#(also tags that occurred to me while making the next post--)

[darkwitchoferie]

Pairing: Bang Chan/f!Reader, OT8/f!Reader

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members. It’s very smutty. I’m a little concerned for myself.

Tags: Smut, a little fluff, member x member action, unprotected p in v, not discussed but reader is on birth control, free use reader, consensual somnophilia discussed but not shown, cum eating, double vaginal penetration, mentioned anal between multiple members

A/N: I was originally going to submit this to @daydreams-after-dark for her birthday month, but then it got away from me (by so much) so I’m posting it and tagging her instead. It was sparked by one of the anons who sent in a scenario about being passed around the whole group.

So, Sorsha, firstly, Happy Birthday month! Secondly, I am so sorry for the loss in your family. It's hard any time of year, but for me personally, it always hit just a little harder around the holidays. I am so sorry you're going through this.

But, for a bit of distraction and birthday gift:

Picture this – you’re Chan’s girlfriend and he adores you, wants to give you absolutely anything and everything he has the capability of providing. He also loves to help his members, we all know that. So one night, after he’s fucked you stupid, you’ve lost track of exactly how many times he made you come, and you’re seconds away from falling asleep, your tongue is less guarded than usual and you confess to a fantasy about being a fuck toy for all the boys. He doesn’t get a chance to ask about it because you fall asleep before you finish your sentence.

He has an early schedule the next day, the kind where he leaves before you even wake up, and he can’t focus because now, every time he looks at the boys, he’s picturing them fucking you and he is a little surprised by how far from upset he is about it. This wasn’t something that had occurred to him and if it had, he might’ve thought he’d be too jealous to want it. But now, every time he hears their voices or glances over at them, he’s wondering if you’ll make the same sounds for them that you make for him. And if the dance they’re practicing has body rolls in it? Forget it, he’s gone. More than once he’s had to make them leave a room ahead of him so he can get his dick under control.

That evening, he gets back to your apartment completely frazzled and on edge. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you first, to get himself partly under control, or if he needs to talk to you about your confession. Somewhat unsurprisingly, considering the state you were in, he has to remind you of what you said. You don’t deny it, but now you look a little scared of his reaction. Is he gonna be all possessive like he gets sometimes? Does he think you’re disgusting? Does he think you’ve cheated on him? These thoughts are racing so fast in your head, that you don’t immediately notice how hard he is from thinking about it. A short while later, he has you on your back, buried deep in your cunt and he starts asking for more about this fantasy of yours.

You fell asleep, but I think there was more, wasn’t there baby?

Promise you won’t be mad?

How could I be mad at you?

It takes a while, but you get it all out. I want them to use me, whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you gave me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too. Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed. Cockwarm Lixie or Minnie while he’s gaming. Fuck everybody during movie night. Ride Binnie’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Jinnie paint me naked, then fuck him.

He can’t deny the way every scenario you bring up brings him closer to his own orgasm. After, when he’s laying on top of you, both trying to catch your breath, you whisper, most afraid of this part because you’re afraid he’ll think you think he’s not good enough. I’ll be happy with that, but I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.

You spend the next week or so talking about it, discussing boundaries – of which there are few and depend entirely on the individual guys – and how exactly you’re going to seduce each of them. You agree to a one-at-a-time approach, instead of just offering yourself up in the group chat, which had been your initial idea.

Jeongin, being Chan’s roommate, is first. The two of you “forget” when he’s going to be back so he “accidentally” walks in on you fucking in the living room. You reach out to him and Chan verbally invites him to join you and you get to learn exactly how good those fingers you’ve fantasied about feel in your pussy and your mouth while he fucks you.

Felix is next. You’re not sure what Chan told him to convince him to come over to your place instead of Chan’s, but they walk into your apartment for dinner together that turns into you splayed out on the kitchen table with Felix eating you for dinner and then confessing he’s had a fantasy about being between the two of you, one you’re both thrilled to fulfill for him.

Hyunjin was a little tricky. You weren’t sure he would go for it the same way Jeongin and Felix did, so you took him out first, seduced him slowly. Gentle touches to his arm or the nape of his neck the whole time you’re in the art museum, thighs pressed together at dinner after. He’s frazzled, feeling super awkward, and unsure what to think by the time you get to your apartment and then shocked when Chan asks how your date went, like it’s totally normal to date your friend’s girlfriend. The awkwardness vanishes the second you’re straddling his hips and sinking onto his cock, Chan watching from the chair in the corner of the room.

The gym the boys use at the company is being remodeled, really just getting new equipment so it’ll only be down for about two days. But Changbin’s complaining about not getting his cardio in on the right day, and how he doesn’t want to go for a run outside in the rain. So Chan suggests a different form of cardio. Which is how you find yourself face down, ass up, while the pair of them take turns until you’re a drooling, cum filled mess.

Seungmin is a bit more like Hyunjin, he’s not going to just jump into bed with you. He needs to be seduced and shown that he’s wanted first. He’s insecure, particularly if he starts comparing himself to the other members. So you look up schedules and plan to take him to a baseball game. He agrees, but calls Chan a few minutes later saying I think your girlfriend just asked me on a date.  She totally did. Did you not want to go out with her, ‘cause you should tell her now, she’s already picking out her outfit. His mouth goes dry at the shirt tight enough to show an imprint of your lace bra and short skirt combo you come out in when he comes to pick you up. You don’t know much about baseball, but he’s thrilled to explain it to you. And while, with a voice like his, you could happily listen to him read the dictionary to you, you love the look on his face when he’s explaining something he’s passionate about. Back at his apartment, the first round is just you two, but he takes a few videos to send to Chan. Then Lix gets home and joins you both.

There’s only Minho and Jisung left and you’re pretty sure you should go after them as a pair. You have all the others together, asking their opinions as well, and most of them agree, they’ve been called chopsticks before for a reason after all. Talking about it has gotten them all worked up though, which you’ve found isn’t a difficult thing to do. So, after settling on a straight forward date plan where you and Chan explain the whole thing to them first, Binnie has you held in the air, your back to his chest, his hands gripping your thighs and holding them open so the others can see exactly how well he splits you open. And so he can show off his strength. Felix, who’s sex drive seems to perfectly match yours, is already a whimpering mess on the couch before he sinks to the floor and crawls over to Hyunjin to suck his cock.

That is, naturally, when Jisung and Minho decide to wander into Chan and Jeongin’s apartment. You vaguely heard the commotion but, being too absorbed in Changbin, you didn’t really register what Chan and Jeongin tell the other two. After Binnie cums, filling you up, he passes you to Seungmin, who let’s you splay out on the floor with a perfect view of Jisung and Minho over his shoulders. Minho is pressed against Jisung’s back, one arm wrapped around his middle, lips close to his ear. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can see the effect it’s having on him. You watch Jisung’s eyes go glassy, his mouth drops open and little whines slip out. His hips roll forward, seemingly without his conscious control. Minho, meanwhile, has the wickedest smirk on his face, staring straight at you the whole time. It’s his eyes you’re looking into when you cum on Seungmin’s cock.

As soon as Seungmin moves, Minho lets go of Jisung who is on his belly, face between your thighs so fast you’re impressed he didn’t fall. Your thighs clench around his head and that seems to spur him on more, licking Changbin and Seungmin’s cum out of you faster. You hear whimpering above you and turn to see it’s coming from Felix, whose eyes are glued to Jisung and who looks rather jealous. Before you can say anything, Chan catches it too and you recognize the glint in his eyes. It’s going to be a long, but very happy night.

And it is. You don’t really hear the exact words Chan says, but the gist of it is that they’re going to pass you around and each of the eight of them is going to cum inside you. Then, Felix and Jisung are going to eat it out of you. You can’t tell who’s more turned on by that – you, Felix, or Jisung. After that, things get a little hazy for you. There are so many hands on you and you never go for more than a minute without a cock filling you.

Jisung slides into you as soon as he’s licked you clean. He doesn’t last long, but you already came on his tongue, so you don’t even notice that you didn’t come on his cock. At some point Jeongin has you bent over the coffee table, thrusting into you from behind. Chan, because he thinks it’s adorable when you’re completely fucked out, tries to get you to ride him. You manage to roll your hips, but you’re so far gone that he giggles and takes over, thrusting up into you. Felix lays you on your side on the couch, letting you relax as much as you can while he thrusts into you, keeping one leg bent up and over his legs so you’re on display for the others. You know, because you can taste it when he kisses you, that he’s sucked off at least one person other than Hyunjin. Part of you is sorry you missed that. You don’t remember when Changbin and Seungmin fuck you again, but you know they did. You heard Binnie grunting in your ear and calling you Bunny. You think that might have been after Jeongin, still bent over the coffee table. You know Seungmin likes to see your face, so that had to have been him on the couch, after Felix, with your knees pressed to your chest.

You know, because you heard it, that both Felix and Jisung have each been fucked at least once, probably twice. You vaguely think someone fucked Jisung when he was inside you. You want to make a mental note to make sure you can watch that next time, but the thought is pushed right out of your head.

Then Minho’s sliding into you on the couch wondering how a slut who’s already taken so much cock can still be so tight. Hey Hyune, got an idea, come here. Then Hyunjin’s fingers are sliding into you beside Minho’s cock and you’re so full, you don’t think you could be fuller, but you’re wrong. You practically scream when Hyunjin slowly slides his cock into your pussy, sliding alongside Minho’s. They let you adjust before setting a punishing, alternating rhythm.

Felix is already on his back on the floor, when first Hyunjin then Minho cums. Minho holds you up, supporting your upper body as he slides you down so you can sit on Felix’s face. You can’t see it, but you can feel their combined cum oozing out of you and into Felix’s waiting mouth. Judging from the sounds under and around you, it must look obscenely good. Then you feel Jisung’s tongue join Felix’s. You grip Minho, digging your nails into his arms as the pair wring one final orgasm from you.

You collapse and Minho gently maneuvers you to the floor between Felix and Jisung. The trio of you, gasping for breath and in a hazy, post-sex space that you love, lay there and wait for the others. Chan and Minho are giving out instructions. Hyunjin’s sent upstairs to run a warm bath. Seungmin and Jeongin are tasked with getting drinks and food and bringing them up to the bathroom, though they bring out a water bottle for everyone first. Chan helps you sit up and drink the water. Then he, Changbin, and Minho are carrying you, Felix, and Jisung upstairs to the bath.

Gentle hands are washing you, Felix is cuddled into your chest and Jisung is fighting sleep where he’s cuddled against Felix.

You, babygirl, are a genius Chan says to you, kissing your forehead and tucking you into bed between Felix and Jisung, after convincing the trio of you to eat some of the food Seungmin and Jeongin bring up.

[theyluvlyss]

Hey!! you mentioned you wanted to write for tbp a while back, idk if ur still down but if so could I please get some robin hcs??

♡♡

𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧...

...I figured I'd use this as an opportunity to expand on all of the black phone boys, plus gwen, because... because I fucking can lmfao. so yeah, along with robin, I'll add finney, gwen, bruce, billy, vance, and griffin, if that's okay :)🖤.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥/𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

lyssa's personal rendition of the ghost boys + gwen (except the difference is that I'm 100% totally right and everyone else is wrong, so ya😙🖤✨️) ((I'm kidding, plz don't attack me)). also, prepare, because this is probably going to be sooo long lmao...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

none

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

1978 (plus some time afterward) - "if they lived" hdcns

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing - mentions of death/abuse/brutality - me getting passionate (hence why this is so long) - spoilers (if you somehow haven't seen the movie by this point💀) - autism/adhd related topics - highly encourage shifters to use whatever I've written here as black phone shift-inspo because I know the movie doesn't give us a lot to go on for the boys personality-wise (also, tag me in your drs, guys, I'm so nosy😆♡)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 :

I gotta get this off my chest before I forget and go insane, but oh my god, Finney is NOT the crybaby some of y'all make him out to be😹. That boy cried once in the entire one hour and forty-three minute runtime of the whole movie, okay? And it was when he was at his VERY LOWEST point during said movie/events, okay? Okay.

Y'all are fr gonna have to drop that narrative, because if it really came down to it, boy could talk mad shit and spread rumors like wildfire. All it takes is one little whisper to Bruce😆🤭...

Now that that's settled...

I feel like he's very non-confrontational as a person, though, fs. Like, if he's put in a position where his well-being/life is/may be on the line (😃...), then yeah, he'll do his best to stick up for himself. But otherwise, his main, favorite, and works-90%-of-the-time tactic is to just avoid conflict and places where it might occur altogether.

Also, I definitely think he's autistic. Like, no way he's not. Hyperfix? Space, obviously. Especially rockets, and then the science behind space/the things in space. I don't see him as a fan of loud noises, either (especially when we consider his upbringing). He also seems to not have the best handle on social cues/is awkward (but I guess that can also be perceived as a neurotypical trait, too, so idk). I also feel like he's defo a stickler for texture. Won't eat certain foods or wear certain fabrics,,, needs things to be a specific type of feeling/way for him to operate as usual, you feel me?

