost made him wither right then and there.

“It should take you four seconds to walk from here to the door.” You said, voice almost menacingly steady. “I’ll give you two.”

He couldn’t sleep anymore.

Everytime he closed his eyes, your vision seemed to flicker behind them, your voice waking him in the middle of the night.

He’d taken up with an old fling, Carina, whose presence did little to distract himself from you, and was more effective in irritating him with her utter adoration for him.

He was mad with jealousy, envious of the respect you accorded Ed, that you had never given to him. Still, he felt tethered to you, his body dragging itself to the speakeasy, Carina in tow, a desperate attempt to make you feel an iota of the pain he felt.

He knew it was a mistake when you breezed past him, gaze smouldering. “Hello, stranger.” Your eyes flickered towards Carina, lip curling into a smile, her presence the funniest joke in the world. “Hello, beautiful.” You smirked, before slinking away, leaving Javi to watch hopelessly as your back receded into the crowd, a hollow opening in his stomach.

“Who’s that?” Carina whispered, tugging on his arm.

“No one. I’ll get you a drink.” Javi grumbled.

“Stay away, okay?” Carina mumbled, gesturing towards you. “I have a bad feeling.”

He nodded, heading toward the bar. He had just finished shouting his order over the din when he felt a pair of eyes trace over the lines of his body. He saw you, standing in the corridor, obscured from the rest of the crowd. Waiting expectantly for him to fall into your trap.

“‘No other girls’, huh?” You muttered, picking at your nails with a wounded tone that made his heart soar. You cared.

He stepped into the corridor.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, reaching for your hands, the feeling of your hot touch sending a wave of relief rushing over him. “She means nothing. Forgive me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, curling into his body. Your scent was intoxicating.

“I missed you. I want you all to myself.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry. I’ll end it with her, I promise.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, hand finding purchase in his hair as you ran your fingers through it. Too soon, you tightened a fist around his hair to pull him away, his scalp tingling with a dull ache.

“Does this mean you won’t leave?” He asked, voice soaring with hope.

“Oh, darling.” You sighed, fingers raking through his hair affectionately. “Don’t be stupid.”

He stumbled out of the darkened corridor, squinting into the light of the bar, resisting looking at your darkened silhouette.

He’d get back at you. He’d make you jealous, make you want him as much as he wanted you.

The band played in a roaring crescendo as you stepped on stage, and he made sure to pull Carina close within your line of view. You sang without a care in the world.

As your act drew to a close, he made a last ditch effort to spark envy within you, pulling in Carina for a kiss. She responded eagerly, hand reaching to cup the back of his head, until her motions stilled.

“What’s that in your hair?”

A tiny wad of flesh pink bubble gum, stuck on the back of his head.

“Who put that there?” She whispered, already knowing.

The set came to a halt, the room dissolving into applause as Carina’s face shattered. She watched as you descended the stage, smacking loudly, performatively, on sickly sweet bubblegum, blowing a glistening bubble that exploded with an almost deafening pop as you walked between them.

A smirk played on your face as you bumped into Carina’s side, forcing her to move out of the way to allow you to pass, her eyes filling with hatred.

“Sorry, honey.” You uttered, not feeling sorry at all. “Hope you two enjoyed the show.”

Carina had left him. He thought he might have cared, but he didn’t. The space she had left in his life filled with you, his burning desire, his desperation for you to stay.

He’d push, and push, and push, until he pushed his way into your arms.

Ed was identified by the DEA as a person of interest when Javi planned the raid.

Leaning against his car across the street, nursing a smouldering cigarette, Javi watched through a sheen of smoke as Blue and the club regulars were hauled out of the building.

Your voice thundered, swearing like a sailor as they dragged you out, kicking and screaming. He had always liked that about you. Your feist.

“Let her go.” He ordered, his men loosening their grip on your arms. Your eyes darted about, a caged animal looking for an exit, until they zeroed in on Javi.

“You.” You growled, understanding flashing through your eyes before a cold sheen of fury fell across them. “You bastard!” You reached to shove him out of the way, but he intercepted your arm, forcing you against the wall.

You seethed as he held you to the brick, the rough surface pricking through your clothes. “I’ll kill you.” You reared against him like a feral animal, trying to fight your way out of his grasp.

“I’d let you,” growled Javi, “But you wouldn’t. Not when you only have me left. Where’s your intellectual now, hm?”

Your eyes widened, and you swiveled to watch as Ed was dragged out of the building. He fought hard against the men, but they didn’t respond as kindly as they did to you.

Screaming, you watched as one of them slammed a fist into Ed’s jaw, the other pinning him down as a crimson spray of blood flew through the air.

You fought hard to get to him, but your motions slowed, eyes glazing over as you mimicked Ed’s disillusionment, his exhausted form lying on the pavement.

You looked into Javi’s eyes, and he could detect that vulnerability that he had craved, the strength you had ebbing away to reveal that raw, soft centre he had always wanted to find.

A waft of hot air blew between the both of you, and you looked across the street to see the speakeasy alight, the tall orange flames that sprouted from its windows licking the dark night sky.

Blue’s desperate attempt to be rid of any incriminating evidence.

Slowly, as he held you against the wall, you stilled, too exhausted to fight anymore, or even to stand. You leaned into him, holding yourself up against his body.

He snaked his arm around your waist, holding you tight as the fire glazed over your eyes, a mosaic of colour blooming around you as the orange flames mixed with the red and blue lights of the fire truck.

After the chaos, the air smelling of ash and damp, Javi followed you into the building, silence hanging in the air as thick as smoke. You walked slowly into your dressing room, glancing around the rubble, your pupils as blown and black as the ashy remains of your home.

You reached your record collection, searching through the album sleeves before picking up one in particular.

The dark haired siren’s face was charred, her mysterious eyes nothing more than crumbling dust that blackened your fingers. The record had warped, her once perfect pitch now an off key warble.

You dropped the album to the ground, looking upon the only one who had your back in this world.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Javi whispered, holding out his hand.

You slowly placed your hand in his, your fingers cold where they used to be so hot, he thought his palm would meld into yours.

Shutting the car door, he pulled you into his chest, chin resting atop your head as he ran his fingers through your hair.

He felt the hot wetness of tears bloom across his chest as your back shuddered beneath his hand.

“I hate you.” You whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I know.”

“I’ll never love you.”

“I have enough love for the both of us.”

“Take me home.”

So he did.

#pedro pascal x y/n #pedrostories #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #javier pena imagine #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena one shot #javi peña #javi pena #javi p #javi p x reader

[bearw-me]

Hey there, Could you maybe Write a fic of Lute with a sinner reader who is actually really good at fighting her, but eventually gets killed by her during an extermination while the reader is protecting a friend. Only Lute starts really missing the reader afterwards, but what Lute doesn't realize is that the reader's actions caused them to get redeemed and she bumps into them in heaven. Thanks in advance!

sorry it took so long anon! you don't know how many times i rewrote this until i was satisfied! REALLY hope this lives up to the request lol

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 — 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞

𐐒 includes : lute x redeemed!reader (enemies to ?), roommate mentioned 𐐒 cw : mentions of death/killing/blood, readers a major badass, mentions of reader trying to behead lute, there's fluff i swear 𐐒 summary : she hates you. she hates you. . . and yet, exterminations just don't feel the same without you anymore. 𐐒 word count : 986 𐐒 note : love this dynamic sm!

She hated you, with every fiber of her holy being, she hated you.

Every extermination was the same.

The portal to hell opened like a volcano, spewing up steam from hell's fire and the smell of brimstone. Lute cast her spear down, signaling for the exterminators to begin their descent on the red sky.

Like many times before, hell watched in horror as the horizon spilled forth thousands of dark angels, slaughtering bloody paths through the city.

Lute stared into the abyss, the lovely screams of sinners like music to her ears. She sighed, a soft, sinister smile crawling across her lips.

Her foot stepped into the empty air of hell, free falling over Pentagram City.

Like the other times, she did her duties as the lieutenant of heaven's army. Running her path like a woman possessed. Duty and adrenaline coursing through her wings.

And just like all those times before, you laid between her path.

"I'll kill you," You warned with a huff, the sword in your hand trembling, but never falling. "Don't come any closer!"

Lute looked you up and down this time, drinking in your appearance.

Not much to look at, at first. Not much muscle on your arms, trembling legs. . . a dark glint in your eye. The same one all sinners possessed.

You were in hell for a reason, and Lute would make you pay for it.

She pointed her mighty spear at you with one arm, the holy weapon nearly crossing the distance between your two bodies. "This is what you deserve scum," she hissed.

You shook, like you were afraid in her presence, but never looked away. . . never stepped back.

She liked it.

Or at least, it was admirable. . . for a sniveling sinner.

"You're not getting away this time," Lute promised, dropping her spear to her side and standing square with you, her wings unravelling from her back, fluttering and hissing like the mighty angel she promised she was.

That's when recognition hit you "Your... You're that angel." Then a soft, uncharacteristic smile appeared on your face "Was last time not enough of a fight for you!"

Lute fist tightened into a white-knuckle grip around her spear, her other hand absentmindedly shooting up to her neck.

You could see it written all over her face: the fear of being beheaded this time by your blade.

With no warning, she burst straight-forward, spear pointed at your chest in fury.

With every hit, every punch and broken knuckle, you kept standing. Not relenting to her power in the slightest, but pushing her back. The fight like an intricate dance between enemies bent on destruction.

Lute screamed, wielding her spear high above her head and bringing it down onto you, your sword blocking the blow.

The angel used her wings to push down harder against you, the wind of her might kicking up dust and feathers in attempts to crush more than just your body.