Having complete (emotional?) shutdowns when he's not in a positive mood and/or environment, only really having a logical way of thinking until the tasks/emotions run a bit too high and then he breaks down... I could go on, this really all seems like solid evidence to me, ngl🤷🏽‍♀️.

Bro just like me fr. Anyways.

I also think he's a huge fan of routine, especially simple ones that he can remember. Or, if/when a task is somehow connected to an object/person/other task? Yeah, his brain loves that.

He's a Cancer (birthday - July 10th), but I definitely think he's got Capricorn in his chart somewhere, too.

I might've brought this up before in another post, but I definitely think Finney would take/find interest in astrology. Maybe not actually believe in it or take it as seriously as the next person, but he'd definitely respects it because, while he's more of an astronomy guy, focusing on the logical aspects of space and stars and shit, astrology delves into a more spiritual and belief-based aspect, and he likes the thought of the stars that he loves having meanings and things that correspond to, not only your life, but to who you may be as a person.

Kind of like a little bit of insight, a look-see, on who someone is. So, with that, he definitely knows his own star sign and is happy to answer when asked.

"Oh, I'm a Cancer :). What are you?" And would probably find himself either asking or doing research on his own time on your/a person's answer to his rebound question.

A raging bisexual if I've ever seen one (I am one so I would know🫶🏽) (I give him the certified stamp of bi-ness, dw guys, I gave him proper clearance🫶🏽). Tell me he wasn't looking at Donna and Robin the same way. Actually, don't tell me, because if you say anything other than, "You're so right, Lyss😻‼️" I'm blocking you♡.

But in all seriousness, I feel like Finney himself didn't realize he felt the same feelings that he does for Donna for Robin until after he got with Donna (like,,, bro didn't clock it was the same feeling, nor that he even swung that way at all, until after the fact,,, does that make sense?). Sometimes, you just have those moments of clarity about yourself later on, I was kind of the same way.

Anyways, cat person to the third degree max. Only likes small dogs, and anything bigger than like,,, those little, fluffy ass dogs, he starts tweakin' real bad🥴💀. I don't blame him fr, though. Dogs are loud "BARK BARK🗣‼️" all in yo face, lick-lick, hyperactive, unpredictable... I could not deal, and neither could he.

I'm not saying cats are any more predictable or that they don't have their own cons, but hey, everyone has their preferences, and he just prefers cats🤷🏽‍♀️.

LOVEEESSS sugary/sweet tasting stuff. The type to always be craving a little sweet treat after dinner (genuinely, he does eat all the ice cream, he really tries to hold back for Gwen, but,,,😔✋🏽), or throughout the day, all he'll be thinking about is a crisp, cold soda.

😃💀His teeth are gonna be wrecked by the time he's thirty-five lol anyways...

He also loves a good crafting session. Could honestly spend hours in his room cutting up paper and pictures, building model rockets, making paper dolls for Gwen. He just really likes stuff he can sit, hunker down, and really focus on. Likes having his attention drawn, so things like crafting, watching TV, scrapbooking, etc. is really good/fun for him. Billy is DEFINITELY his picture plug, btw.

No way Finney isn't itching by the door for Billy to come by so he can be updated on the latest things added in the paper. Or, if his dad gets to it first, he's reminding him not to throw it out until he gets back home from school so he can still sort through it for what he wants.

Speaking of Gwen, I do fully believe that Finney was the one braiding her hair every morning before school. Not doubting their father's girl-dad skills or anything✋🏽😃✋🏽,,, but that man was barely coherent enough to not slur his words in every sentence, and you expect me to believe he was worried about making that girl's head look pretty for school? Girl, anyways💀✋🏽.

She probably asked him one day and he was like, "Gwenny, it's school, not a fashion show😐🍺."

For sure, it was her mom doing it every other day. So yeah, when she passed, Finney figured he wouldn't let tradition die along with her. He learned and would braid/style her hair for school however she wanted.

Umm, I think that's all I got, other than... like,,,

RIP Finney Blake, you would've gone feral watching The Sandlot😔🙏🏽.

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𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 :

She reminds me so, SO much of my little sister, so a lot of this might be me projecting her (my lil sis) onto Gwen🤭💀.

A little brat, but in the best/silliest way. Like yeah, she'll tease you and talk all that shit and lowkey kinda bully you, but bro, it's all love fr🫶🏽😙. If anything, if she's being extra polite and courteous to you, it's probably because you're someone she just met, or because she really dislikes you and is hoping that you'll catch onto her fakeness so she can exit stage left of the conversation lmao.

Another raging bi-in-training lollll. I'm sorry, but she's totally one of the girlies who never got a ken/boy doll so she had to "improvise" and "pretend" one of her girl dolls was a boy💀✋🏽. Like, girl, anyways, you know seeing Cher live on TV for the first time had you rethinking your entire life, don't deny it lmfao🤭🩷💜💙.

She has a very particular sense of style, like,,, has certain statement pieces and outfits she likes to mix and match, and only she really gets it, but it fits/suits her. Plus, some of it is from her mom, so ofc she has to rep it fr��🏽.

Once broke a girl's shin (as in, yes, Gwen kicked it that fucking hard), because another girl had said the pair of earrings she wore that day were ugly. Now, to be fair, the girl couldn't have known they were Gwen's dead mother's earrings, but bitch, didn't anybody tell you if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say shit at all🤨? Exactly. Mind your manners or get your shin kicked in😙♡.

Speaking of, contrary to the movie (yup, I go against canon, idc, sue me), I feel like she is NOT a fair/honorable fighter at all (or a trained one, for that matter). Especially if you're hurting someone she loves (so Finney, obvs). She's biting, pulling hair, grabbing anything she can use as a weapon, outnumbering you if she can somehow recruit ppl; she gives no fucks.

And you can't talk her out of it, either. She's dead set on two facts; 1. If you attack me, I assume my life is at stake, and I'm fighting you as such. If you wanna call that unfair, idk, maybe you shouldn't have thrown hands with me🤷🏻‍♀️. 2. I don't start shit, I finish it. I won't throw the first punch, but if you do, anything I do to you afterward is self-defense🤷🏻‍♀️.

Robin and Vance have tried to teach her otherwise - y'know... give her the ol' dignity and honor speech - but sheeee...

She wasn't listenin' to that shit bro bffr💀✋🏽.

And while yes, she didn't take that piece of advice from him the one time, anything else that leaves Vance's mouth might as well be damn near close to Jesus speaking directly to her😭. She's practically got a crush on Vance, and it's so obnoxious, it's not even funny.

The girl will go off with her little girl friends and basically stalk him (guys, let's not act like teenage girls aren't literally insane😻💀) and often, she enjoys his fights and is finding literally any and every way to just even have a conversation with him. Vance,,, has not caught on at all, but it's probably for the best💀✋🏽.

He sees her as another one of his sisters, at most. Annoying, yet charming in her own way, and is always sure to give her some half-assed advice; "I don't wanna see your ass outside when the street lights come on, got it?" "Yup🫡😻!!" And occasionally gives her a fight-related tip.

Same thing with Robin, but to a much lesser degree. It's more like a fond admiration, like, that's basically a second older brother. Has and will continue to scarf down any food he brings over, even if it wasn't even for her. And if he gets pressed, she'll just-

"It's me appreciating it 'cause your stuff is good😃😇...!" "😐🧍🏽" And then she's running off to avoid any scoldings.

I feel like Gwen is a very ambitious person. Doesn't take no shit, which can make her stubborn at times, but at the end of the day, she always finds what she's looking for and/or gets the answers she needs. Ambitious and persistent.

Definitely a go-getter type, which was why she even took the time to read up more on her little ability, what it means, etcetc. Miss girl wanted answers, she was going to find 'em🤷🏽‍♀️.

I have no clue when her birthday is (if someone knows it, TELL ME👹), but for now, I hdcn she's either a Taurus, Leo, Gemini, Cancer or Virgo (some of those also being in her chart as well, if that makes sense).

She is so totally, undeniably, and authentically 🎀🩷✨️girl✨️🩷🎀 like,,, idk how to explain. Like, yeah, she's rough around the edges, and her mouth is trash, and her attitude is up the wall, but oHMYGOD, SHE'S THE GIRLIEST GIRL through it all, somehow. It's so sweet and cute.

The type to spend time dressing up her dolls and making sure her dollhouse is in PERFECT shape after just rolling around in the mud. Has Finney braid up her hair in all these intricate, detailed ways just to get her comb stuck in them in matted knots a minute later. Only uses purple, pink, and yellow pens for her school work/notes, but she inherited her dad's shitty handwriting, so yeah, you can barely read that shit...but it looks pretty as hell, don't it😌? Does her nails allll of the time, but will immediately do other things right after, barely letting them dry, which leads to them smudging and looking a little messy.

Things like that just make her who she is. They make her ✨️Gwen✨️, y'know?

Also, her favorite color is yellow. Random, but idc, it makes perfect sense.

RIP Gwen Blake, you would've loved White Chicks😔🙏🏽.

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𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐨 :

- before his death -

He's an Aquarius (birthday - February 2nd, which is literally two days before mine🤭💜🧡), but he's definitely got Libra and/or Leo somewhere in his chart, for sure.

I feel like he's the type to think/say none of that "astrology shit" matters, but then know his whole entire chart, top to bottom, and only wants to know/cares about the charts of people close to him. And I bet you he only did it because Finney brought it up once, and he wanted to know what the hell he was talking about💀.

While on the topic of Finney, tho, he probably had eyes on Finn since day one. Wanted to befriend him since the sandbox days, but didn't really have an excuse until he found out he was being bullied. Thought maybe one day Finn would fight back, but he never did, soooo😗...

Robin got to step in😈. And then all it took was landing on a common interest, and 💥BOOM💥. 4lyfers🤞🏽.

I feel like Robin also feels his feelings pretty deeply, more so than people realize, but again, he's definitely not finna let you know that. The type to cry it out/cuss people out quietly under his breath/vent to himself when he's absolutely sure he's alone, and then act like he never did it at all. And shit, he's good at hiding it. You'd probably never even know unless you were close with him or he flat out told you.

He's kind of a show-off, if anything😭. Just a little bit, nothing crazy, but he does get a kick out of "proving a point" beating the breaks off of someone "for the crowd". Or just anything he's skilled at; he might not actively seek the attention, but god, he hopes someone is watching, 'causeeeeee😗😙.

He was definitely taught to fight from his father, but continued to go to boxing classes after he went off to war and never came home. Robin would go wherever he could find them/they were offered (bonus points if they're free), spending a lot of time brushing up on technique, form, whatever. Even takes the time to actually read up on more, study it; does better with visual stuff, though, like pictures or videos or someone showing/guiding him, things like that.

That round-kick ain't just pure talent, y'know😌 (he'd definitely argue otherwise, tho).

He has a whole bandana collection that he's super proud of and kind of just started, but that green one is signature. Something his father left behind, and, like Gwen,,, my man's gotta rep it, you feel me😌✊🏽. Literally ONLY let's his mom touch it, and that's only to wash it. Off limits to every and anybody else, even his own uncle, and everyone knows it, too. The other bandanas are free game, though.

Robin was often given cooking lessons from his mom, and he found he likes to bake, too, but can't bake for shit. It always comes out completely burnt or not at all like he was expecting (it makes him so sad, too😭 like, bro just wants to make his own tres leches instead of having to wait for special occasions,,, is that too much to ask😫?).

A horror movie nut from day one. Definitely something that startled/disturbed his mother for a little while, but she got over it💀✋🏽.

He's not in it for the scares or anything, but for the production (although he loves and cherishes the semi-rare times where he actually jumps). He's actively studying the movies, what makes them good vs. bad, the actors, the lighting, the music, atmosphere, dialog, everything. Even watched the really cheesy, awful, bad ones. He's thought about hashing out some faint ideas he's had, maybe in script format, but really just didn't have the skill for that just yet. So, he stuck to just observing for the time being.

His favorite trope is "everybody dies". Doesn't mind a good "final girl/boy" or a "beat the shit out of the bad guy/murderer/ghost" ending, either.

...Robin realized/knew he couldn't fight The Grabber, but was super salty/petty about it. Would scratch and bite at him like a damn dog, kicked at him, made it really difficult for The Grabber to literally exist in that basement with him (which was why his death was quick, you alr know The Grabber was 'bout sick of his ass lmfao). Fought like hell until the end and thought about his dad the wholeee time.

Very- .... SUPER annoyed when he woke back up in the basement,,, livid when he saw The Grabber walk in with Finney...

- if he had lived -

I wouldn't put a label on Robin, and neither would he himself, to be honest. Like, even "unlabeled" is a label to him. He truly has the "If they're hot, they're hot🤷🏽" mindset and pretty much has his whole life.

Doesn't even really see the need for labels at all, but if you tried to get him going on that, he'd be more than likely to wave it off so he didn't have to go through the trouble of being misunderstood when trying to explain.

He totally would've been a movie buff/critique. Hell, probably would've made his way into the industry on some film student type shit🤭. Not the best when it comes to actually writing shit out or explaining exactly what he means, but when he has a vision, he has a VISION. Trust the process, fr🤞🏽.

Is totally the target audience for all that action-packed shit. Rocky, Karate Kid, Top Gun,,, very male, very g u y, very macho-manly lmao. Might possibly even be a weakness, like,,, he really can't resist that stuff (not as passionate as he is for the horror genre, tho).

I feel like he would get really into the rap/hip-hop scene. Would also fw r&b mad heavy, love him some Michael Jackson, even dresses diff to kind of fit with that aesthetic...

Couldn't bring himself to cut his hair, though, he's too attached😭. That's absolutely staying, or at least getting braided up or something.

Actually, he was straightening/perming his hair a lot of the time, mostly when he was coming up, but eventually stopped and let it grow its naturally wavy pattern. He would cut off the dead hair as it grew more and healthier (never fully chopped/buzzed it off, though, bc again,,, he couldn't bare to lose the length), and he eventually learned to take proper care of it.

(We love happy, healthy, natural hair over here, y'all lmfao😻‼️).

Would definitely cook for his mom, both when asked and just because he felt like it (or if he's craving something specific for dinner that evening, he'll pull the, "Ama, let me cook tonight, I love you🥰." card so he can get away with cooking what he wants lmfao). Sometimes, he'll send his uncle off with leftovers for work or just make his own lunch for school, boxing, or going to work with his uncle, shit like that.

Still hasn't quite grasped onto baking yet, though. Still burns most of his stuff and has totally given up on making cookies (he's fs the type to end up with one, giant, morphed ass cookie on the sheet and he just has to stare at it in pure disbelief like ">:0..." lmao💀) ...

MASTERED THE FUCKIN' TRES LECHES, THO, LET'S GOOOO🗣🗣🗣‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯

Robin has friendly beef with Bruce bc fym you playing against my man🤨? I think tf not, Finney better win or "...that's your ass, Yamada." Won't actually do anything, tho, Bruce is cool people fr lmao.

More on him as a person, though, I feel like he'd definitely realize he's one helluva looker one day and DEFINITELY use it to his advantage. Charmer, but in a corny way that makes you shake your head and sigh type beat. Not really a romantic, but has and will make exceptions for the right people at the right time.

Even before that, though, he was always kinda cocky and it really only got "worse" for lack of a better word💀😭. Like, he's cute/hot, and he KNOWS it, but he's still gonna play clueless as if he's not looking at you with those big brown eyes and giving you a knowing smirk. Gets away with entirely too much, fs.

Robin's also a certified yapper. Doesn't even have to know you. You give him one good reason to like you or he hears you say something even mildly relating to one of his interests, he'll just start talking to you like he knows you (it's how he's made a lot of his friends, ngl, he's just outgoing and relatively friendly).

Talks mad shit, too. Bro's no better than a woman😭. Gets all the tea from the beauty shop/salon where his mom be going. It's okay, tho, because he's got such good energy and is a charmer in his own way (like I said), so it's hard to dislike him or to want to turn him away from your ongoing convos.

Laughs at everything, but says nothing (if that makes sense). He's sooo... "Nah, nah, it's just...🤭💀*more giggling*"

Bro is just a dork, he's easy to make laugh/entertain, not as stoic as most ppl think he is (regardless of the resting bitch face he chronically suffers from). Dare I say, he's lowkey a little bit manic pixie dream boy coded. No, I won't elaborate♡.

One like on this fic equals one step closer to a cure for Robin's RBF😔🧡.

Only does edibles. He's so scared of something ever happening to his lungs (health class traumatized him, no joke. He saw that model of the charred, black lungs from smoking, and that was all it took. He won't inhale SHIT that's not oxygen bro lmfao💀😭✋🏽).

Would probably cry if his mom caught him smoking anything anyway, so it never even occured to him to try it. He can hide being high, but he knows damn well you can't hide the smell of that shit, so gummies it is🍃✨️☁️.

RIP Robin Arellano, you would've been geeked at the fact that the Halloween franchise is still going 3-5 decades later😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 :

- before his death -

I feel like he got moved around a lot as a kid because his dad was a military brat or whatever (a classic hardass type with The Abuser Mustache™) ((if you don't know what I mean by the mustache look, think about/look up Chloe's stepdad from Life Is Strange)).

It didn't matter where he went/was/moved, though, because it was a dysfunctional home life regardless. Mom and dad always fighting, no real stable income (one of those things where it was like,,, sometimes they came off as well-off and be spoiled, and sometimes, they were going to an off-brand thrift shop for cheap clothes and other necessities), things like that.

So when his dad left, it definitely left a mark on everyone in the house. Bittersweet type of thing because while yes, he was a dickwad, he was still their dad and he cared for them in his own, fucked up way (part of why Vance is so angy😞).

I don't give not one good fuck what anyone says, Jim Hopper (Stranger Things) is that boy's uncle, idcidc😻✨️!!

(I love connecting fandoms thru coinkydink headcannons♡).

Vance is a middle child who has all sisters (five, to be exact. One eldest who's college age, a second eldest who's about a year or two younger than the oldest, one that's basically his irish twin, a younger sister around Gwen's age, and then a baby sister who's still in diapers). And absolutely he would go to bat for all of them (especially them two youngest, he don't play about them and he spoils them to death if/when he can).

Woman dominated house fr, and probably a big part of the reason he isn't fully/entirely off the rails (AND WHY HE WOULD N O T TREAT WOMEN LIKE SHIT. Again, I'm sorry but y'all gonna have to drop the narrative of him treating girls and/or fem readers like absolute dogwater. He knows ENTIRELY better, he's not a crazy monster, bro probably wouldn't even enjoy cussing at you, let alone calling you out of your name with things like "dipshit" and "cunt" and "fuckface" in a "loving" way all of the time, like absolutely not,,, I could go more into this but that's for the next set of hdcns I'm going to pos-...oop, I've said too much🤭- MOVING ON...!).

Speaking of cussing, though... Regardless of what I just said before, I feel like it doesn't mean he still wouldn't curse. Like, no, that boy can work his mouth REAL good. He probably started talking from an early age, too. Dude's first word(s) was probably something really sweet/cute, or something just absolutely vile, no in between💀😭. Maybe both.

Over time, though, he learned when and when not to do so. Like, when/where it was appropriate for him to cuss and when not to. For example, he'll cuss with/at his friends, in front of adults he doesn't know/doesn't give a shit about. But in more professional settings like school or whatever, he'll tone it down because he's trying NOT to get in trouble more than he already has (doesn't mean it's worked, but hey, at least he tried lmao). He cusses at home, yes, he'll cuss around his mom but not AT her, huge difference. Has cussed out his father plenty of times, cops as well. Won't cuss around the younger sisters, but will with/at the older ones. Point is, he's good at gaging the situation.

He's a Leo (birthday - August 10th), but for some reason, I think there's maybe some Pisces in his chart?? I...idk, don't question my madness✋🏽🥴✋🏽. But yeah, he couldn't give two fucks less about birth charts. That stuff not only means nothing to him, but he thinks it's really stupid, too. The only reason he even knows his own sign is because of one of his sisters, and that's it. Knows nothing about what being a Leo entails, doesn't care to find out, and will probably look at you crazy if you bring it up.

He has this fixation with pinball because there was always a machine or a place that had one close by, no matter where he went; he'd used it to drown out memories/high emotions, but now is just addicted to playing it, even when he's not pissed off💀. He was real pissy one day, played it, WON,,, and since then, he hasn't really felt a joy/satisfaction like it. Angry/upset feelings immediately morphed into, "Holy shit, I fucking won...!!" And that was it, he was hooked. Bro probably has the highest score on so many machines across the midwest area and doesn't even know he has this "nobody can beat this mystery Vance guy" reputation states away or something💀✋🏽.

Another thing he uses to distract/sooth himself is music. Not a full music geek or anything, but LOVVVESSS rock/metal music (if you couldn't already tell given his style). Kiss, Metallica, all of that shit. Was dreaming for the day he either got an electric guitar as a Christmas or birthday gift or for when he could save up for his own.

And, because he wanted to further mimic all the cool rockstars he was seeing coming up, he tried a cigarette ONCE, and he ended up hating that shit💀. He fr wanted to see the appeal so bad, too, but he just can't, and side-eyes people whenever he sees them smoke, now.

"Their breath is fucking rank, I just know it..." "They're literally addicted, Vance, they cant help it." "They need to be addicted to a fucking toothbrush and some mint gum🫢🤢."

Like Robin, when Vance got snatched, he fucked with and was doing his best to beat the breaks off The Grabber until the bitter end. He had a better advantage, too, because he's much bigger, so he definitely got good licks in - which led to The Grabber starving him so that he was too weak to fight back so yes, he took his time with Vance, made his death hurt, which just kinda left Vance feeling pissed off and hopeless until he died.

- if he had lived -

He definitely would've learned to calm down a bit; some time and talks with his mother and sisters, some warning calls from Uncle Jim, the threat of actual prison and not just "juvie for a couple of days" eventually set him straight. Still quick to anger, but he doesn't practically kill people anymore😃👍🏽. Don't ... Don't fuck with his pinball machine, though, that's still a very active warning/threat on his behalf.

He also gained a sense of moral justice, so even if he did decide to go apeshit (y'know, for old times sake), it'd be for a valid reason, ngl.

That lady from the Grab'n'Go store fs gave him that pinball machine at one point (replaced it with a lamer game or something, like Pac-Man or whatever). When she straight up realized Vance wasn't going to let anyone else touch that shit, let alone beat his high score, which meant she wasn't getting any business with it, she basically just-

"Ykw, just take it😐". ... "...What :0??"

He was clueless as hell, too, genuinely had NO IDEA why she would give him the ENTIRE MACHINE TO KEEP FOR FREEEEE, but was VERY grateful. His mom even tried to get him to give it back, but that woman insisted😭. "I don't know what you think I'm supposed to do with it if you won't let anyone else touch it, Vance. Just keep it and stop wrecking my store."

He didn't at first, has no clue when or how it happened, but very suddenly and intensely grew a guilty-pleasure liking for superheroes. Really likes The Hulk and X-Men comics and has stacks of them he's both bought and stolen collecting in his room.

Sometimes, he rips them up and makes posters out of them, like,,, rips out certain characters or speech bubbles he likes or whole pages and then plasters them around his room.

Relating to superheroes, kind of... You wouldn't think it, but he's got that Spider-Man mentality where it's like,,, he's always looking out for the little guy. When his sense of moral kicked in, he wasn't just fighting for no reason anymore. Now he was fighting if he saw some fuckers talking mad shit or doing something he knew was wrong on their part, so he'd set 'em straight. Would make sure people he didn't have problems with weren't getting picked on.

Also has a high respect for Robin because he essentially does the same shit, and because while Vance has the size advantages, Robin has the skill advantages that he doesn't. The feeling is mutual, too.

Is very confused and awkward when he is told/finds out girls have crushes on him. Very much like🧍🏼‍♂️.

Not opposed, just... bro don't know what to do with that info, and he sure as hell aint making the first move💀✋🏽.

He's more of a close bond, has to have already been best friends first, and then develop feelings along the way, typa guy. Likes real and close connections that actually have a chance at lasting (especially considering his childhood consisted of a lot of moving around, never really getting to keep friends, etcetc).

RIP Vance Hopper, you would've loved Thunderstruck by AC/DC but slowed and reverbed😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 :

- before his death -

I'm not even gonna lie,,, think of your average, white, classic, all-american poster family from the movies,,, That was his life. Stay at home, quirky mom, breadwinner businessman father, bratty little brother, rebellious older sister, golden retriever dog, snow white cat, nice suburban house with a front lawn and a backyard with a grill and pool, all of that😭.

He's lowkey kinda spoiled, too, for the listed reasons above lmao. Not in a bad way, but sometimes he says or does things that are a little tone deaf and you're just like "😃..." But I mean, if you communicate well enough, he's more inclined to understand.

It's just cultural/environmental difference, fr, that's all lmao.

Billy was doing the paper boy gig to save up for a car. A specific one, too (defo a car guy, I feel like).

I couldn't give details, but I just feel it in my nuggets, he was saving up for a specific car and my boy was DETERMINED, too. Bro was DEDICATED to getting this fucking car. Everyone around him knew it, like he made it very clear his only goal in life at the moment was to get that car lmfao.