You didn't even have the power to make a sound, holding the blade up with trembling arms.

The scream Lute heard wasn't yours.

Someone called your name, a loud sob "Please don't die!" they begged you.

You shoved Lute off your sword, the force enough to send her flying back with a snap, spear clattering against the asphalt. Before you could run to your roommate, you swung at Lute.

All she could hear was ringing, her head spinning violently as she willed herself to open her eyes.

Lute blinked blearily, realizing with horror that her mask had cracked in half, the vision on her left eye plain and exposed to the horrors of hell. With wide eyes she rose uneasily to her feet like a zombie.

"You," she mumbled, "YOU!"

You turned just in time to bring your sword up in defense, Lute once again raising her spear above her halo.

You didn't even know angels could fly with a broken wing.

As if time stopped, Lute's attacked shifted to the trembling girl behind you, your best friend who craved escape. . . you're best friend who deserved safety.

Four months after the extermination, Lute found herself prepping the raid on hell with less enthusiasm than before.

Adam's shoulder punches of excitement bordered on annoying now.

And the Seraphim's wishes seemed pointless.

More like the order's that they were than a fun task to undertake herself. The days just seemed to blend into the next. No excitement, no real challenge.

Was that what you were to her?

She sighed.

All the millennia that had passed. . . she had never felt so- so empty, so void?

Was that the right word? She thought to herself uneasily, moping in her thoughts as she walked the promenade.

All she knew was that it happened the extermination she had finally prevailed over you.

And she didn't even know what your name was. . .

That was a weird thing to think wasn't it?

The thought made her heart feel heavy. It wasn't guilt. No. . . it was.

Without looking where she was going-or you for that matter, the two of you collided, the force sending you backward.

Before you could fall, Lute caught your wrist, steadying you.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologized quickly, a blush creeping its way across the bridge of your nose.

Lute could only stare, mouth parted in awe.

"I wasn't watching where I was going! I'm sorry, I'm not used to this place. . . uh the promenade I mean." You explained messily, trying to cover up your mistakes as you fumbled over your words.

Lute's wings jumped from her back in surprise, only to recoil from the shooting pain her broken wing caused.

And recognition hit you both like a truck.

Lute's eye, unmasked that night, paired with the broken wing.

And you were the same, besides the fact that you traded your horns for a bright golden halo.

#hazbin hotel #imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #fluff #hazbin lute #lute x reader #lute x y/n #lute x gender neutral! reader #lute x gn!reader #angst #mentions of death #mentions of blood #mentions of killing #redeemed reader #fight #fic #oneshot #drabble #angst with a happy ending #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #what happened #but still

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

05/09/2024 Daily OFMD recap

TLDR; Leslie Jones; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Vico Ortiz; Jes Tom; Police Menacing Max; Articles; WBD Q1 Earnings Call; Casey Bloys Excuse Generator; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie Fucking jones will be Joining NBC's 2024 Olympics coverage!! She's gonna be Chief Super Fan Commentator! Fuck yeah Leslie!

Source: @nbcolympics Instagram

== David Jenkins ==

Some sneaky shots with Chaos Dad for Kinga's 41st birthday! Happy Birthday Kinga!

Source: Kinga Malisz's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

So apparently Samba has started his Thirst Trap Era -- none of us are complaining! A lot of the OFMD cast members decided to comment on these as well!

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

In case you missed the video on Rita's IG Stories: Peepa Sighting (I don't actually know how to spell this? I see like 3 versions online-- feel free to correct me!)

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico's been doing so much voice acting lately! They decided to drop some pics from the booth! Loving all the facial expressions!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram

= Date My Abuelita, First! =

New Episode of Date My Abuelita, First! with Vico! Listen here

Source: DMAF Instagram

= Jes Tom =

Our dear Jes Tom is an honoree of Queerty's 2024 #Pride 50! Congrats Jes! Thanks @adoptourcrew for sharing this!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter / Queerty's #Pride50

== WBD End of Q1 Meeting ==

Today's Q1 Meeting was full of massive BS as you've probably seen from various sources by now. Thank you @ragsandmuffins-ali for live tweeting during the call so we could get an idea of what's going on in their heads.

Source: @ ragsandmuffins Twitter

== Max Polite Menacing ==

SO MANY OF THE CREW stepped out today and started polite menacing Max again! Excellent job everyone! Thank you @ indarltonitrust for catching the count! I saw it was close to 10K by the time I went to bed!

Source: @indarltonitrust on Twitter And man oh man, we even got the bots in on it!

Source: @ragsandmuffins-ali on Twitter Some folks really let loose!

Source: @ ofmooshd on Twitter @ Seven_Sugars not pulling the punches either.

Source @ Seven_Sugars Twitter

= Casey Bloys Excuse Generator =

Idk which one of you indestructible little fuckers on this crew created a Casey Bloys Excuse Generator -- but well done! It's fantastic, try it out below.

== Articles ==

Thank you to Adopt Our Crew, Pink News, Never Left Podcast, and everyone else who shared all these articles today! Adopt Our Crew as well as the general OFMD fandom got several shoutouts today in them!

‘Nobody cares about Gollum’: The Internet’s reaction to new ‘Lord of the Rings’ films is anything but ‘precious’ 

‘Don’t Stream on Max’: Why viewers are protesting Max and calling for David Zaslav to be fired

#DontStreamOnMax, #FireDavidZaslav Trend as Warner Bros. Tries to Convince Us Everything’s Going Great

Warner Bros. Discovery Misses Q1 Expectations, TV Ad Sales Down 11% as Streaming Revenue Flat

Warner Bros. Discovery Reports Wider-Than-Expected Loss as Revenue Falls Short

Warner Bros. Discovery Plans Fresh Cost Cuts, Max Price Hike

== Love Notes ==

Wow! Crew, today was nuts! I wasn't even present for most of it, but I poked my head in occasionally and saw so many people Polite and Not so Polite Menacing today! It was fantastic! I want to give a huge shout out to AdoptOurCrew for leading this charge, SaveOFMD Crew for all their support and resources, @sonnetforbonnet for guiding folks, and all the other folks who helped so many people today in menacing Max! I tell you lovelies, it felt really good to see that kind of passion and banding together today. It reminded me of earlier this year when we were all united for one common cause. I realize we can't keep that momentum up all the time, but it was so very heartwarming to see everyone working together today again.

You all are badasses and you should be proud of yourselves. You seriously stepped it up today. I heard there was some drama with some not so kind "max supporters" but if you can, please just ignore those folks. They don't know where we're coming from and they are absolutely not worth your energy if you don't have the spoons <3 I'd like to share another love note I found on Instagram today that's not completely applicable to todays events, but it spoke to me because of the last part. Be proud of yourselves lovelies. No matter what you did today, polite menacing, sleeping, massive aggression, whatever it was. You did great <3 Take care <3

Source: soulscribbleerr's Instagram

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is being a boss and dancing, cause yall were BAMF today.

Gifs courtesy of @ fandomsmeantheworldtome and @ a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd #our flag means death #taika waititi #david jenkins #samba schutte #vico ortiz #date my abuelita first podcast #save ofmd #leslie jones #jes tom

[byhimawari]

“to me, you are the morning.”

(a RivaMika drabble)

Art by @onigiri-dorkk 🍙🤍

“Oi, brat. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Mikasa’s hand pauses just before she can pour the sugar into her tea, and the sight nearly makes him twitch in discomfort. She follows his gaze, seeing that he’s staring at her hand, and then looks back at him with an incredulous expression.

“What are you? The tea police?” Mikasa teases as she watches him take his seat across from her.

“If I was, I’d have you arrested by now, brat,” Levi says dully, but Mikasa doesn’t miss the hint of humor in his tone, “You’re ruining the natural flavor of the tea leaves.”

She dunks the spoonful of sugar into her tea cup and looks at him with a kittenish look in her eyes, never passing up the opportunity to spite him.

“It’s a matter of preference, Levi,” she sips, enjoying the slight grimace in his features, “Just like how you preferred to fall in love with me when you could’ve chosen someone much less – ” she gives him a little smile that further validates her point, “ – bratty.”

Levi rolls his eyes with an amused smirk, a small scoff escaping, “Touche.”

With an amused beam herself, Mikasa pours tea into his cup and slides it over to him, “Good morning, by the way.”

He chuckles in defeat, his quiet smile forming softly upon his lips as he lifts his teacup, “Good morning, Mikasa.”

They sip their tea in comfortable silence, their ritual of peace that unintentionally became reserved for one another every morning. Mikasa observes his poise, elegant as it's always been even in his most simplest states, as he sets his cup down and lets out a small breath of contentment. She also notices he’s wearing the light blue dress shirt she had bought him, the very one that he had nagged about her wasting her money on. Her heart warms at the sight, warming up even more with the tea that reaches her soul in more ways than one, a delicious reminder of what she has with him, with each other.

The sounds of birds passing by suddenly fill the air and Levi turns his head to gaze out the window beside them. Outside was a flock of birds soaring through the air, weightless and free, almost symbolic in the way they fly in unison, yet still go in their own direction. She smiles, her spirits lifted, like that of a mother’s reassurance saying she’s done well. The world knows how much she’s needed just that.

“The mornings have been quite beautiful these days, haven’t they?” Mikasa tells him softly as she stares out the window in admiration with him, seeing the life she once believed she would never live long enough to witness – a life of color, clear as day.

She watches the warm hued leaves float gracefully down from the luscious autumn trees, complemented with the soft rays of golden sunlight streaming through the window pane that cast a gentle glow across the room, and when she sees the birds fly off into the clouds of the morning skies, she thinks to herself: Ah. So this is a peaceful life.

“Mikasa,” his voice draws her back in like an embrace.

“Hm?” her eyes embrace him back.

And it’s when that very bodiless embrace pulls away that Mikasa stands corrected on what a peaceful life looks like.

“Marry me.”

The wind chimes play a melody and it’s her heart that sings to its beat.

“W-what?”

Levi reaches for her hand across the table – his touch gentle and kind as she’s always known it to be – while his other reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, wooden box, resurfacing a feeling of belonging she thought was long gone and far beyond her reach.

Yet, here is this man, strong and true and real, handing it right over to her.

“Marry me, Mikasa,” Levi says again, this time with more conviction, more heart, “Grant me the privilege of loving you, as I always have, all these years. Because I know no greater honor than to be yours…officially.”

Levi gently wipes a tear from her cheek that she didn’t even realize had escaped, framing her cheek with his palm as he concludes his promise, “And let’s keep staying here. Just you and me, in this cabin, sipping tea every morning with as much damn sugar as you want.”

How can she ever say no?

“Yes,” Mikasa says in a breath, her heart welled up in utter euphoria as her smile touches her ears, “Yes, Levi. I will marry you.”

Levi smiles back in response, another reserved smile made just for her. He frames her face with his palms, leaning across the table to kiss her tenderly, gratefully. Her tears reach in between their lips, and for the first time in a long time, they no longer taste bitter.

Mikasa sniffles and lets out a soft, exasperated laugh, wiping her tears away with her free hand while Levi slides the ring on her finger. “Isn’t a man supposed to ask for a woman’s hand in marriage, not demand it? You’re not my captain anymore, you know.”

He only smirks, bringing her hand to his lips and planting a trail of light kisses across her knuckles, “Because you don’t have a choice.”

She gives him a playful smile. “Funny to always assume you’ll get your way.”

“Well…” Levi eyes the ring on her finger before looking back at her, his eyes both pooled with humor and love as he stands and walks to her side, pulling her up into an embrace, “Didn’t I?”

Her usual urge to correct him ceases to exist. With a fulfilled heart, Mikasa wraps her arms around him as well, her gaze peering out the window behind him, watching as the morning sun blankets the world in the same way he blankets hers.

“Yes. Yes you did.”

—

THANK YOU AGAIN @onigiri-dorkk FOR DRAWING SUCH A BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE AGAIN! You’re seriously the greatest to ever do it! I love you so much and I’m so honored I got to collab with you 🍙🤍 Please keep doing what you do, because you’re AMAZING AT IT PERIODT.

#rivamika #levi x mikasa #levimika #rivamika fanart #rivamika fandom #mikasa x levi #rivamika art #rivamika fanfic #rivaille x mikasa #rivamika headcanon #rivamika fanfiction #rivamika fic

[little-luna-llama]

When are we ever ready?

Custard (at least in my mind) is such a pitch perfect mix of pure vanilla and shadow milk, and a parallel to both of them.

It's analysis timeeee

Contains: my analysis of canon custard iii, a quick parallel between him and Dark Choco cookie, A quick analysis of what I think made shadow milk turn into a beast and why and finally the actual parallel between custard, Shadow and Vanilla. (Being ready to handle something)

Custard is a kind vanillian cookie kid with a persona that's basically his entire personality(being king). He speaks in a way that could be read as bratty, but comes off as performative and a little silly goofy.

He's trying to step into shoes that are wayyy to big for him right now that comes with decisions he's not ready to make or knowledge he's not ready to know. His fortune cookie says "Watch, listen, play! Your memories will shine brighter than a royal crown."

It's literally saying stop trying to grow up and enjoy the now. Because let's be real: growing up sucks when it actually happens. Custard is yet to realise that because he's a kid still looking at adulthood through rose coloured glasses like any kid would.

In a sense this also makes him a parallel to dark choco cookie, who from what we've seen had a very hopeful and positive outlook when he was younger, trying to do what is best for the kingdom but seeming to lack understanding in some of the details, which deepens the rift with his father and fuels his need to prove himself. Which as we know didn't end well...

Custard I don't think is in it to prove himself as a leader. If you've read the bluebell fics I've actually stated that I see the kingly persona as a sort of trauma response. He misses his dad and we don't know what happened to him, and most likely custard doesn't know either. Custard is very young, arguably the youngest of the cast behind snapdragon who's a literal baby, I say about 7/8 years old and loosing your parents at that age definitely doesn't help you develop healthy states of mind or coping mechanisms because there's no supervision.

Custard knows he's of noble vanillian lineage, he heard stories of pure vanilla, this beloved King who was loved by all that grandpa was close to, he was powerful and navigated life's struggles with such ease and gentleness. A kid hears that and thinks "wow he had a lot of friends because he was King! If I'm King then everyone will want to be my friend and I won't be lonely anymore! And I can make the rules!" It's a very young mindset. It also puts him above the others so if they leave him, he can get the last word in and they aren't leaving him, he's banished them. He's in charge, he doesn't want to be friends with them and they should feel sorry about it.

I don't think it's intentionally toxic or anything, it's just the mind of a kid rationalising something to protect themselves from the trauma they've experienced. It's really common for childhood trauma to manifest a coping mechanism like this; finding a source of inspiration and power to project onto, to call on for emotional support. In certain cases it with even go as far as to manifest as d.i.d, but that's not relevant to custard. This also happens in adults as well.

This links to Shadow milk however: shadow has one of the starkest transformations in theme from ancient to beast from what we've seen. Eternal hardly changed, mystic seems to have simply hidden themselves behind a veil, burning spice hardly changed, and it seems silent salt simply put on their helmet.

Shadow milk however was clearly a scholar/Wizard archetype. Fits with his virtue being knowledge, much like how eternal hardly changing fits with their sloth, burning spices silhouette getting bigger fits with the overwhelming power of destruction, mystic hiding themselves away behind their veil to appear unfeeling/apathetic and like a god to their followers (its a literal separation) and silent hiding their face entirely so not even their expressions could communicate their feelings.

So why is did shadow go from a prim and proper scholar to a jester? I think it's all to do with knowledge.

All the beasts had to experience some great trauma, that one moment that solidified their descent into darkness(I have theories for all of them.) Something that, to them, justifies their actions (or lack thereof). Shadow Milks power is that of knowledge, and knowledge doesn't discriminate between the good and evil. Shadow would most likely be hyper aware of everything, to the point of near omniscience before creating dark moon magic. He would see the world and his friends suffering and want to stop it all, and he finds a way:

Using mind magic and trickery. It starts innocent but it builds and builds and it becomes addictive, then it becomes second nature.

Innocently making someone forget the horrors they've experienced, or filling someone's mind with fake positive memories to turn them away from committing atrocities. Perhaps he does it to his friends: maybe he sees them falling and every time he fills their heads with sweet lies to buy them a few more months.

He's overloaded by taking on everyone's troubles while he was still coming to grips with his power, he has no one to turn to because of his spiderweb of lies. He's alone and he doesn't know how to cope. Just like custard

And just like custard he adopts a front: instead of feeling remorse or trying to reverse what he's done and accept that he made a mistake he just leans into it harder, forging a new identity to pick up the pieces and figure something out, unchained by the lies of his past because he is the director the playwright, the producer, he gets to make the decisions and nobody can question him.

(Obviously the first thing he would do would be to lift the lies from his friends and have them fall too.)

Vanilla also sort of does this with healer cookie, but he has amnesia at that point in the story. Healer cookie is more like the truest reflection of pure vanilla cookie, unburdened by the horrors of his life. I bet shadow milk watched healer cookie and seethed inside. For Custard though, I think it was something he had to see even if it hasn't paid off yet. He got to know pure vanilla completely outside of his idealised version without bias because he didn't know.

In the crumbs of content we do have both from in game and twitter we have seen Custards attitude change a little. He's mellowed out a little in the dark cacao episodes and by the time stories by the campfire rolls around he's much more an excited child who happens to like his prince costume and playing prince than a 7 year omd trying to actually be in a position of power with no help or guidance.

Since pure vanilla and shadow are supposed to be opposites I think custard is actually supposed to help convey what makes them the same and what makes them different. They share the acting performative parts of their character with shadow milk, but with vani we see custard genuinely trying to impress him because he wants to be like the vanilla he heard about in his bedtime stories. However custard currently runs the risk of stumbling into something that he's not ready for, which is something I think vani and shadow share. Vanilla wasn't ready to receive the light of truth and its responsibility, and shadow wasn't really ready to weild all of that knowledge alone.

This is also partly why I made the bluebell au. Shadow definitely smelt a kindred spirit but also "hey the kids connected to vani this will make good angst." And also In the fic I have custard adopting a few variations of his prince persona partly to make more people like him.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #custard cookie iii #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #dark choco cookie #crk #dark choco crk #pure vanilla crk #shadow milk crk #custard cookie iii crk #custards clown era

[tired-reader-writer]

Okay so for some unknowable reason I fell into watching a let's play series of a horror game, and now I'll definitely be jumping at shadows for the foreseeable future until the spell wears off. I'm not good with horror. I knew this, and yet I felt compelled to watch it—

But enough about me, let's kinda vomit out the AU brain mulch that has formed in my head in an incoherent manner.

This has to do with Hilmes, Ranna/Ashaya, and the Haunted Temple™ that will be featuring in the fic.

I would highly recommend you check out the link first to get some context on what the everloving fuck I'm talking about because this thing ain't coherent, baby!

Also, some stuff might contradict each other, I'm still trying to suss out what works and what doesn't, this is basically unfiltered brain soup.