I feel like he's a very detail-oriented person, but in the way where it's like,,, Very adhd-coded. Won't clean his room because "It's an oragnized mess, don't touch anything, I know exactly where everything is" type beat. Or like, whenever he has multiple tasks to complete, he'll do that thing where he'll stand somewhere and just start glitching lmfao like when you give a sim too many tasks at once.

He also really likes making lists. But then all of his lists get jumbled up, so he's gotta find the right list for the right stuff LMFAO it's silly, he's silly.

I also think he's a good writer and takes interest in books and poetry. Wouldn't write poetry, but would read it a lot. But definitely has half-assed, pending ideas for his own original stories/books.

And comics, too, he really likes graphic novels, things that have both descriptions and pictures that correspond with one another.

Like Vance, he also really likes superheroes, but unlike him, he's always been into comics and stuff since he was little, so the interest didn't just pop out of nowhere. Not really a Marvel guy. He leans more towards DC, so his favorites are Aquaman and Superman.

He also loves cartoons. Like, to an unhealthy amount. There he is every morning, sat right in front of the TV, no matter how many times his parents have told him to back tf up before he ruins his eyes, with a piping hot cup of coffee, glued to the screen running all of his favorite cartoons lmao. I don't think he'd ever grow out of it, either. He'd be in his 40s-50s, totally adapted to the newer cartoons like The Amazing World Of Gumball or whatever lmao.

You can pry the original Scooby-Doo from his cold, dead hands, though💀.

Billy's a Sagittarius (birthday - December 12th), but I think he also has come Capricorn, Libra, and/or Cancer in his chart. He just seems like a very chill, curious, and understanding person, which can either make people really like him at first or misjudge him (maybe even dislike) him. But at the end of the day, he's very secure in himself and who he is. He knows what he's got going on. And like I said, he loves to learn further and understand, so it's not like he's ever going to purposefully cause problems or anything.

If at all, I think he's also a non-confrontational person, much like Finney. He stays in his own lane, does his very best to avoid conflict, and while sure, he's got a lot of scattered friends from different areas and walks of life and whatever, it's that way for a reason😭. He's just a good dude fr!

He's also more outspoken than you would think at first. Can definitely hold and even start a friendly conversation, and honestly... TAKE HIM TO YOUR PARENTS👹👏🏽‼️. Adults love him, he's very polite and courteous, and they find him funny because he can for SURE crack a well-timed joke.

I mean it, too, I think Billy definitely has a way with words and comedy. He's so on par with all different types of humor, so once he picks up on yours, oh my god, he'll have you crying-laughing lmao.

Like Vance, he's good at cussing, he will cuss you the fuck out with his sassy, petty ass💀✋🏽. Knows better than to cuss in front of adults (like I said, they love him, and he plans to keep it that way lmao), and he probabaly won't call you out your name, but boyyyyy he's got a mouth on him😭💀!

Speaking of, oUUU he's a petty mf, he don't let SHIT slide. Ever. Bro can't fight but whew...!! He be talking shit like he can😭 (he's probably gotten his ass kicked due to this once or twice, ngl, but hey, you live and you learn lmfao).

Billy was a little too calm when he got snatched up. Like yea, he fought tooth and nail when he initially got grabbed off of his bike, but once he was in that basement and after a few days, he sadly just kind of,,, accepted his fate.

What he didn't expect was to be put through the psychological tortures of like,,, being beat or thinking he had the chances to escape whenever The Grabber would give him false hope, that stuff. That really fucked with him up until he died.

- if he had lived -

Oh, you can bet your ass he got that fckn car💀.

He was feelin' himself for WEEKS after the fact, too. He was giving all his friends rides, honking whenever he arrived at places, always keeping it PRISTINE looking. Not a scratch, dent, or spec of dust on or in that mf😹.

Just overall being super obnoxious about it ngl lmfao💀😭 (but he deserves to be, he worked so hard for it and everybody understood that, so it's fine). Got a better job after the fact, too, now that he could actually take himself to and from.

I know I mentioned him drinking coffee earlier, but to expand on that a little more, he was basically always drinking coffee and energy drinks to stay awake and (barely🥴) coherent when he was doing his paper boy job and school at the same time, so he now unfortunately has a caffeine addiction that he cannot shake for the life of him. He's tried so many things, he just can't let go😭. He likes it really sweet, too (he has a sweet tooth).

He'll add a lot of creamer, flavored syrup, sugar... whatever he can find to kind of just dilute the bitter taste entirely, he's throwing it in the mug. Also part of the reason why he's more fond of soda/energy drinks, because at least he doesn't have to deal with that nasty taste coffee has (I'm a coffee hater, hop off😒✋🏽).

Also like I mentioned earlier, he'd still have this weird yet cute thing with cartoons. Like, yeah, he'd enjoy a good movie (indie, coming of age type stuff), but cartoons just really do it for him. Sitting at the kitchen table with his second bowl of fruit loops laughing at Tom and Jerry is his therapy, truly♡.

While he can be out of touch, he's very open and easy to gain understanding from, loves to learn (especially since he's a writer). Just an all-around stand-up guy fr, you can not go wrong with Billy Showalter.

Hell, he can do no wrong😭❤️.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT HIS DOG, WHAT THE FUCK >:0!!!

HE LOVES THAT HYPERACTIVE LITTLE SHIT😭❤️🐶❤️. He's had her for a long ass time, since she was a puppy (idc what anyone says, the goldie is a girl, and her name is Harper), and it truly is the case of a dog is a man's best friend between them. He begged for the dog, got the dog, takes care of the dog, spoils the dog, he loves the damn dog, okay🥲?

He could be stripped of everything he knows and loves, and Billy would STILL make sure Harper was okay first before all. She's such a good dog, too. She's very polite and sweet, and it doesn't take much to get her going. Like I said, very hyperactive, so pretty much all you have to do is say a favorite word ("outside" "ball" "play" "treat" "good girl" "go get..." etcetc) in a certain, happy tone, and now she's all riled up.

Speaking of love, though, Billy's got so much rizz, I can't even fully explain what I mean. I could better convey it with writing, tho (somebody plz request Billy fics).

Like he's just... he's one of those guys you don't pay much attention to, but he could do ONE meaningful (or tbh even meaningless) thing, and suddenly, he's a 10/10.

The type of guy you'd have zero feelings for, but have one singular dream about being with him romantically, and then you'd wake up with a crush on him. He's just got it like that, idk what to tell you🤷🏽‍♀️😆.

RIP Billy Showalter, you and Harper would've loved Courage The Cowardly Dog😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐚 :

- before his death -

He's definitely a popular person, like,,, easy on the eyes, charming with both his words and actions, handsome smile, LOVES to gossip, has a clean-cut, crisp style, and you wanna tell me he doesn't literally know/is on good terms with everybody from every clique? Girl, bye🤭✋🏽.

He'd look at you and say it, too💀.

"Girl, BYE😹✋🏼!!"

On that, though, I feel like his mom very much prides herself on appearance. Not in a vain, controlling way, but just in a "I love and care about my babies, so every time they step out this house, they gonna be looking RIGHT, idc" type of way.

And after a while, he definitely picked that up from her, so he takes it upon himself to always look spick and span.

He's a Gemini (birthday - June 12th), but I think he could very well have some earth placements as well. He'd find astrology interesting, kind of like Finney, but he wouldn't dive too deep into it. He'd know his Sun, Moon, and Rising sign, ask about yours, and unless you went further with it, the conversation on astrology would probably end there lol.

Also, kinda random, but his nickname is "Brucie". Like, idk, it's just fitting. It's not an all the time thing that everyone calls him, but if you know him and if you're close to him, it's kind of like a teasing thing. "Heyy, Brucie, what'cha been up to😹✨️?" You know?

I feel like overall, he's just a very calm, cool, and collected person. Not easy to irritate him or make him mad/upset (but omg, don't do it, he gets feral so fast), and also very understanding. Good listener, which is why he's good with the gossip. Very much resident secret keeper, unless he knows it's something he needs to tell, if that makes sense.

Totally the type to be like, "I won't tell anyone :D!" And then immediately think to himself, 'I can't wait to tell my mom/best friend/Amy lol'. But don't worry, that's the only person he'd tell fr😭✋🏽 (who am I kidding, he's messy as hell, and we all know it).

He do be instigating fs. Will watch somebody like Vance or Robin get pissed about something and be in his ear all like, "Wooowww, I can't believe they'd do that, what are you gonna do? You're not gonna let it slide, are you🫢😗🙃??" LMFAOOO just messy💀😹.

I honestly think of him the same way I think of Benny Rodriguez. Baseball was life to him. Like, it was his passion, it wasn't just something he did because it was a fun hobby or a distraction. Like yes, but it was more than that as well. It was everything to him, and he definitely had dreams to go the distance with it and actively searched and scouted for any and every opportunity to do so.

I also think Bruce is a very thorough music lover. Very non-discriminatory or judgemental, and will honestly vibe to anything. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have his favorites. Just has a wide range, that's all. Also an MJ fan for sure, tho.

Like Finney, he's got a close bond with his sister, Amy (who I hdcn is younger than him), but the vibe is a lot different. You probably wouldn't even know they were siblings outside of the house if it weren't for the fact they look alike. Not because they're embarrassed of each other or anything, they just have vastly different cliques/lifestyles, so the only time they really get to reconnect is back at home or on family outings.

The Grabber took Bruce and he had a wholllle mental breakdown. Like, got in that basement and was a full-on mess, literally inconsolable. Cried at everything for every reason up until he died, and if one were to have witnessed it, it'd be very heartbreaking.

The Grabber almost feels guilty for it, but only because he can't get the sobs, hiccups, and voice cracks out of his head. Ik I just said Bruce is a triple C case (calm, cool, collected type), but c'mon, guys. He's a Gemini. He be switching up😔🤷🏽‍♀️💔. There were maybe two or three key moments where he did something beneficial to himself/was an attempt to escape, but...yeah...

- if he had lived -

Bruce would've fulfilled those dreams on going the distance with baseball.

Or would've done a complete 180° from whatever everyone and even himself thought and would've become a fashion designer. I can't elaborate on this, I just...I feel it in my bonesssss.

Which reminds me, he definitely would've discovered his own style at some point and would've dived DEEP into exploring different things. Trendsetter type of vibe (and it would either be the case of people around would've been eating it up or they would've shunned him, no in between. But I feel like he'd have the charisma for ppl to eat it up).

Much like Robin, actually, he's so the type to be cute and KNOW he's cute, but act clueless lmao. Walking around as if he's not getting letters and gifts and whatnot from secret admirers WEEKLY, flashing a smile and/or a wink at people, all of that. But what makes him even more likable is that he's such a GIVER.

Bro is always giving somebody something, it's just in his DNA, it's all he knows. Not even his parents know where he gets it from, and while it's a very admirable thing he does,,, don't get it twisted, he's not naive, he'll take things and remove himself from your life just as fast if you fuck up. Don't test him, his patience is lowkey surpsingly thin💀.

But yeah, he's always offering his time, his money, his thoughts, his praise, his compassion. If he feels like you derseve it (doesn't even have to know you well, you'd just have to make/leave a good impression on him), next thing you know, he's trying to find out what you like and what you're interests are so he can just pop up later and be like, "Oh, here, I got/made you this :)."

Like SIRRR???🥲💚

But anyways, yeah, Bruce is the resident pretty boy. I mean, he was before, but I feel like he's the type to just get better with age. Bro would be 80 years old looking like a fine ass 45😻. And it definitely is a result of upkeep/routine; he and his mama zon't💅🏽 play when it comes to looking fresh.

RIP Bruce Yamada, you would've loved fit-checks on TikTok if you ever figured out how to use it😔🙏🏽.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠 :

- before his death -

This neurodivergent little fucker OUUU he's an AuDHD menace to society, a little gremlin👹. Nothing he does or says makes any sense but YES IT DOES like,,,

He's just so inquisitive and insightful; wise beyond his years type. Just one of those kids who have an innate sense of self, society, and the world from a very young age. But it's all thinly veiled behind this glass wall of silly/aloof behavior.

Also, he is a younger kid, so that kind of adds onto the whole "People don't take him as seriously as they often really should" deal.

He's one of those people you either really love for who he is, or you find him very odd and off-putting. Or both. Not that he cares because he knows exactly what and who serves him and what and who won't for the current moment. Like I said, he's just...ahead of himself/time/what people would expect.

But also-

"You ain't gonna tell me shit. ... Suck my dick. ... Suck my dick you fuckman. ... You're gonna be here sucking my dick." That's literally him.

"You ever think the wind is trying to tell us something?" His poor tired mom, probably > "I just want you to stop saying odd shit😮‍💨🍷..." That is also him.