Folk tale added to the Temple, it's deep in the woods, “don't go into the woods, don't go into the ruins, it'll eat you up” is a cautionary tale everyone knows about.

Wonky time mechanics. You wander into the Temple, you've only been there for a hour you swear but you come back out months later.

Folk tale as a foreshadowing device: a royal princess was said to have been snatched up by a bandit in this region— some say she was kidnapped, others say she fell in love with this bandit. Who knows, really? Is the tale even true?

The above folk legend as a foreshadowing device for Ashaya being 1) a secret princess, 2) joining the clan though I guess it's not much of a foreshadowing since they'll most likely be gone w Farangis in the same chapter the myth is mentioned [because the clan got mistaken for bandits and got killed in the first chapter, remember?], 3) falling in love with Alfarīd aka a bandit.

The tale could also be an “explanation” for a princess that actually went missing— a young woman who wandered into the temple for some reason (unclear) finds out something so terrible that she can't bear to face the world outside again.

(it's about Kaykhusraw's betrayal)

I'm still not sure whether I'll actually keep the princess part. It could be a neat bit of foreshadowing for Hilmes discovering smth, maybe he sees an imprint of her, but I feel there's no way to communicate her journey effectively in the story since nobody actually knows what happened to her

Still though, I like the idea of Parsian royal women having worldbuilding and perhaps even plot relevance. I don't think the family tree thing from the novel extras (iirc??) even provided female members of the royal line. Tanaka, I swear.

It'll be forever before we actually get to that point but I'm actually worried about writing Hilmes' (terrible terrible) time in the haunted temple turning into a side quest problem if you know what I mean? An arc/event so divorced from the rest of the plot and world that screeches the pacing to a grinding halt. I mean, the temple tumble is necessary to his character growth, but it really has the potential to become... tedious to read.

For the record, I'm worried about Alfarīd and Ashaya's scenes having this same problem too, since they break off from the rest of the cast to have an adventure together. But at least having them have a plot progression that ties into other plot threads is easier than doing the same with Hilmes because they're not trapped in an isolated location.

Wait, info about the bells can actually be revealed here, and not have the clan remember throughout? Or if they did remember the bells existing then the locations of where the bells had vanished to could be received from the temple.

They'll need to decode it first, though.

Okay, I'm not sure what to do with the Rukhnabad. I was originally gonna have Hilmes not pull it out and cause problems but I... kinda need the damn thing for the plot. Maybe he gets Shooketh™ from whatever he learned in the temple that it compromises his ability to be chill about the looming threat and he yoinks it out of desperation—

(or maybe Ashaya can be the one to take it, as a twist, though what would their reasoning for doing so be?)

SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM SYMBOLISM

Okay, so, death.

Sherine (Ashaya's original name before they changed it upon joining the clan) is dead. She died when she disappeared into the woods.

The clan has a death-and-rebirth thing going on. Someone joins the clan, they either choose to keep their name or not, but the self they were before they joined is gone, dead to the world, essentially. They could not belong in the living world, hence why they joined the “dead”. Folks who had complicated relationships with the parents who gave them their name, their old families, their old selves, those people typically discard their names (as Ashaya, Kashi, Kazai, etc did) while those who had a positive relationship with their families but lost them in a traumatic way would keep their names (as Farangis and Gieve would). I know I've talked about this before but I can't remember if I put it in a post or in a comment.

Y'know the changeling thing? The died-but-came-back-wrong thing? The same principle, it's not literal, mind you, it's a metaphorical, symbolic thing.

So, a secret royal child goes into or near this place and is reborn as someone else (Ashaya)

Only years later, another secret royal goes into this place, gets trapped in it, and is reborn anew (Hilmes)

Words are not wording rn but you get the idea, right?

Also, mentioned somewhere that the temple holds onto things of the past, aka if you have a belonging on your person that represents something from the past that you cling onto, bye-bye item, you're not getting that back.

Aka, the temple snatched Hilmes' mask because it's a representation of his fixation w the past and everything that's tied to it aka his trauma his identity his sense of self etc etc

Hilmes can't get out bc he built his everything around his past, ergo, his whole person is a figment of the past

Like recognizes like, hence why he's trapped until he's forced to build a new identity that doesn't revolve around his, well, everything

Ashaya probably didn't get trapped bc, well, kid's not fixated to the past they just wanted out (from their shitty family situation)

Bloodstains, screams, inexplicable items vanishing and manifesting, hallucinations/visions that were probably actual memories of the past, Hilmes is not gonna have a fun time

The temple's haunted but in like, an intangible way, so to speak? No literal spooky ghosts floating about, they're fused to the building so the building itself is a haunting, you get what I mean?

Maybe there is one tangible ghost Hilmes can actually see. Maybe two, if I end up keeping the royal lady.

Okay, maybe I won't keep the royal lady.

But something could guide him through this whole ordeal and lead him to whatever truth bombs it wants to reveal.

Could his parentage be revealed here? Unlikely, the temple's hauntedness is it basically reliving the past over and over, not much space for... hm.

Maybe Kaykhusraw's journals could appear inside— no, no, probably too far-fetched.

So many specifics I need to nail down.

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong #hilmes #ranna (oc) #ashaya (oc) #gods I need to sort out her tag #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[mikichko]

⛔ this blog is 18+ !! minors and ageless blogs please dni ⛔

have some brainrot: adoptive parents ghoap

soap and ghost who are officially out. both from the military and to their families. they don't really care about the world. respectfully, fuck those cunts

married, with a house, and a fully adopted kid. a bright, spunky, amazing little five-year-old who fits right into their little family. they love him to death. dote on him in their own special riley-mactavish way.

the problems arise once their little bairn gets enrolled in school. the first few weeks go by fine, adjustment period and all. but once he's past it, the calls start coming. and after the calls there are meetings. conversations carry on for weeks on end, with no resolution in sight.

aggressive, they call him. a distraction, says another. they use the word dangerous to describe the sweet little boy sitting just outside the door. their sweet little boy. the same one that hides behind simon's leg whenever they pass a dog that's just a tad too big on the street. who licks the back of the spatula after johnny finishes mixing color into frosting.

and it's not like they were unaware of his history. they knew his mother had been abusing substances all throughout her pregnancy. knew what the state of the home was when child protection services rescued their little boy. they were well aware of what could come from it all.

what they weren't aware of was the absolute disdain that adults, more importantly, those tasked with caring for children, would have towards him. anger and disgust directed at a child who wasn't even at fault for the circumstances that led him there. just casting him aside, labeling him as defective from the beginning without even giving him a chance.

until you pop up of course. directing a particularly nasty look at the balding man who called their boy dangerous.

"he wouldn't be reacting like that if he didn't have external factors agitating him david." you speak his name as if forming each syllable was the single most disgusting act of your entire life.

the man doesn't hesitate to snarl back at you, some lousy excuse of how the world will have plenty of external factors agitating him. he simply can't coddle a child when the world won't do the same.

you claw at the armrests, glaring at him as you push yourself forward and speak through gritted teeth, "he's a goddamn child. we are the ones tasked with prepping him for the world. how the hell do you expect him to adapt if we don't even give him the skills he needs to do that?"

baldie revs himself for another go at you but the headmistress interrupts, guiding the conversation away from your tiff. the boys don't miss how you push your glasses up your nose with your middle finger. all while holding eye contact with the bald dickhead in the tweed blazer.

the conversation carries on and unceremoniously lands on the same conclusion it always does: the behavior needs to be curbed, otherwise he won't last here much longer.

they've already reigned themselves to the fact, already looking up the other schools in their area, when you stop them, holding the door as the last staff member slips out of the room.

"mr. and mr. mactavish," soap stifles a snort, "I know for a fact that conversation was completely unhelpful. frankly, a waste of your time. but I'd like just another moment with you two if that's okay with you?"

they nod, moving to sit, but you don't follow. instead, you poke your head out the door, "hey Z! So sorry you've been waiting so long buddy. I just have to talk to your daddies for a few more minutes. that alright with you?"

that makes both of them straighten. addressing him directly, not just speaking at him, while letting him know of the situation and asking for his permission? not something they'd seen from any of the school staff before.

they hear his small "yes ma'am" through the open door and you shoot him a smile before closing it. you sit yourself down in front of them, opening up a folder, "apologies again for that lot of clowns. they seem to forget that we don't come out of the womb with the emotional regulation switch flipped on"

simon grunts but it's johnny who speaks up, "didnae know youse were running a circus here."

you snort, "definitely making fools of themselves. can't say i've any tricks to make myself look as goofy as them. but," you pause as you rifle through some papers before your eyes light up, "I do have spreadsheets and timesheets!"

you lay out two stacks in front of them, "i've been tracking Zach's behavioral changes along with what we deduce were his triggers on these sheets," you tap the left most stack of blue papers, "and his medication dosage along with the time taken here."

you fold your hands, giving them a moment to absorb the information you've dropped on them. it's meticulous and incredibly well-documented. the behavioral outburst sheets even have the times and dates for each occurrence. you've also added little notes for many of the incidents. there's a 'fuck david' that you'd tried to scribble out but were not fully successful in doing so.

ghost rubs a finger across the inky mess, "he talks to you about his fits then?"

"aye, he does sir. it takes a bit of time but we manage to work through it. usually a drink of something cold and a snuggle with something soft seems to do the trick."

"oh did ye find that out on your own? am sorry. should have sent a note," soap apologizes as he rifles through his papers.

you wave him off, "no need mister mactavish. your boy is very good at communicating. it seems that the adults here just have a hard time listening."

"now," you reach across the table handing them identical sheets, "I'm thinking that both of you want to stop these oh-so-lovely monthly chats. and this," you tap your third identical paper, "is the solution for this."

"it's a joint emotional management endeavor, carried out both at home and here at school. you and your husband would be the primary handlers at home and I'll be the handler here. it's a multi-week program with a focus on reaction handling after a triggering event and exercises he can enact when overwhelmed"

there's a bout of silence as the two of them absorb everything that you've handed them. no one else, aside from family, ever offered this kind of care and handling for their boy before. to know that there's been someone not just looking out for their baby but researching ways to help him? it stirs something in both of them.

"why're you doin' this?" ghost scratches out.

you tilt your head, "mister mactavish, i'm an educator. but above else i'm a caretaker. i'm with these children almost as much as they're with you. it's my job to help shape and mold these children into the best version of themselves they can be."

"i happen to think that little boy out there deserves a chance to show the world how good he is. don’t you think so too?”

#.txt #.mine #.ghoap #.ghost #.soap #i started writing this at 11 pm and just kept writing for an hour #HEAVILY inspired by a little baby i had as a computer science teacher #i loved that child so much #and i’m so happy to know he lives in an absolutely loving home #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost #soap #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap x reader

[n7punk]

"Our Love Is God" Fic Notes

OLIG finished off yesterday! For once I almost nailed the length, I was expecting 12 chapters but didn’t want to commit early on. HI I TRIED TO POST THIS SO MANY TIMES but apparently it was TOO MUCH TEXT in a single block and it wouldn't give me that error, I just had to GUESS because I knew that's been a problem before. Anyway. Here it is finally.

Playlist:

Obviously the West End and Off-Broadway cast recordings, but also I did still primarily use a separate curated playlist:

Good For You — Dear Evan Hansen (original Broadway cast)

The Worst Person Alive — G Flip

Ego Talking — Fletcher

Take Your Time — Chloe Moriondo

You Don’t Want Me Like That — Rachel Bochner & XANA

leave me for dead — GAYLE

pity — Charlotte Sands

Bodybag — Chloe Moriondo

spite — Charlotte Sands

butterflies — GAYLE

Tantrum — Charlotte Sands

Killbot! — Chloe Moriondo

LOVE IS A… — PVRIS

I Don’t Like The Quiet — The Haunt

Celebrity (Blood Bunny Version) — Chloe Moriondo

Doing Better — FLETCHER

Bad Girl — Daya

Not To Be Dramatic — Zoe Clark

My Perfect — Gen and the Degenerates

Often — Lauren Sanderson

Pretending — FLETCHER

Epilogue Life:

The original cast of Heathers played on stage for just over a year before most of them move on to other projects with the major cast change. Heathers (gay version) runs for about two years, going through two more cast changes, before closing. The original cast does go to see the new cast and cheer them on, but it is kind of weird to see someone else acting out a role that became like breathing to them. Overall the remake is taken very well but has just run its course by the time it ends. There will be another revival in a few years and it actually uses both the straight and gay versions of the musical between cast changes.

Catra carries Shot in the Dark for its entire two year run before it dwindles into a temporary retirement and gets revived with a new cast a few years later (same sets and such). She’s the defining lead for the show and obviously on the cast album. She’s really, really proud to have originated a magicat-led show and makes her new origination goal a sapphic role.

After Shot in the Dark, she takes a supporting role in another musical for eight months before leaving early to join Adora and Netossa on a new project. They don’t actually interact a lot in the show and aren’t love interests or anything, and they’ve long since learned to balance their careers while in different shows, but it does allow Adora to propose to her during final bow (with approval from Netossa). Adora tipped their parents off and they’re both in the audience to watch her say yes.

(Adora knew she was going to accept, hence the public proposal, and Catra’s relationship with her mom has gotten better now she’s a successful, independent adult. Also Felina would have been So Sad to miss it so Adora told them both). Oh also they moved in together as soon as their leases came up lmao.

Adora led one show in the mean time between Chicago and their show together, but it was smaller, not as demanding as Veronica, and she was really excited to hop on a project with Netossa and Catra again. She decides to make originating a gay role and collecting cast albums her career goal, in addition to getting in a few specific shows she and her mom looked up to when she was growing up. She already feels pretty fulfilled with her early career though and considers everything else the cherry on top.

Rest of the cast quick hits: Mermista plays Velma center stage in Chicago along with Adora. Fitting her braid in that wig cap is definitely a challenge lol. Sea Hawk starred in a Hello, Again short revival run which Catra and Adora were dying sitting through, but they support all their fellow cast members when they move on to new shows. Perfuma finally got up the nerve to ask Scorpia out on their very last night performing in Heathers together, getting her flowers and then revealing after the show — when everybody was already crying about it ending — they were from her. It was a very confusing confession until Perfuma was finally able to spell it out for her that she wanted to go on a date with her. Scorpia enthusiastically agreed (still crying before the whole “last show” thing), and then gushed to Catra later about how she couldn’t believe Perfuma liked her while Catra nearly tore her hair out listening to the obliviousness. Glimmer and Bow got to play a couple that were already-together side characters in a musical and that’s what finally gets them together because Bow realizes oh, I can’t risk losing this, and Glimmer is done trying to play the jealousy game because it clearly didn’t work and she doesn’t really have a flirty relationship with any of her new cast so they can finally just be honest with each other.

Chapter 1: Auditions

⦁ Things like homophobia and Christianity are usually world aspects I avoid in my fics, but they’re both present in the musical so they had to at least be mentioned in this.

⦁ Oh I should say this will have mentions of all the triggers warned for in the fic.

⦁ Adora and Catra both gave good but not necessarily the best auditions of the day separately. Catra’s was really good when she got permission to do it in her natural register and threw in a growl (she wasn’t actually audibly straining yet, but Netossa scouted her specifically for her voice and knew she was pushing it up near the top of her range), but her Candy Store was a little more uneven thanks to the lack of practice and register change. Adora did just fine in her regular song and really good in her Beautiful reprise, but there were people that did sing a little better technically. That doesn’t mean they would have been better over the course of the show itself, though, and what Catra and Adora had going for them was it looked like they were considering involving fists (the sexy or the fighting kind, take your pick) the moment they were on stage together. They eyefucked their way through both songs with such insane chemistry Netossa was like oh we can sell Fight For Me with these two EASY.

⦁ (Fight For Me is the second song in the musical where Veronica basically see JD in a fistfight and thinks it’s so fucking hot she immediately falls for him, and then they actually spend time together and it seems like they have similar views of the high school around them. And they do! But they definitely have very different solutions. Anyway, it’s a quick romance plot setup that doesn’t pretend not to be based solely on sexual attraction at first but that works and is realistic! The actors just need to have chemistry to make it read right, and damn do Catra and Adora have that).

⦁ Okay, every Veronica has been pretty, but there was some metric that made them not perfect conventional. For the first two Veronicas this was pretty much being brunette with messy hair lmao. For the West End, Veronica was played by Carrie Hope Fletcher, who I think is gorgeous and has blonde curly hair, but she faced a lot of backlash for being “too fat” to play Veronica. Adora is close to the Hollywood ideal, which is the point Netossa is trying to make: someone who could play Heather Chandler in one version of this show ends up the Veronica because she commits the sin of not meeting society’s hetereonormative expectations. Bigots will throw you out for any association with queerness. However, still meeting all those other metrics is what allows her to slip in with the Heathers as long as she helps them out and dresses femme — that’s part of her transformation, going from jeans in the opening number to skirts for the rest of the musical until the final sequence. When show starts, she’s wearing jeans and a ratty flannel with her hair in a ponytail. It’s a quick change outfit, so she runs behind the set to pull it off to reveal her main outfit beneath, brushes her skirt into place, and lets Netossa fix a scrunchy with a big bow on it on top of her existing ponytail to complete her transformation into a feminine popular girl.

⦁ “Janis Dean” is a reference to Mean Girls, and yes, that’s in-universe.

⦁ Catra got the casting call specifically because Netossa needed someone to match JD’s register — plus the growls in the right places added a lot of emotions to his songs. Including the sex ones.

⦁ Changes in Netossa’s version: - The aforementioned “Pretty Veronica” thing. When the Heathers give her the makeover she puts on the iconic skirt and has to wear skirts for the rest of the show, performing femininity in every extra way she can, to make up for her “deviance” of being bi (also, she’s bi. It’s another thing where any degree of deviation is grounds for rejection). - The line delivery (and some content) has been tweaked for the fatphobic stuff to match the changed metanarrative that comes from Scorpia, someone who isn’t actually overweight, playing Martha. The commentary then becomes that nothing is good enough and society’s fatphobia is thrown into light as completely unreasonable. The whole point of that aspect of the show is that it illustrates how awful the characters are, but genuine fatphobia and using it as a plot device to show a character is morally corrupt looks awful similar, so by having someone who is basically just tall and strong play Martha it makes it extremely obvious that the demands are unreasonable. This ties in well with Heather M’s story, where she does have that model body type and is pretty and popular but develops an eating disorder because she’s afraid of losing that. - Obviously a lot is different with JD. She “chooses” to be a lone wolf/outcast because of her personality and views on society, but there’s obvious undertones in their dialogue in the 7/11 that even if she did want to choose differently, she couldn’t because she would be rejected for being a dyke, so is she really making a choice at all then? She goes by JD specifically because it’s more gender neutral than Janis. She couldn’t ever be a Heather and she couldn’t even be a Veronica either, because Veronica could at least be comfortable putting on a matching skirt with her friends while this JD is butch, so she hangs out in her trench coat at the fringes of society. There’s also undertones to her being the only magicat in school due to her father moving around and not caring if he brought her into a hostile — conservative, racist, homophobic, etc — area. - Heather M. is only in with the popular girls for safety and there’s some dialogue around this in the bathroom scene with Veronica. It’s kind of public information (not officially stated but implied in her social media) that her actress, Perfuma, is trans. This wasn’t planned at the time of the casting call, but Netossa worked on it during workshops and the backstory became that Heather M started transitioning how she could before high school and is continuing to “in secret” now. Some people have clocked her though and she sticks so close to the other Heathers to keep herself from being the target of terrible bullying. As long as the Heathers tolerate her (Heather C is on a bit of an ego trip about having blackmail material on her and essentially owning someone in the palm of her hand), she’s given a pass and “has the best (cishood) assumed” about her. - Veronica and JD’s relationship is a little more secretive in this version, but the Heathers do know and Duke later tell her to just be careful not to “dyke it up” at school or they would out her (currently she’s just kind of clocked by some, not confirmed to the whole school). After Heather C’s death, Duke basically threatens Veronica to stay at her heel like Heather M or she’ll out them both.