He's a Leo (birthday - July 31st) but I don't believe that for even a second, so I have the theory he's got a lot of earth and air in his chart that overshadows the fact that he's a Leo. I think he's one of those kids that dips his toe into everything, so whether or not his beliefs align with whatever he has knowledge on doesn't really matter. He just likes to know.

So, on that note, he does know some stuff on astrology, knows his birth chart, will tell you his sign if/when asked and will definitely ask for yours if he's curious enough to know more about you. If not, he probably wouldn't ask.

Griffin is everybody's little brother, tho, fr. Like even if you don't really know him or "like" him per se, you always feel some typa way if you see him being picked on or whatever. It's pretty much an unwritten rule in that small down in Denver,,, Do not fuck with Griffin Stagg. Like, even fully grown adults go to bat for him, I'm being so serious right now😭.

Lowkey kind of a teacher's pet. Not because he's a try-hard or anything, but he genuinely does everything he's supposed to. He participates when he wants to, he keeps straight As, he's quiet, all that. So, whether Griffin himself knows it or not, he's on a lot of his teacher's good sides :).

It definitely makes his mom happy, too, which he likes. A total mama's boy all the way (I feel like all of the boys are, tbh, but not in that weird, emotional incest, toxic way lmfao💀).

Speaking of...! Defo an only child of a tired but very loving single mom. A SINGLE MOM WHO WORKS TWO JOBS, WHO LOVES HER KID AND NEVER STOPS😫🗣🎶‼️. That's their case.

And it's not that he's sheltered or anything. He just doesn't have the strongest urge or whatever to go out and do stuff that doesn't - like I said - serve or benefit him at the moment. His mom really does try to encourage him, though. To go out and make friends, to go do something with any free time he has besides spending it in his room or with her. Sometimes he listens.

Sometimes not lmao. He really is a homebody, and if he had things his way all the time, he'd like a nice, quiet, and peaceful environment to be in if he HAD to go out. Like a park but with no kids there or a library. Maybe he'd enjoy an arcade,,, but only if it was on a very slow day and everything was deep cleaned and the machine's volumes were turned down lower and- 🥴💀.

Yeah...

It's not that he has memory or noise/sensory issues or anything (or maybe he does, he honestly wouldn't know for sure himself lol), but he's just got stuff constantly whirring around in his brain.

Operates with the file system (has to open up specific cabinets/drawers and sort through the files, find the exact memory/topic he's looking for, etcetc, it's a whole, intricate system) and even then, that's not always guaranteed.

So yeah, if he's says "I dunno" or "Prolly" just give him a second or two afterwards, because it's not that he's actually forgotten or doesn't know, he's just stalling while his brain lags lmao (he might even be sassing you a little🤭).

When he got snatched and put in that basement, he was calm, but not like Billy, where he just had a moment of acceptance. Calm like,,, more like when Finney was in the basement. Just very observant, scared, and confused. Almost a little painfully naive, which made it easy for The Grabber to mess with him😕.

And he (The Grabber) did for a while, "play with his food" for lack of better wording, before Griffin eventually wised up and started getting a little too smart, quick, and sneaky for his liking. Which led to his death, for sure, because I have a hdcn that Griffin fr almost got out (again, kinda like Finney's case) but unfortunately, couldn't try all the lock combos in time before he was back in the basement and then eventually,,, yk,,, for having tried it at all.

- if he had lived -

I feel like he'd be the type to have explored so many different interests, niches, and just really overall loves to learn. Wouldn't be able to stick to anything, but it definitely keeps him busy. Good at everything kinda guy; you could ask him about/to do anything, and he'd genuinely have surface level knowledge on it.

Human Google. If you wanted help with your homework, project, or just simple research, he'd be the best guide. And he'd open up a little, too, while doing it because not only does he enjoy learning, but he'd love even more for a chance to yap about what it is he knows/has learned without somebody falling asleep on him mid-sentence😃.

His mom. His mom be trying to listen but bless her heart, she be TIRREEED😫. Like Griffin, honey, you might as well be singing that woman a lullaby, she is out like a light😭💀. But it's okay, he understands, so it's not like he holds a grudge or anything.

I also think the more time he spends with a person, the more "character traits" he picks up. Spent time around Gwen? Now he's cussing up a storm more than usual. Hung with Billy for a little while? He's got that sass on lock now. Had a chat with Finney? He picked up on that little nervous thumb biting thing he has.

It's endearing once you notice it, and he's not doing it on purpose. He just mirrors you because well,,, he likes you and wants you to like him, so subconsciously, he just-

*sees you doing something* *now he's doing it too without missing a beat or noticing himself*

He met Gwen, though, and it was a wrap. They were stuck to each other like glue, besties, 4lyfers, and then met Amy and Vance's younger sis and after that?? Even if he was sheltered, he sure as fuck wouldn't be anymore😹.

I'm sure they'd be running around Denver, wreaking havoc and being little sillies together♡.

RIP Griffin Stagg, you would've loved making slime😔🙏🏽 (he'd probably make a whole collection of different types and textures, maybe even sold 'em for a side-hustle lol).

𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 ��𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐡😌?

I had so much fun writing this even though it took me so long lmao :>. but yeah, little spoiler, I've got more tbp content coming up, most being requests, and then I am slowly making my way down my MASSIVE inbox, so hopefully - in due time - y'all will see more content in general coming from me :).

but, until the time comes, I hope whoever reads this enjoyed it !!/ᐠ^˕^マ!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

anon

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

9,296

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Wild Life Final Stats

Realized I still never made that final summary post of the Wild Life Spreadsheet so here it is!

Any deaths caused by other players utilizing snails, mobs, or the environment is counted as a player kill. If the death wouldn't have occurred without the other player's direct influence, it is counted as a kill. (Impulse's invisible snail) As a blanket rule, any death that resulted in a player gaining a life is counted as a kill, but there are a couple deaths that did not give a life but are still counted as a kill. (Scar's drowning death) Some deaths could be considered "self-inflicted" but occurred because the player accidentally died to their own trap or weapon while fighting someone else, so those deaths are credited to the person they were fighting. (Martyn and Etho's final deaths are credited to Scar and Cleo, but Mumbo's final death is credited as TNT)

I also ultimately decided to count kills made by zombie players as a separate cause of death and the kill is not credited to the player who had the necromancy power. (The only zombie who got any kills was Mumbo during session 7 and it was always while he was Cleo's zombie, so if you want you can mentally add five kills to Cleo's kill count, I just decided to count it separately for clarity here)

Same rules as above for what counts as a kill, but please let me know if you notice any discrepancies between the cause of death sheet and kills per player sheet! This chart counts Mumbo's kills as a living player and a zombie henchman separately!

Zombie deaths are not counted for these charts! Only the deaths of living players!

Zombie deaths include zombies being dispelled when the wildcard faded during the finale!

This chart is super not fact-checked so take this one with a grain of salt. I saw another post breaking down Wild Card death stats but I unfortunately couldn't find it while I was polishing the spreadsheet up. Feel free to let me know if any corrections need to be made!

I made a full post explaining how these scores were calculated! In that post I say I'm open to any questions about how specifically the scores were calculated. However, it has in fact been a month and I don't really remember my exact reasoning but I'll do my best to reverse engineer my own work if anyone wants to know. Scores do not include the finale trivia but maybe in the future.

Thank you to everyone who utilized the spreadsheet and left comments! I have a lot of fun doing these and hope to do another one for the next season! (knock on wood). If you find any interesting stats or charts in the sheet feel free to post them on your own blog, just please tag and credit me! If you have ideas for other stats to track or charts to make feel free to send me an ask!

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

a couple of guys have been throwing around doc being ace in the tags of my recent post so naturally. i have thoughts. allow me to subject you to them:

i agree. that man is asexual. clara is also asexual. i would think both of them are a little bit bi as well!

not that either of them think too hard about it though. if you ask them they would say they are 100% attracted to the opposite sex and for the most part that's true. but doc totally had some sort of vaguely homosexual rivalry with another scientist while working on the manhattan project and clara probably had a crush on another girl when she was little. also the 1980s has a lot more Gender than the century previous so once the shock of women wearing pants wears off she's going to be like hold on a sec.... they're kinda cooking in this century

(clara would not use those words in that order fs but that's the only way i can convey that lmao)

none of them would look into those experiences. they'd just assume oh every girl thought this one specific other girl was like super pretty and smart and cool growing up. every scientist has an infuriatingly stubborn yet brilliant and objectively good-looking rival in the same department. that's just how it is!

bisexual tangent over. back to asexualism

doc and clara are more the "enjoy each other's company" couple than anything like sure they'll kiss or whatever and that's nice but they'll have infinitely more fun talking about their interests

they'd probably only get schnasty because they know that's just what couples are meant to do. like they'll try it once and they'll agree it was a solid 7/10 experience but do you know what's a guaranteed 10/10 every time? 49th reread of journey to the centre of the earth!! woohoo!!

which brings me. to the real point of this post. where did jules and verne come from.

as an ace doclara truther i initially subscribed to the "they travelled in time to adopt a couple of orphans who were otherwise going to die and be lost to time" bc it's cute and it's like how doc saved clara so now they're in love. but the more i thought about it i was like hold on. something's up here

because doc spent 10 years building that train so the first thing he'd want to do with it (besides going into the future to get parts for it to fly) is return to let marty know he's alright right. like in the movie sure he picked up einie first but that's bc that's einie

so unless those boys are freshly picked up off the great depression streets logically i do not think that can be the case. as nice as this headcanon is

so my next thought was like ok. we can still make this adoption thing work. maybe these orphans have naturally occurred in the 1880s (<- certainly one of the string of words i have made)

but we know doc. sure he's had his moments of flipping the bird to the space-time continuum but in general he tries his best to keep it intact i think

taking up a blacksmithing job? minor improvements to the lives of the citizens of hill valley. probably not going to cause anything major. also he needs money. marrying a schoolteacher? she was going to fall off a cliff and die originally so it's not like that's going to make anything worse. (although now a lot more kids are literate in this timeline so something is definitely different. but also what is she gonna do, not teach?)

but adopting two kids without knowing their fates beforehand.... risky business. who knows who those two are supposed to be. and it's not like they can pick up two kids who they know for sure would probably pass without their intervention bc doc is a doc from the future but he's not THAT kind of doc from the future.

so with that said. begrudgingly. i think jules and verne are biologically theirs. unfortunate for the adoption headcanons but that's the only logical way i can see it

not to say the adoption headcanons are wrong and bad i just don't know how they could obtain two children without worrying about messing things up. so if anyone has any ideas how please enlighten me

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 22

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Your wonderful vacation in the Dreaming came to an end as Morpheus bestowed gifts and boundless love. Upon arriving at Cape Kennedy, you learned that Lyta's child had already been born. Subtle changes had occurred in everyone's lives, unexpected transformations altering their paths forever. You, on the other hand, faced a tumultuous return to work, grappling with severe physical fatigue back in London.

Author's note: Hello! I hope you guys have been well. Here's another lengthy update for you. I recently realized that in the previous chapter, the name the Reader gave to the deer—Astra—is the same as the little girl Johanna tried to save and lost. This was initially coincidental, as I couldn't recall her name at all. However, it sparked a nice idea that I'll explain towards the end of the story. I didn't want to leave anything to chance, and since the name felt fitting, changing it seemed inappropriate considering all the research I put into it. Instead, I've found a clever way to explain this "glitch" in the narrative. It's not something huge plot-wise, just something that will justify the repeated name.

Now, this chapter delves deeper into the lore of Cape Kennedy's side characters, all of which I've created myself. I wanted to explore a few specific aspects here, as things might become a bit chaotic/dramatic in the next update. I need to ensure I've covered everything thoroughly.

Also, I'm currently revising the first chapters, improving the wording and adding some enrichment. While the story itself will remain unchanged, I aim to make it sound consistent and cohesive from start to finish. After returning to writing in 2022, I've dedicated time to studying and practicing, which has influenced the story's progression. It's hard to believe this fic will be two years old in December!

(The upgraded chapters haven't been uploaded yet. I'll edit each one as soon as they're prepared and ready for posting.)

Gazing at the magnificent Dreaming scenery before you, you heaved a sigh of displeasure. You were fully prepared—though not emotionally ready—to return to Cape Kennedy and depart from the enchanting realm of dreams.

It was absurd, really. You could visit Morpheus's domain every night in your dreams, and he'd even invited you to return physically anytime in the future. There was no logical reason for such despondency; this wasn't a permanent goodbye, after all.

Yet, as you contemplated going back to your normal life, a nagging feeling deep in your consciousness reminded you of the Dreaming's importance to your soul. Leaving it behind felt like bidding farewell to the most beautiful vacation of your life, your heart already aching for it before you'd even left.