Chapter 2: Workshop

⦁ You would have to be fucking blind to not realize Adora and Catra have history even in the glances of them Netossa and Spinnerella saw, and Netossa spent the first part of workshop trying to unpack whatever was going on with them. She had to put together the clues to figure out what it was. Once she decided exes was a likely story, she confronted Catra about it because she figured talking about it was the only way to handle the resentment. She was partially using reverse psychology and partially being honest about not resolving all of it being good for the show.

⦁ I made Freeze Your Brain more homoerotic. In the musical, JD does his entire song facing Veronica or walking around the stage and then offers the drink to her at the very end. He does not get in close and offer her the drink and then sip from it after her in an indirect kiss with her lipstick prints on the straw, but mine’s better.

⦁ In the actual show, Heather Chandler doesn’t put on any death makeup. The Off-Broadway would shine a blue light on her after she died to give her an other-worldly appearance and the West End didn’t seem to do anything at all, which was a mistake imho. In this one, when she “rises from the dead”, she does it a bit more dramatically and zombie-like under a blue light, and then she on-stage reaches over for her vanity and starts powdering her face, looks back at Veronica and says “What? I want to look good for eternity” and finishes as Veronica and JD write the rest of the suicide note before collapsing so the cops can find her.

Chapter 3: Previews

⦁ Once again changing the staging for my version (jokes on you, this isn’t just a Catradora fic, it’s me writing my ideal version of Heathers). Usually Heathers has some kind of bi-level stage. This one has catwalks hidden along the backs of the lockers, but they also have more sets. They have house facades they slide in front of the high school set/lockers for the croquet scene (Freeze Your Brain is the closest song) through to Heather’s murder, sliding them away again for The Me Inside of Me. They come back for Our Love Is God, although the second level with JD’s window isn’t brought back until the very end of the show. Kurt tries to climb the same trellis Adora used to get into JD’s window to escape JD as he chases him down. The full facade doesn’t come back until it’s time for Meant To Be Yours so JD can climb through Veronica’s window (that was once his). It is wheeled out as the entire stage narrows in on the center stage for the pep rally and finale.

⦁ Veronica doesn’t rebutton her shirt until after the nightmare scene in the West End version (I honestly can’t remember for off-Broadway), but for this show Adora just isn’t super comfortable hanging out shirtless in front of crowds every night, especially knowing some people are perverted about the lesbian version of Dead Girl Walking, so Netossa said buttoning her shirt and putting her clothes back on before they fall asleep was fine back when they were deciding what Catra was going to do since JD rips his shirt off undoes his buckle during this scene. Adora could have done it (she wears the bodysuit for Mona, after all), but Netossa didn’t mind making that small tweak for her. Catra cared less, but also because she’s not in the kind of underwear that straight guys like. They decided she would have a high-coverage sports bra, the kind that can pass for a binder, on (for this scene and for the entirety of the show since Janis Dean is supposed to be firmly butch). Catra does most of JD’s usual choreo here, minus the belt thing, because they do the version of the choreo where they never stand up and Catra isn’t wearing a belt at all.

Chapter 4: Candy Store

⦁ No wonder she was what way indeed, huh, Catra? Well, multiple. No wonder she was so frustrated, because Catra is infuriating when she wants to be. No wonder she was so hung up on her, because Glimmer also wants to fuck her inexplicably. No wonder she lived and breathed the word homoerotic, because Catra made sure they lived on the razer edge of it at all times. No wonder she was down bad, because again — see the last two point. This line is less of an insult and more of Catra being too magnetic for anybody’s good, honestly, but that annoys Glimmer because she doesn’t want to like her (like that, or at all) so it definitely comes out like an insult and Glimmer is good with that.

⦁ I need you to picture Catra’s “What?” after the brat comment in the same tone of voice as Elle Woods saying “What, like it’s hard?” because Catra definitely wants it hard.

Chapter 5: We Can Start and Finish Wars

⦁ I was nervous about doing this scene just from a trigger perspective, but I figured it would be okay if I kept it all contained to this one chapter, and it was something I really wanted to cover. It was my first thought when I heard You’re Welcome (since it was a new song). I also wanted to explore the support a cast really gives. You don’t have to improvise every night or anything, but there’s always something that pops up over a show and you have to adapt for when you’re doing shows night after night. This is why casts really have to have each others’ backs and are often close. Every person on that stage would have done what they could to help Adora get through the show, but Catra, Bow, and Sea Hawk were the only ones who could have helped in that specific scenario due to their roles, and Adora was good enough at covering it up that only her best friends noticed.

⦁ This chapter was a turning point for them between the lines with the show and reality blurring and Catra realizing (though trying to repress it) how important Adora is to her.

⦁ They do workshop a version of the scenes where Kurt and Ram just don’t come as close in contact to Adora and end up being even more slapstick with each other in place of the more aggressive choreography moments, and during Never Shut Up Again they don’t even come close to Veronica, instead running around the stage to tell the audience/school. They only use it once on Adora’s signal, and Bow voluntarily opts for it once based on vibes and Sea Hawk immediately adapts, but Netossa is right: it’s a good thing to have, and she’s really glad Adora agreed to collaborate on something.

⦁ This last scene wraps up the rest of the show to verify it goes well, but it’s mostly here just to showcase Good Director™️ Netossa. She really cares about her people a lot even when she’s a hard ass.

⦁ Adora doesn’t keep up too much with comments due to what she mentions about knowing there will be homophobia in them, but she’s not totally tuned out on them and a long flood of notifications still draws attention. After this time she becomes more committed to not reading them much, though.

⦁ Yes they’re going to the same dinner place featured later.

⦁ While out at dinner, Glimmer and Bow try to ask her how she’s doing and she gives them an even more abridged version of what she told Netossa and Catra because she just doesn’t want to think about it anymore, but of course Glimmer and Bow are super supportive, and Bow is really enthusiastic about them choreographing an alternate version of the scene because he just wants Adora to be okay and is proud of her for taking that step.

Chapter 6: No Time to Knock (I’m a Dead Girl Walking)

⦁ Chapter title from DGW

⦁ Dead Girl Walking honestly didn’t look that different that night, and Netossa did miss them making out after the lights went down because she was scrambling looking for a scrunchy, but she could tell Catra was going further with the choreo than she was supposed to, especially with the kiss during the kitchen scene when Netossa had given up looking for it until the show was over, and in a situation like that Adora couldn’t say no or stop her without changing the intent of the scene, hence Netossa threatening Catra about the consent issue despite how Adora didn’t seem upset. It’s just something she has to do as director. I ended up reducing it to a one-sentence mention later in the fic, but I thought about having a scene where, after a few nights of them kissing on stage, Netossa goes to Catra’s dressing room and asks her if Adora ever gave her permission for that, to which Catra says yes she’s fine with that, and Netossa corrects her and says did Adora ever give you verbal, explicit permission for that at which point Catra goes quiet and Netossa then demands she go to Adora’s dressing room and secure it before she’s allowed to leave for the night. Cure Catra awkwardly standing in Adora’s doorway asking Adora if it’s okay for them to kiss during the show as Netossa stands down the hall and waits for her. Adora was very bewildered but could tell Catra was being put up to it from the way she kept glancing to the side so she just agreed because she didn’t want them to get in trouble and Catra quickly fled. It just didn’t even up fitting in the flow of the story because it meant verbally acknowleding what they were doing earlier than they were supposed to so that’s why I changed it to Netossa privately asking Adora instead of forcing a confrontation, which is the better thing for Netossa to do anyway rather than force Adora to deal with it if she really were uncomfortable (the reason she did it in this version of the scene was because she was 100% certain it didn’t bother Adora but was doing her duty as director).

Chapter 7: Happiness Comes / When Everything Numbs

⦁ Chapter title from Freeze Your Brain.

⦁ Forever thinking about ND’s “and it was” comic.

⦁ Real shoutout to the person who informed me about the official stage recording of the later version of the West End Heathers because I definitely did not remember any of the dialogue outside of songs and it let me take notes to write scenes like the croquet scene, which is like 50% similar to the one that actually takes place in the musical. A lot of the dialogue not overtly related to Veronica’s queerness is the same, but a little bit of the action was changed around to extend the scene for the extra dialogue and include using an actual ball, because Glimmer being frighteningly accurate at hitting things with a giant mallet felt right.

Chapter 8: Fight For Me

⦁ Heather tries to get Veronica to admit she’s into girls so much so that she can have blackmail over her to keep her in line, although she doesn’t actually need her to admit it, she just knows Veronica would be more afraid of the threat whenever she makes it if Veronica is aware it’s something Heather has 100% confirmed to be true.