Morpheus's arrival heralded your imminent exit from his world. As you turned to greet him, your eyes were drawn to a wooden box nestled in the crook of his right arm. Its intricate design lent it a substantial appearance, adorned with golden decorations reminiscent of your chamber's style and Morpheus' preference.

Curiously, you asked, "What is that?"

He stepped forward, cradling the box in his hands as he examined it. "This is a gift I have prepared for you."

"Another gift? Morpheus, you're truly being too generous."

He smiled, drawing closer to you. "You need only ask, and it shall be yours. All that you long for."

Overcome by a fresh surge of affection for this extraordinary being whom you cherished above all else, you gently cradled his face in your hands and brought your lips to his. The kiss was tender, yet laced with unmistakable determination. "And here I thought nothing could top last night's surprise."

You leaned in for another kiss, finding yourself unable to stop, lost in the moment with the man from whom you could scarcely tear yourself away. Morpheus seemed equally content, returning your kisses with matching fervor until you were both satisfied.

"Do you not you want to see it?" he asked teasingly.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly detached yourself, taking a deep breath. "Yes, of course."

Instead of opening the box himself, he offered it to you expectantly. You took it with extreme care, almost afraid it might slip from your grasp and shatter. As you held it, you were surprised by how light it felt compared to its sturdy exterior. When you unlatched the front lock, a warm pulse of power emanated from it, tingling your fingertips and running down your spine.

You lifted the lid, revealing the contents nestled on a black velvet cushion. Your eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before you: a luminous pearl-white moonflower that glowed like a living lantern, a palm-sized amethyst crystal of the deepest, most mesmerizing purple, a small glass vial filled with sand— its cap tightly sealed with a thin cord, and a golden bangle that looked tailor-made for your wrist, its surface embellished with tiny, star-shaped crystals that glimmered brilliantly in the light. 

"This blossom shall retain its ethereal beauty, forever in bloom, defying the laws of mortality even as it graces the realm of the Waking," he explained. "The amethyst, a stone of grounding, shall grant immediate solace upon your touch."

"What about the sand?”

"This sand, harvested from the very essence of your Dreamland, bears the same properties as that which resides within my pouch. It is a fragment of your dreams made tangible."

Morpheus's sand, granted to you as a gift…?

"Can I really accept this? Your sand is such a vital source of your power."

"Though but a mere fragment, I am confident in your discretion to safeguard it from unworthy hands."

"That goes without saying. I'll guard it with my life."

He raised his hand, gently brushing the box and allowing his fingers to meet yours in the process. "I have placed tokens of my devotion to you in this vessel of memories, eternal artifacts that shall evoke recollections of your stay in this realm."

Morpheus continued to surpass your expectations effortlessly, offering gift after gift without expecting anything in return. His boundless generosity left you feeling humbled and almost insignificant in comparison.

The bangle needed no introduction. Its aesthetic perfectly complemented the starry theme of the Dreaming while matching the bracelet your mother had given you. As you admired it, you eagerly anticipated wearing them together.

"This is beautiful," you whispered, gently closing the box and caressing its ornate surface. "Thank you, Morpheus. This means the world to me."

“Should you wish for anything else, I will provide it for you.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. "There's only one thing I'd love to bring home with me, but that's not allowed."

As you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his cool ones, Morpheus immediately grasped your meaning and responded with a subtle smile. "I shall be with you always, my love." 

“I know.”

"Are you ready, my love?" Morpheus asked gently.

“No.”

His shoulders slumped slightly as he gazed at you with affectionate amusement. "Y/N…"

"Sorry, I'm kidding. Well, sort of. Maybe. Not really. But yes, I am ready."

Clutching the strap of your bag, you awaited Morpheus's magic. He gathered you in his embrace, his forehead gently touching yours as he closed his eyes, yours following suit instinctively. A gust of wind tousled your hair, accompanied by the soft swoosh of rising sand. You sensed your surroundings change, the Dreaming gradually fading into the distance, yet remaining forever tethered to you by an invisible thread.

As you remained motionless with your eyes shut tight, Morpheus called your name in a low, velvety voice. "Y/N."

“Mh?”

"We have arrived in the Waking World."

The familiar scents of Florida's natural environment and the subtle shift in ambient light confirmed your return to Cape Kennedy. Still, you found it difficult to release your hold on him, struggling to accept that the most unforgettable week of your life had come to an end.

It was childish, you reasoned, considering how much work awaited you in your waking life. You weren't truly separating from Morpheus or the Dreaming, but a part of you wondered if you could ever truly balance your existence between these two worlds, or if you were inextricably tied to just your own.

You were a mortal connected to an Endless being, with time's relentless march ever-present. Could you truly hope to make the Dreaming your permanent abode?

His lips grazed your cheek, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. "Do you intend to stand here indefinitely?"

“If I do, will you take me back?”

He tenderly caressed your jawline, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "My love, my heart longs to keep you eternally in my embrace. If only I could yield to such selfishness.”

With a resigned sigh, you finally opened your eyes to meet his countenance. "You could. I wouldn't complain."

He shook his head gently. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Everything." One hand clutched the memory box, while the other trailed along his chest, settling on his covered collarbones. "But I understand you have vital duties, as do I with my own responsibilities."

"Thank you, Y/N, for allowing me to bring you into my realm. Your devotion for the Dreaming is immeasurable, I cherish it with all that I am."

"The Dreaming is you," you said with a smile. "How could I not adore it?"

Every word you spoke to him, so honest and filled with humanity's most precious light, never failed to make him—the Lord of Dreams, an ever-darker creature—happier than he ever thought he deserved to be.

"I must leave you now, my love. Take heart, for I will seek you in your dreams.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to your side. "I love you, Morpheus. You know that, don't you?"

"I do. And my love for you, my dear, transcends the very fabric of existence, encompassing all realms, both dreamt and waking."

He pulled you close for one last, lingering kiss before reluctantly letting you go.

"Ever the poet," you remarked with a grin. "Just one of the countless things I like about you."

"Are you attempting to keep me here with you?"

“Is it working?”

He let out a soft chuckle. "I am afraid not. But wherever you go, I will follow."

"That's enough, I suppose."

For a moment longer, you looked deeply into each other's eyes as a wordless understanding passed between you. Then, Morpheus's sand reappeared, rising from the ground at his feet and gradually swirling around his form. You stepped back, giving his powers room to work, as a cloud of grains swallowed him completely. In an instant, the sand twirled and dissipated, leaving no trace of Morpheus as he vanished back to his realm.

You exhaled, feeling a complex blend of satisfaction and wistful melancholy.

Hal's B&B stood just a few feet away. As you retrieved your phone from your bag and powered it on, you were astonished to find that barely a few hours had passed since leaving the hotel in Georgia. Morpheus had mentioned that time flowed differently in the Dreaming, but it was still mind-boggling to realize you'd spent seven days in his company, only to essentially travel back in time.

With a final loving glance at the box, you carefully tucked it into your bag and set off. The house's door stood unlocked, and as you entered, Hal's voice greeted you warmly as soon as you crossed the threshold.

"Welcome back!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. "How was the Cereal Convention? I heard it was brimming with fascinating events."

If only he knew the mayhem you had witnessed there. "Fascinating? That doesn't even begin to describe it.".

You wondered if the news had reported anything about the man who had taken his own life in the car, or if they had even remotely mentioned the rest of the cult, now cursed by Morpheus to a lifetime of regrets.

"I bet," he said mischievously. "Rose told me you got quite a pleasant surprise."

You blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Come now, no need to be coy, sweetheart. You know secrets don't stay hidden for long in this house."

You realized Rose must have concocted a story to account for your absence. Whatever tale she had spun, you found yourself at a loss for how to navigate this unexpected situation. 

“Well…”

"Your boyfriend showed up unexpectedly to pick you up, didn’t he? Now that's what I call romantic!"

Oh.

You had to admit, that wasn't entirely inaccurate. "You've caught me red-handed."

He graciously helped you remove your jacket as you clutched your bag tightly, guarding it as if it contained your most precious possessions, which couldn't be nearer to the truth.

"No wonder you look radiant. I'd recognize that glow anywhere."

"What can I say? He has a flair for dramatic appearances."

As you entered the dining room, you found only Chantal and Zelda at the table, their brunch plates cleared. An unusual hush blanketed the house, a stark departure from its typical bustling energy.

“Hey girls.”

“Good morning, Y/N,” Chantal replied cordially. "Zelda says hello as well."

"Where's everyone else? Have they not risen yet?"

Hal joined them, gesturing invitingly towards an empty chair. "Ah, you've missed quite a bit. You won't believe what's happened."

Taking a seat beside him at the table, you narrowed your eyes. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"No, no, quite the opposite. You see... it's about Lyta; she's given birth."

Your jaw dropped so suddenly that you half-expected it to clatter onto the floor. How could Lyta have delivered her baby so quickly? Could her time with her husband in the Dreaming have stretched longer, similar to your own experience with the King of Dreams?

“What…?”

"I know. Crazy, right? Did you even know she was pregnant? I don't think Rose ever noticed either."

"I didn't," you replied. "It's generally not something you easily miss... though, I've read about cryptic pregnancies before.”

"Yes, but can a belly grow that big overnight? It wouldn't be the strangest thing I've seen lately, but…"

You pursed your lips, wracking your brain for a plausible explanation for such an extraordinary occurrence. Yet, try as you might, no rational justification presented itself.

"Rose and Jed accompanied Barbie and Ken to the hospital," Chantal interjected.

"We're heading there in a couple of hours,” Hal said. “Are you free? You're welcome to come with us."

You agreed without hesitation. "Absolutely. I've got plenty of time before my next appointment with Andrew, so I'm in."

"Great! We're all eager to meet the little one."

Despite the maelstrom of thoughts in your mind, you chose to set aside your confusion. There was little point in fixating on inexplicable events, especially since you'd come to understand that the Dreaming's magic and uniqueness often transcended conventional reasoning.

Eager to keep your mind occupied, you insisted on helping Hal with the cleaning, brushing aside his protests. After your ample rest, staying active appealed to you more than idling about in the living room. As he washed the dishes, you meticulously dried the tableware and set everything neatly in its place. Hal hummed random songs intermittently, his voice filling the kitchen with cheerfulness and positivity.

"So, this boyfriend of yours. Does he travel often?" Hal inquired, passing you a freshly washed glass.

"Mm, you could say he's practically omnipresent," you replied with a knowing smile.

"He must have quite an important job," Hal observed, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

"It's vital, indeed. His work shapes the very fabric of our existence."

Realizing you had inadvertently revealed more than intended, you bit your tongue. Fortunately, Hal didn't seem inclined to pry further.

"I admire people like that. Those who can truly change the world."

"You have that power too, in your own way."

"I'm not so sure about that," Hal replied modestly. "Though I must admit, I'm finally considering selling this place."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You're going to sell your grandmother's house?"

Hal chuckled. "I've been thinking; dreams can really change your perspective. No matter how bizarre they get."

You gave his upper arm a friendly squeeze. "Whatever path you choose, I'm confident it'll be the right one for you."

"I haven't made any final decisions yet, but I'm now open to giving my career a real shot. Who knows? Maybe next year you'll hear my name as the greatest Broadway performer of all time."

"I can absolutely see that happening. You shine on stage, Hal. I'm sure I've mentioned that before."

The conversation flowed naturally, weaving through various topics, from Hal's future aspirations to your creative pursuits and life in London. Amidst the discussion, he brought up the unusual dream experience that he and the others had collectively undergone, featuring Rose and the Vortex in action. Remarkably, they all vividly recalled the events leading up to Morpheus's attempt to halt Rose's power, but none of them could adequately describe or explain why—or how—this dream had manifested for all of them at once.

His willingness to openly discuss the event with you, regardless of your apparent status as an outsider and his unawareness of your actual involvement, left you astounded. Although he intentionally kept his descriptions vague, they unanimously agreed that Rose had been rather special since her arrival. 

You refrained from confirming or denying it. While the truth was irrefutable, you were reluctant to raise further questions about a girl who had already endured so much on her own.

The dream had left an indelible mark on each of them, sparking a self-reflection and personal development. Apparently, cracks had begun to show in Barbie and Ken's relationship, and Hal was confident it was only a matter of time before it crumbled completely. This revelation didn't surprise you, as you'd harbored reservations about Ken from your very first encounter.

As the late morning wore on, you carved out a private moment in your room. Seated on the bed, you gazed at Morpheus's gifts, a broad smile illuminating your face and a bright sparkle dancing in your eyes. You picked up the golden bangle, turning it over in your hands to look at its minimalist design. Despite its simplicity, it was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry you'd ever seen, with its diamond-like stars twinkling brilliantly in the sunlight. As you slipped it onto your wrist, you marveled at its perfect fit, neither too loose nor too tight. It sat snugly against your skin, complementing your mother's leafy bracelet perfectly, as if it were crafted specifically for this pairing. Considering Morpheus's particular attention to detail regarding your appearance, you realized that this harmonious combination was no accident, but rather a deliberate choice on his part.