⦁ I didn’t include it because I didn’t want to have to cover every scene with differences in here, but in the 7/11 Heather bothers Veronica more about clearly being into girls and is mildly homophobic to JD. Then, in the scene after Dead Girl Walking and Veronica’s nightmare, as Veronica is freaking out about getting to Heather and making amends before Monday, she tells JD in clear terms “She’s going to out me and tell the school I’m bi” which is what Adora was referring to in chapter three when she mentions this version of the musical having the word bisexual in the opening act.

⦁ I know what y’all are going to think this was inspired by, but it’s actually inspired by a fucking Try Guys Korean bbq video where they went karaokeing afterwards. I’ve never been to a karaoke place like that and it got me thinking.

Chapter 9: Big Fun!

⦁ When the show started, Bow and Sea Hawk were both given like packs of the exact same underwear (one in blue variants, one in red variants, and one in black variants) so they could match throughout the show. It’d be easier to coordinate if it was all the same pair, but they wanted the variety for people who came to multiple shows. They actually have a lot of fun coordinating and then, on their own, decided to get a pair of those classical heart-print boxers that they throw in occasionally. Sometimes that’s just based on a day when they don’t want to wear something as revealing as the tighty-whities they usually wear, but usually it’s as a gag.

⦁ It was too awkward to shoe-in here, but part of reworking the choreography around You’re Welcome included the decision to have robes backstage for Bow and Sea Hawk, which they don’t often use, but if it’s a night where Adora is getting overwhelmed intermission is a lot more comfortable if Bow and Sea Hawk aren’t wandering around naked. Sea Hawk’s has feathers along the collar and cuffs.

⦁ Glimmer’s best friends all have abs and she has no idea how sharp her elbows can be.

⦁ Glimmer did realize she was flying a little too close to the sun with Adora if she responded to Catra’s flirting.

⦁ Yeah Catra brought her strap.

⦁ Catra was just a little tired during that show, so she asked Entrapta for some of the drain cleaner as a pickup since it has a lot of sugar, and she was taking a few seconds to rest before she had to go be feral on stage again.

⦁ When I first told my friend Meta I was doing a Heathers fic, Catra downing the fake drain cleaner like shots was one of the first jokes they made and I had to include it.

⦁ Adora thinks there is — a chance — that Catra wants to be dating after this exchange where she says it’s not “a problem”, but she’s definitely worried about saying anything too soon or too presumptive and scaring her off, so she’s just going to lowkey keep acting like they’re seeing each other and hope Catra will open up enough for them to have a conversation about it eventually.

⦁ The people at stage door the night they got “dinner”, and the night they actually got dinner, and the night they went home together, all definitely thought they were dating but only the ones from the first night even thought that might be news. The girl who was a big fan of Catra kept it to herself and her friends, but one half of the couple publicly tweeted the picture they got with Catra and Adora that night mentioning they got to take photos before they went off on a date, but that picture didn’t make its way back to Catra because she wasn’t tagged in it and not that many people “noticed” per se. Final bow was when everyone was like ah so there is something fruity going on there, but even then a lot of people weren’t sure, and it’s something that just got solidified over the coming months as they were seen together more, kissed in public, got a little sappy on Instagram, etc and everyone retroactively realized they were right.

Chapter 10: Beautiful

⦁ Usually the chapter titles are either lyrics that match the chapter or a song that features in a chapter, but in the case of “Beautiful”, it was a thematic match. Beautiful features Veronica picturing her future and the next phase in her life. For this chapter Catra is also exploring her future and her next steps. And also she’s gay for Adora.

⦁ The First Contact scene started as a Mass Effect joke (iykyk) and then I ended up including it. I honestly thought I was going to cut it because it’s kind of random but the point was to show how long they’ve known each other and they have their own world of games and jokes that they lost when they lost each other, so I ended up keeping it.

⦁ Cheekbone > Clavicle > Cupid’s bow (aka Achimenes longiflora) > Gums (aka Alveolar process).

⦁ Catra freezes up after Adora asks what she gets for a good show because she can’t bring herself to say “Me.”

⦁ Shot in the Dark is one of the episodes of the show I’ve rewatched the most, when they find Melog and Catra learns about the power of friendship. The musical was either going to be called that or White Out tbh (real ones know my relationship with that episode) but Catra is playing a magicat specifically in this role so going with the Melog episode felt right.

Chapter 11:

⦁ The blanket came from Lance, actually.

⦁ What’s my ideal choreography for Meant To Be Yours? So glad you definitely asked. This scene is usually presented so abstractly I don’t think someone unfamiliar with the musical/movie would even know Veronica is hiding in her closet. My ideal version (with the staging already set up in this play) is the house facade with the window being rolled in on one side of set (only one just cuz there isn’t time) and JD appearing on the other side of the window (with the light off so it’s more like he’s creepy in the dark) and doing his knock knock thing. Veronica in the middle of the stage panics and runs to the back of center stage, where it’s carefully choreographed for the ghosts (Kurt and Ram) to be rolling in an open doorframe that she runs through and Heather slams behind her. Then Kurt and Ram would lean against each side of the doorframe making fed up and “can you believe this dude?” faces at each other as JD has his whole villain speech in center stage before going to pound on the door and finally wrenching it open to reveal Veronica hanging on the other side with Heather kind of “in the corner” making a comedic fake shock face looking between JD and Veronica as JD breaks down. When he leaves and Veronica struggles to get down for a second, Heather would roll her eyes and help as Kurt and Ram wheel off the door and then quickly move the house facade off stage as it transitions to Dead Girl Walking (Reprise).

Chapter 12:

⦁ My idea for this AU was that Catra would have a “stage mom” and then their acting coach would have been Shadow Weaver to get that Trauma Backstory™️, which means Catra needed actual parents. I already had the pair from Trade Today For Tomorrow, so I wasn’t going come up with a new set of names, but it does feel kind of wrong to have changed Leona to be a “bad” mom. In general, if/when I do use them again, I’ll be using their TTFT personalities. Also, in this AU Leona isn’t awful or anything, but she really wanted to be an actress and it didn’t work out so she has been pushing her child in that direction even when it was painful, which gave them a tense relationship. Most of my other Catras would be thrilled to have parents like this, but Catra doesn’t have that context for None or Very Bad parents, so she’s just another person with an awkward relationship with her parents and doesn’t think about it too much.

⦁ Catra used to spend Christmas ever at Adora’s house and then Christmas at her own/moms’ when they were kids.

Chapter 13:

⦁ My original idea for a childhood dream musical was to stick Adora in Wicked because you know Mara is a sucker for that show, but for mezzo-soprano it’s mainly Elphaba, and the whole point was giving her a role that wasn’t lead. I settled on Chicago because something LGBT is happening in that prison and I think Mara and Hope would both like the show. Adora is going to play Mona in Chicago, a fairly minor character who gets a solo verse in Cell Block Tango when describing why she killed her lover for cheating on her. She appears (namelessly) in more songs but also gets off-stage time, and that song is absolutely ICONIC, so Adora is really excited to get to take part in it, even if it’s pushing the absolute limits of her dancing ability. She does a lot of practicing leading up to the show, so Catra is worried for a bit about her getting too busy and their relationship faltering about, but it balances out after the initial push. Adora’s moms are super psyched when they hear she’s going to be in the show and the marketing team ends up releasing the Broadway cast’s version of Cell Block Tango online at the open of the show to drum up hype for it, so Adora really hits one of her big career dreams — though still with room to grow, if she can get it with a larger role and a full album. This role shows her that headlining isn’t all there is to musical theater, though, and having smaller parts can really by worth it for the off-time.

⦁ Uh so. Mona’s outfit. The outfits for the inmates in Cell Block Tango are usually pretty close to lingerie. Adora has a bodysuit, because it works for the song and she’s more comfortable being covered in something skintight than just wearing two pieces, but it’s still quite a Lot for her parents to see it. They know what they’re in for though and everybody just neglects to address it after the show when they praise her voice. Catra loves Adora in the outfit though.

⦁ Based on my previous formatting Shot in the Dark, Chicago, and Hello, Again should actually just be written out without italics, but because the nature of the titles (length and formatting) make it confusing without italics and clunky with quotes, so I ended up just being inconsistent between them and Heathers.

Original Outline:

I outlined this one pretty heavily going into it, in the way I used to for my fics where I’d write like a one-sentence summary of every scene planned in a chapter going in. Of course, I knew I would add and change scenes as I went, but I was pretty faithful to the outline outside of additions. I was outlined out to chapter 8 but thought it would expand to about 12 chapters between the ending I hadn’t outlined (I needed to be closer to it to know what the right conclusion was) and scenes adding themselves in along the way to up the count, and I finally put that count on the fic when I was writing chapter 10 or so, but then I realized I fucking forgot about the cast album and I got the idea for the bar scene so all of Chapter 12 ended up getting added and expanding it to 12 chapters.

The only “big” thing that didn’t happen was the catnip thing, which was mostly a joke I outlined anyway, but it was just too much from several angles so I cut it before I finished it. The idea was someone pulling a prank on Catra by putting catnip on her vanity and getting her lowkey high. Non-destructively pulling something on a castmate’s dressing room is pretty common antics, but this felt… very targeted and tense even though the castmate was doing it fairly innocently and just ignorant of that angle to it, so I didn’t want to go through with it. Catra was going to corner Adora though and demand if she fucked with her dressing room, and when Adora was obviously confused by the confrontation, fall into her arms and aggressively scentmark her even as she growled explaining the vandalism, which Adora offered to clean up for her and let her use her dressing room to change so she didn’t get more exposure to it. Again, the “getting a castmate a little high” thing, even accidentally (they didn’t realize it had much of an effect) was just not a line I — or the cast — wanted to cross, though.

Upcoming:

The 4th anniversary SPOP Big Bang is going to run May 12th-18th and I’ll be posting daily for the first few days with my magical realism AU Lightbeam along with my amazing artist partner who made an illustration for every chapter! Keep an eye out for it :)

#olig #ficmeta #fic notes

[paperphobe]

I like to pretend that all the behind the scenes pictures of Thomas Gibson and the rest of the CM cast in costume are just pictures of their characters. I can’t find any realistic context behind why the majority of them would be taken but that doesn’t matter!!!

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #i love this cast so much I miss them so much #I love the idea of hotch taking goofy photos #All those pictures that thomas takes of his feet/shoes on set are also included in this

[sestrahulk]

My story is an embroidery with many beginnings and no end. But I will start with the thread of my sestra Sarah, who stepped off a train one day and met herself.

Happy 6th anniversary to the series finale of Orphan Black!

#if anyone misses the sestras go listen to the FREE audio continuation #Orphan Black The Next Chapter #Tat narrated it all and IT'S SO GOOD #Orphan Black #OB S5 #Clone Club #Rachel Duncan #Sarah Manning #Helena #Alison Hendrix #Cosima Niehaus #Tatiana Maslany #OB Cast #Marvel Cast #MCU Cast #She Hulk #Jennifer Walters #this episode was the greatest birthday gift I could have ever asked for #it's so perfect #I love them so much <3

[wulanvansunshine]

If I’m ever feeling shitty, put on the shadow and bone cast reading thirst tweets interview. I will immediately feel better

#shadow and bone #save shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone interview #shadow and bone cast #six of crows cast #freddy carter #amita suman #danielle galligan #calahan skogman #jack wolfe #kit young #Calahan reading his so deadpan gets me every time #I MISS THEM #fuck you netflix #it will cheer me up so much but then I will immediately start shouting about Netflix to you #always gonna be mad at Netflix for this #always cancelling the best shows #save lockwood and co #that one hurts #it was so good #anyway #I love that interview

[earlgodwin]

the borgias is my favorite show and i think it's the best show ever made and all. however, there's just this one aspect that is genuinely hilarious to me and i mostly criticize the show for. the writers suddenly trying to make the viewers massively despise juan by turning against him and disingenuously writing him in his final moments so the watchers won't miss him or sympathize with him by making him a walking danger as an excuse to kill him off and prop up cesare's character. they wanted the audience to root for cesare at juan's expense and make his death seem necessary lol. they truly thought they served with this one, like maybe juan's character was shamefully abandoned by the writers (as well as his family except for rodrigo) but david oakes had many people sold with the way he played him to perfection, improvising and making juan remarkable, tremendous, and humane. the show is obviously a classic masterpiece, but in my opinion about the juan part, simply rushing the writing of a tragic dying character on a show for weak reasons is pure disrespect.

#i love the way juan was written off is something that didn't sit right with the rest of the cast either. they know david was done dirty #not to mention the corny ass hashtag they tried to trend to celebrate juan's death lmaoo 2012 was really something #it's why françois and david GET ITTTT #their insights literally go against what the writers were trying to make us Believe LOL françois and david were like No ❤️ #you know when the actors get the characters more than the writers themselves because of how much they lived in them? YEAH!!! #they tried so badly to paint cesare gutting juan and throwing him off a bridge as “heroic” then BAM here comes king arnaud!! #calling cesare an envious monster SJSJJSNSEJ #françois literally admitted that he had the writing on his character's side meanwhile david's character was thrown under the bus #as if it wasn't enough for them to villainize juan by giving him all historical!cesare's negative characteristics !! #that being said. like or hate juan...his presence was truly missed in season 3 lol #juan borgia #cesare borgia #françois arnaud #the borgias #period dramas #period drama #neil jordan #david oakes #borgias #text post

[feroluce]

Lucid Dreamer (2/2)

part 1

Gepard stalls almost a week before he finally goes out to the safehouse, and it takes him a couple days to find it because Sampo didn't have the time left to be wasn't super specific about the location. But he does find it.

It's pretty bare bones, really. Gepard knows that was probably to be expected, but… It feels crushing, when he realizes there are so few personal things here. It's nothing specific to Sampo. Just some food, some medical supplies. A cot and a heater and a lot of mismatched blankets. Nothing to remember someone by.

But he does find the letters, in a metal box stashed away under the bed.

There are two for him. Three for Natasha, and two for Seele. One for Hook, one for Serval, one for Pela, one for Bronya.

Bronya's is mostly business. They knew each other from the whole Stellaron incident, but not much beyond that, and the incoming catastrophe is a more pressing matter. Seele's is actually two copies of the same letter, and Gepard realizes why when Seele is so angry she rips the first one up without reading it. He gives her the copy a couple days later, and she slinks off without a word.

Pela seems completely normal after hers is delivered, but Gepard knows better than to trust that. The next day, he finds her asleep in bed with Serval, bottles abandoned on the floor, both their eye makeup smeared and running and Pela's glasses horribly smudged and crooked on her face. Serval doesn't read hers in front of him, but she's clingy with Gepard, Pela, and Lynx for quite a while after. She throws herself into her work a lot. She insists the heater from the safehouse is busted and she needs to keep it. It's too dangerous for use by someone who's not an engineer. Might burn their house down or something. Gepard doesn't argue.

Hook's letter is short, with easy to read words. The rest of it is actually a treasure map, and she and the moles spend the next several days running through the Underground, finding hidden candy and toys. Hook asks them when Sampo is coming back, because one of the marbles she found from his map looks green, just like his eyes, and she wants to give it to him. Natasha shoos Gepard out of the clinic before he can even begin to think of an answer.

Natasha refuses to let him see what's in her letters, which ok, fine, he'll respect that. He hears from Bronya who heard from Seele who heard from Natasha herself though that one of the letters was a map and the other a catalogue, with all of Sampo's hidden "warehouses." Gepard promptly marches himself back out to the frontlines, where he can turn a blind eye. If a ton of stolen goods suddenly enters the black market, and if the orphanage and the clinic suddenly have new supplies, well, technically that's none of his business.

Gepard goes to bed, curls up under mismatched blankets and closes his eyes.

He doesn't dream.

One of Gepard's letters was also business, like Bronya's and Natasha's. He and Bronya follow everything meticulously, down to the letter, because there has to be some good to get out of all this, there has to be. Gepard can't let it all be for nothing, it would bury him.

And so the catastrophe passes. Not without casualties, and not without a lot of damage and destruction. But Belobog survives.

And after that, time just kind of…goes on. Gepard has been a part of the Silvermanes since he was old enough to enlist. The Fragmentum had gotten so much worse in the years before Welt sealed the Stellaron. He knows the statistics, it is literally his and Pela's jobs to keep track. He knows when he sees a face everyday in the camps and then it's suddenly gone. He's not unfamiliar with things like grief and loss.

He still catches himself checking the trashcans and the supply crates and soldiers' footprints sometimes, though.

But there comes a night where Gepard goes to bed, holding the mismatched blankets to his face, and he dreams. And it's strange, it's off, it sticks with him. Sampo doesn't look the same. He's thinner. His muscles have atrophied. He looks like how Gepard has seen soldiers after months in the hospital.

The most unsettling difference is there's a scar across the left side of his head, Gepard can see it over his ear, peeking out past his hairline, carving towards his cheek. Sampo is always careful about his face. Gepard once saw him dodge a Fragmentum monster and literally let it cut across his neck just to keep his face clear. He wouldn't let that happen for nothing.

Their actions in the dream itself aren't new. Sampo seems tired, run down and worn out, but he announces his presence with aplomb by lobbing a bunch of smoke bombs off the rooftops and sending his soldiers scrambling. Same shit, different day.

The new part is what he says when Gepard chases him out to the edges of the camp, tackles him into the snow. Gepard pins him to the frozen ground to detain him and Sampo doesn't even fight it, just looks up at him like he's seeing sunrise for the first time in months.

"I'll be home in one week."

#sampard #gepo #hsr gepard #hsr sampo #gepard landau #sampo koski #hsr natasha #pelageya sergeyevna #serval landau #bronya rand #hsr seele #hsr hook #honkai star rail #my fics #lucid dreamer #I was initially just going to let Sampo stay dead because I love that kind of thing #but I ended up liking this ending so I guess I'll let it stay haha #I love thinking about Sampo's relationships with the rest of the cast and their reactions to all this #he was a founding member of Mechanical Fever. he still plays shows with Pela and Serval. #Pela is constantly giving him second chances like in the museum event and letting him volunteer with the Silvermanes. #And Serval could say SO much about him but all she says is 'hah that guy' and mentions Gepard is going to catch him someday. #I need the three of them to be a weird trio of buddies fdksaljfdkl #Sampo is seen with Seele plenty and he's with Natasha so much that Hook literally thought he was horribly ill for a long time. #I love them having some kind of odd comraderie #and oh my god I am the biggest Hook & Sampo stan ever they're so so cute and sweet and precious and WAH #so I think Sampo would want to be prepared for just in case he didn't make it back. that he would have a contingency plan for everything. #and he would miss these people and this city enough to show up in their dreams one last time. #but I'd like to think he saved Gepard for last #and it is not just because he has a crush or any kind of romantic feelings for him. There's more to it than that. #(If I'm being super honest I don't even really ship them with romance involved. I have a hard time picturing them like that.)