You missed him deeply, craving his presence with an intensity that eclipsed even your need for breath. It was natural, given that you had been virtually inseparable during your time together, except for the brief absences he was compelled to make. 

Still, you found yourself contemplating your relationship from a new angle, considering the prospect of deepening your bond with him. Was it even possible for a mortal to unite in marriage with an Endless?

Theoretically, given the universal rule that barred Nada from being his lover, you might conclude the answer was no.  Nevertheless, Morpheus had speculated that your Goddess DNA could have shielded you from the dreadful fate his ex had endured as punishment for her transgression.

Ruminating on the matter excessively would only result in mental fatigue.

Shortly thereafter, you journeyed to the hospital with Hal, Chantal, and Zelda, feeling strangely fidgety since leaving the house. You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden unease, yet you were convinced it wasn't tied to any specific ill omen. There was simply an odd, indecipherable voice in the recesses of your mind, somehow linked to Lyta and the newborn child. You sensed that the baby's unusual conception, coupled with the Dreaming's essence flowing through its small body, had heightened your innate sensitivity, likely stemming from your deep affinity with Morpheus's realm and the Dream King himself.

Upon arrival, you found Rose and Jed already visiting Lyta and her newborn son, while Barbie and Ken waited patiently in the lobby for their turn. Barbie's characteristic cheerfulness and signature smile masked an entirely different story lurking behind her eyes. Ken appeared oblivious to her distress, his nonchalant demeanor indicating either genuine ignorance or—more likely—a callous disregard for her feelings.

Men like him were utterly contemptible, nothing more than walking deceptions.

The door to Lyta's room creaked open, prompting Barbie to spring to her feet and stride forward, Ken trailing behind. Rose and Jed emerged from around the corner, looking refreshed; their nightmarish ordeals hadn't been enough to break their spirits.

“My turn!” Barbie chirped, her laughter bubbling up.

"Prepare yourself," Rose noted with a smile. "He's pretty cute."

Ken exchanged a playful, masculine handshake and fist bump with Jed. “Oh, we are ready.”

From your seated position, you caught a glimpse of Barbie vanishing around the corner. Her voice dropped drastically, taking on a serious and resentful tone. “Uh, it’s one at a time.”

Ken's face fell, and you couldn't suppress a flicker of satisfaction. Bravo, Barbie!

“Wha… Oh, come on. Babe! Baby, it was just a dream!”

Glancing at Hal, you noticed he was equally captivated by the unfolding drama. "See? I told you," he whispered.

"Do I really want to know what he's referring to?" You asked.

"Oh, that he was caught being literally blown by another woman in his car? No, I don't think you want to know."

Your jaw clenched instantly. "Well, I'll be damned."

Chantal and Zelda, as composed as ever, exuded the aura of gothic countesses in their distinctive black dresses and veils. You'd grown accustomed to their dark appearance, finding them both incredibly beautiful and sophisticated.

Rose and Jed joined you in the waiting room, the girl’s eyes meeting yours with a silent understanding.

“How are they doing?” Hal queried, adjusting his position in the chair.

“Great,” she answered. “The hospital’s releasing them tonight and then we’ll fly home tomorrow.”

“Oh, so soon?” Chantal exclaimed.

Indeed, it felt as if no time had passed since you first met Rose. You'd grown so attached to her that it seemed you'd known her for years, not mere days.

“To New Brunswick,” Hal concluded. “How far is that from New York?”

“Mm, less than an hour. Why?”

“I don’t know, I had this dream last night and now I’m thinking, what if I sell the house and move back?”

Evidently, Hal's indecision about his future plans had dissipated, and his mind was now set on a clear course of action.

Rose's eyes lit up with delight, while Zelda and Chantal exchanged a meaningful look. Words were superfluous between them; Zelda's face, though usually expressionless except for her shy smile, conveyed all her companion needed to know with subtle nuances that only Chantal could interpret.

“We’ll buy the house,” she declared.

A collective gasp of shock rippled through those present, with Hal himself rendered speechless by such an unexpected announcement. The initial bewilderment quickly gave way to joyful smiles as everyone recognized how perfectly all the pieces were falling into place.

Your heart swelled with joy as you beheld the radiant expressions adorning the faces around you, a sight that filled you with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

As time wore on, Hal, Chantal, and Zelda took turns visiting Lyta and her unnamed newborn. Barbie's despondency had resurfaced, even as she tried to hide it from the others. Ken persistently badgered her to accept that he meant no harm, but any self-respecting woman would banish a man who dreamed of another straight to Lucifer's hell.

As you approached the vending machine for a drink, Rose excused herself and followed, clearly seeking a private conversation out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Hey.”

"Hey," you answered with a warm smile. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. I'm still a bit shaken when I think about everything that happened, but... Jed's here with me. That's all that matters."

"He's adorable, by the way," you commented.

"You should've seen him when he was five."

You cracked open your favorite caffeinated beverage, offering Rose one as well. She declined with a shake of her head, her eyes fixed on her feet, revealing a nervousness about what she wanted to say.

When she remained silent, you broke the awkward moment. "Thank you for covering for me," you said gratefully. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I figured they'd ask where you went. I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so."

"I must say, you're quite talented when it comes to coming up with excuses on the spot."

Rose laughed softly.  "It wasn't easy. I also had to tell them Gilbert returned to his country due to an "urgent family matter."”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

You leaned against the vending machine, sipping your drink as another silence settled between you. Rose crossed her arms, shifting restlessly with her foot—an anxious tic that only accentuated her growing discomfort.

You sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Rose, it's okay. Whatever you want to ask me, go ahead."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

You shook your head reassuringly. "It's fine, really. I imagine you have quite a few questions."

"I hope I'm not overstepping, but... is there something going on between you and Lord Morpheus?"

While the question didn't catch you off guard, you considered your options. You could have lied, keeping your relationship with the Endless private and shielding your love from potential judgment. Rose had likely witnessed only the darkness surrounding the Lord of Dreams, unaware of the heart of gold it concealed; a heart heavily scarred from suffering and betrayal.

Ultimately, you decided against it.

A faint smile played on your lips. "Yes, Rose. We are together."

"Oh. Wow, I... I had a feeling, but..."

"You didn't want to jump to conclusions."

“Yeah.”She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s just… there's so much I don't understand. When Dream said Jed and I are ‘Children of the Endless’, what did he even mean?"

How could you explain it to her, considering her great-grandfather was one of the cruelest entities in the entire universe, willing to callously manipulate their own sibling and any mortal they came across?

"Is it related to the golden-eyed man Unity saw in her dreams?"

"I'm afraid I can't provide a definitive answer to that," you confessed, feigning ignorance. "In a way, you and your brother are very special, Rose. That’s all I know.”

She mulled over your words, clearly unsatisfied with the explanation, yet accepting it as sufficient for her current needs.

"He's not… really that bad, is he? Morpheus."

“No. He’s not.”

"I know he didn't really want to kill me. I was damaging his world without even knowing what I was doing. It was all my fault to begin with."

You gently touched her elbow, your hand warm against her skin. "You didn't ask to become a Vortex, it was just an unexpected twist of fate you didn't deserve."

"Yes, but I still hurt my friends. Lyta, Hector... even Jed, Hal, everyone around me."

Your hand slid along her wrist as you took her hand in yours. "It was the Vortex. Not you."

"But I was the Vortex. When Dream took Hector, I hated him. I thought he was a monster. Lyta was suffering, and I blamed him for it."

“And now?”

She hesitated, contemplating her response. "Now… I don't, really. It was harsh, but I was the one who set all this in motion. He did what he had to, I guess."

Your smile widened. “Rose…”

"And Unity," she continued. "She gave her life just to save me."

The pain she endured defied consolation, and a persistent guilt would likely shadow her for the foreseeable future.

"She was happy, you know," you revealed. "And very proud of you."

“Unity…?”

"I won't pretend to understand what you're feeling right now. The trauma you've endured is not something that can be easily erased. But I can tell you this: your great-grandmother is at peace.She made her sacrifice for you without any regrets.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Having weathered numerous losses throughout her life, Rose had honed the ability to remain resilient in most situations, a strength she maintained not only for herself but also for those she held dear.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her voice quivered, and you pulled her into a comforting hug. She gratefully melted into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth she could no longer receive from her mother's arms.

“You’re welcome, Rosie.”

Lyta's baby was a true delight, innocent and tiny, with cheeks so soft they resembled the most delicate confection. You could feel the Dreaming's traces on the infant, yet to anyone else, he appeared perfectly human.  The moment you drew closer, his little hand instinctively grasped your finger, awakening an unexpected maternal, protective instinct in you. Lyta simply smiled, observing how you'd make a wonderful mother someday, a comment you met with a nervous laugh.

The strange gut discomfort you felt vanished as soon as you left the hospital. You had the impression that something about Lyta was not ordinary, but you couldn't quite discern what it meant. Perhaps it was a consequence of your travel between the Dreaming and the Waking World, causing unusual perceptions as you readjusted.

That evening, Lyta and her newborn son were discharged as expected. While Hal finalized the house sale with Chantal and Zelda, you joined the group for a pleasant conversation in the living room, idly toying with your new bracelet as you slid it up and down your wrist. You thoroughly enjoyed your time at the B&B, appreciating the company of wonderful people (with one notable exception) who helped brighten Lyta's mood. The loss of her husband had left an indelible mark, and you admired how everyone tactfully avoided the sensitive subject, refraining from asking questions about the baby's father.

Barbie looked somewhat distracted, her face less vibrant than usual, a subtle alteration that seemed to go unnoticed. She maintained a facade of joy and vivacity, barely interacting with Ken, who sat uncomfortably close to you on the couch. You felt urged to speak with her, but that would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

Despite the tragedies and misadventures he'd faced, Jed was an incredibly adaptable and optimistic kid. His face beamed with smiles, clearly overjoyed at being reunited with his beloved sister. At some point in the evening, you engaged in an enthusiastic discussion with him about popular superhero movies and comics. Rose playfully teased Jed about how, under Gault's influence, he had impersonated a Marvel-esque version of The Sandman. Her lighthearted comment drew genuine laughter from both of you, and Jed rolled his eyes, insisting he had been incredibly cool and powerful in that form.

As night fell, everyone retired to their rooms. Lyta excused herself first, cradling her precious newborn away from the adoring eyes. Rose followed shortly after, and Jed was offered the vacant attic room, formerly Fiddler's Green's quarters. 

Sliding beneath the covers of a bed that wasn't the grand canopy in the Dreaming felt oddly unfamiliar to you. You longed for the soft caress of your enchanted nightgown, the mesmerizing sparkle of crystals, and the soothing ebb and flow of gradient waves on the walls. It seemed paradoxical to long for a place you visited nightly, yet a strange void persisted inside you, like an emptiness you couldn't quite articulate.

With heavy eyelids, you succumbed to slumber, hoping to find Morpheus awaiting your return in the realm of dreams.

You felt weightless, adrift in an ocean of billowing fabrics that obscured the path ahead. Wandering without direction, you pressed forward into the unknown. A distant cry pierced the air, beckoning you closer. As you continued, the fabrics parted, revealing a crib in the distance. The surroundings were hazy and barren, bathed in an ethereal, blue glow.

The more you walked, the farther the crib seemed to get. No matter how hard you tried to reach it, it was as if you were walking on an infinite treadmill. The child inside was whimpering, pleading for you to arrive. 

You pressed on, yet the distance remained unchanged. Anxiety constricted your chest, making it hard to breathe, despite the absence of any visible threat. 

Then the crib began to fade, enveloped by a soft, nebula-like cloud, vanishing into nothingness. You were left uncertain about what you had witnessed, wondering if the baby represented Lyta's son or simply acted as a subconscious symbol; perhaps indicating fresh starts and possibilities. 

Unable to decipher its significance, you endeavored to interpret the dream's significance to no avail. As the vision continued, your consciousness gradually reasserted itself, and you immediately transitioned into an entirely new dreamscape.

You stood in an expansive, surreal forest where trees spiraled upward like great pillars, their trunks woven from shimmering threads of silver and dark purple. The sky above pulsed with colors you'd never seen before—streaks of emerald, amethyst, and soft coral flowing and colliding like auroras. A gentle mist blanketed the forest ground, and as you moved, flowers bloomed beneath your feet. With each step, you ventured deeper into the woods, where strange, beautiful creatures drifted past in the mist, unusual animals with translucent bodies and magical eyes. You felt at peace now, as if this place knew you, welcomed you.

Whatever the crib represented, it couldn't be anything sinister.

The fog lifted, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed a figure nearby. From the shadows between the trees, Morpheus emerged, his presence both distinct and seamlessly integrated into the scenery. Clad in black that melded with the night's darkness, he seemed to carry the very stars in his eyes and attire. As he approached, the dream's colors intensified, responding to him like a lover's touch.

Your breath itched as he stopped before you, his gaze soft yet filled with an intensity that only Morpheus could hold. You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing his cool hand. He took it gently, as though grazing something precious. The bracelet he gifted you gleamed golden alongside your mother's cuff. 

"Your dreams grow more beautiful with each passing night, in ever more resplendent tapestries," he murmured, his voice resonating through the forest.

A smile lit your face, and he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you to bring you into his loving casing. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The dreamscape reacted again, a gentle breeze sweeping through the trees, sending petals into a soft dance around you.

"Every time I'm with you, I feel complete," you whispered.

Morpheus tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as his eyes softened with a tenderness that was becoming more frequent. "Then let this moment last for as long as you're asleep," he said, his lips meeting yours in a kiss as warm and infinite as the dream itself. 

You cuddled against him, sinking into the tranquility and depth of your connection, as the environment continued to pulse with revitalizing energy. 

As you parted, he held your face in his hands, his cerulean irises tracing your every feature as though etching this moment into his memory. "I am bound to you, in dreams and beyond," he uttered genty. "No place, nor time, can keep me from finding you."

"Never cease seeking me. Please."

"Never, my love. And you, forever call upon my name, through the realms of fantasy and waking.”

It was rather striking to reflect on how Rose and Lyta had arrived in Cape Kennedy as a pair and were now departing the B&B as a quartet, a poignant example of dreams' transformative power. Their journey exemplified how the seemingly impossible can indeed materialize into reality.

Hal assured he would join them once everything was properly settled and his belongings were packed, ready for the grand opening of a new live show; the next chapter of his life.

While you couldn't reveal to Rose the book she'd one day write, you encouraged her to pursue graduate school, confident in her potential for extraordinary accomplishments. Your time together had been brief, yet saying goodbye to her tugged at your heartstrings. What had begun as a simple work collaboration in Florida had flourished into something far more meaningful; you'd cultivated new friendships that you hoped would stand the test of time, enduring long after this unexpected adventure.

In the blink of an eye, the house suddenly felt much emptier.

Throughout the day, you noticed Barbie's conspicuous absence from the common areas, rarely catching a glimpse of her around the house. Ken mentioned that Barbie was feeling unwell and had decided to recuperate in their room. The situation raised suspicion, especially since Ken seemed more intent on hovering around you in the kitchen, attempting to engage you in unwelcome conversation. Oblivious to your signals, he disregarded your curt responses and clearly disinterested tone, persisting in his efforts at dialogue.

"You know, I was thinking, you haven't seen much of Cape Kennedy, have you? I could take you on a tour one of these days."

You froze with your cup of tea suspended midair, staring blankly at him as Hal cleared his throat.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have work commitments," you replied, your tone icy.

"Ah, yes, of course. But maybe I could, you know, offer you a ride after dinner one evening?"

You felt utterly disgusted, the tea suddenly losing its flavor in your mouth. Ken's partner was confined to their room, claiming to be ill. But here he was, attempting to flirt with you behind Barbie's back.

His behavior was reprehensible. You abandoned your drink, pouring it down the sink and hastily rinsing the mug.

"Oh! What about dining out? I know a lovely restaurant by the beach."

Ugh.

You considered answering with more excuses to make him desist, but you knew such tactics wouldn't deter a man like him. Ultimately, you decided that a razor-sharp response was your only way out.

"Look, I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate your persistence. And believe me, he's not the forgiving type."

Ken's grin faltered, though he still tried to maintain his charm. "I was just—"

"You're asking me out while your girl is sick upstairs. How considerate of you."

Hal, clearly intrigued by the unfolding scene, became more attentive, his eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You may be accustomed to women fawning over you, but let me be crystal clear: I wouldn't consider someone like you even if you were the last man on Earth."

Ken stood frozen, his smile fixed and hollow, utterly speechless. He seemed incapable of formulating any coherent sentence, caught off guard by your blunt rejection.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," you said, turning on your heel and striding away.

Without looking back, you left Ken to contemplate your rebuff as you climbed the stairs, the kitchen falling into a telling hush. There was only one pressing matter you wanted to address now: Barbie. If Ken was failing to provide the care and support she needed, perhaps a friendly visit could lift her spirits more effectively than her inconsiderate partner could.

You recognized that Ken's intentions weren't specifically malicious, but his casual fantasizing about other women and viewing dates outside his relationship as normal proved he was incapable of full commitment. How Barbie had managed to tolerate him for so long was incomprehensible, but you couldn't help admiring her patience.

You paused before her room, knocking softly a few times, and waited for a response that never came. Though you surmised she might be asleep, an intuition whispered otherwise.

"Barbie?" you called gently. "It's Y/N. Are you all right in there?"

Soft footsteps padded across the floor, followed by the click of the door's lock. As it swung open, Barbie showed up, looking visibly drained. Her face, devoid of its usual makeup, and her refined clothes replaced by simple pajamas, presented a notable difference from her typical polished appearance.

“Hey!”

Her forced glee hit you right in the chest, totally unconvincing, with puffy eyes revealing recent tears.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" You inquired again.

"Yeah! It's just a headache. Nothing serious!"

You exhaled softly, your brow furrowing with concern. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, really! I just need some rest," she insisted with another artificial grin, her voice wavering slightly.

"Barbie, I know I'm still relatively new to you, and you might not feel comfortable opening up to me. But if you need anything at all, even just a listening ear, I'm here for you."

She looked at you in silence, her veneer of cheerfulness intact but slowly crumbling. Her smile faded, lips curving downward as her head dropped in defeat. “Would you like to come in?”

Relieved, you nodded. "If I may."

“Sure.”

She stepped aside, inviting you in. As you entered, the door closed behind you, cocooning the two of you in privacy. Barbie walked to the rumpled bed and sat down, patting the spot in front of her with the familiarity of an old friend at a sleepover. On one of the nightstands, an empty mug stood sentinel beside a few untouched, stale cookies.

"I hope I didn't disturb you," you said, settling onto the mattress.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping at all.”

"What's wrong? I promise you, anything you say will remain confidential."

Barbie let out a chuckle that quickly morphed into a sniffle. "I feel like I can't confide in anyone. People would think I’m silly for even considering this."

You moved forward, tentatively placing your hand on hers. "It can't be foolish if it's keeping you locked into your room."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes welling up as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Have you ever felt like you've lost something important, something that doesn't even exist?"

“What do you mean?”

She released a desperate laugh, a hysterical sound that bore no resemblance to genuine mirth. "I... I used to have this beautiful dream. I had many incredible friends, talking animals that cared for and protected me. Can you imagine?”

You offered an encouraging smile, listening attentively.

"My closest companion was Martin Tenbones, a creature resembling a giant dog... or whatever he was meant to be. You probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Not at all. I'm intrigued and would love to hear more about your dream world," you replied warmly.

"It's hard to put into words. It wasn't just a fantasy, it felt like another life. A place where I could be more than just 'Barbie', but finally myself."

"You're speaking about it in the past tense..."

Her tears flowed more freely. "I’m afraid I can’t dream about it anymore."

Oh…

"Last night, I had no dreams. I know it may not seem like a big deal, but I can tell that something has severed my connection to that world.”

Having witnessed your own dream beach reduced to an arid desert, you deeply empathized with Barbie's attachment to her personal subconscious place. Yet, you were fortunate to be with the Lord of Dreams, who could easily restore it to its original splendor, perhaps even enhance its beauty. Morpheus guided you through the Vortex's perils, extracting you from the Dreaming before your link to it could be irreparably damaged.

“I had a mission, something very important to do. And now I’m lost.”

“Barbie…”

"Ken wouldn't understand," she said with a hiccup. "He never does."

You squeezed her hand comfortingly, warmth spreading between your palms.

"I'm sorry. I told you this would sound stupid."

"Well, it's not," you replied with conviction. "As someone who understands the significance of dreams, I can tell you that your sadness is completely justified."

“Really…?”

"Yes. And please, forgive my frankness, but what do you see in a man like Ken?"

Her lower lip quivered as she wiped away her tears. "Honestly, I don't even know anymore. I thought we were perfect together, as ‘cliché as it can be, given our names."

You shrugged. "Names are just names. I doubt that's why you chose him."

"No. He made me feel special, loved… but I fear that was only a beautiful fairy tale. I knew he enjoyed flirting, but this? It’s just too much for me."

You hesitated to disclose Ken's invitation, fearing it would only exacerbate her distress. Considering her fragile emotional state, you couldn't bring yourself to be so insensitive.

"You deserve far better than what he's giving you. I can see that plain as day."

"I don't know. Maybe I set myself up for this. I should have seen the signs."

"We all make mistakes, we're only human. I've certainly had my share of faults in past relationships."

Barbie's lips quirked into a genuine smile, her first in a while. "Do you think I can find someone who'll treat me like a princess in the real world, too?"

"Not a princess. More like the magnificent queen you truly are."

Barbie chortled, and you joined in, feeling the atmosphere in the room finally lighten. "I mean it. You're beautiful, fun, sweet, and open to imaginative possibilities. You don't need a knight in shining armor, real princesses are perfectly capable of writing their own happy endings. Ken doesn't realize how lucky he is."

She swallowed hard, brushing away fresh tears with trembling hands.

"This is your life, Barbie, and I can't tell you what to do. I just hope you'll make the right choice for yourself. That guy's a perfect idiot, too immature to see how amazing you are."

As you stood from the bed, she sighed shakily, drawing her knees to her chest and curling into a ball. "Y/N… can I ask you something absurd?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I'll ever be able to dream again?"

As you opened the door, you glanced back at Barbie's huddled form. Without Morpheus' insight, you couldn't fathom the fate of dreamers severed from the Dreaming by the Vortex. Lacking this crucial knowledge, you found yourself unable to offer a concrete answer to alleviate her sorrow.

Nevertheless, your heart told you there was only one logical, compassionate answer.

“I’m sure of it.”

The moment you left her to her own reflections, Barbie silently opened the bedside table's drawer, rummaging for an object she had discreetly tucked between books. As she retrieved it, she stared at the rose quartz pendant in her hand, now cold and lifeless, its power inexorably spent.

She clutched the pendant to her chest, inhaling deeply before exhaling, her resolve crystallizing.

As your first week in Florida concluded, your collaboration with Andrew grew more intensive with each meeting. More briefs poured in, shaping the project's trajectory for its official launch. When the first prototypes emerged from the workshop, it became clear that additional revisions were necessary. You had to conced that some of your ideas hadn't translated from concept to physical materials as seamlessly as you'd hoped. Undeterred, you offered to refine the sketches, either by incorporating crucial missing elements or starting anew with concepts that seemed to spring effortlessly from your imagination. This time, Andrew's approval wasn't required; his expression alone conveyed that the newly sewn sets embodied the perfection he had envisioned.

Meanwhile, Ken avoided approaching you in the house, hanging his head like a scolded puppy and barely mumbling greetings in the mornings. The atmosphere grew tense as Barbie silently declared her breakup with him by moving out of their shared room and into Rose's and Lyta's vacant chamber. Unsurprisingly, Ken's futile efforts to win Barbie back were nothing short of ridiculous, every excuse failing spectacularly, as if he were hurling himself against an invisible, elastic barrier.

To compound matters, Hal—Ken's sole confidant—had finally summoned the courage to permanently leave. With newfound confidence, he was determined to reunite with Rose and her family, bolstered by his belief that he could make it on Broadway. 

You had to admit, upon seeing Hal fully prepared with his suitcase and giant bag, he would likely be the person you'd miss the most in Cape Kennedy. Although Gilbert had quickly become your favorite (for reasons that now made much more sense), Hal had treated you like a best friend from the instant you emerged from Andrew's vehicle, seeing past your 'celebrity' status and addressing the authentic you with complete naturalness.

Moved by an irrepressible need to repay his kindness, you offered to create the perfect costume for his Dolly persona in the future, a gesture that made Hal's eyes sparkle with pure excitement. The prospect of wearing your design on stage made him feel like a star, and you eagerly anticipated seeing him perform for audiences worldwide.

As the days passed, the house grew more solitary, transforming into an unrecognizable place. Even Barbie decided to depart for New York by the tenth day of your stay, unwilling to endure Ken's omnipresence and compelled to rediscover herself through a new beginning. One by one, they were all witnessing their lives completely turned upside down, for better or worse, by the hand of Destiny. A fate that was clearly set in motion by the Vortex's influence, affecting their Waking World just as much as their dreams.

"Thank you, Y/N. You're a sweetheart," Barbie uttered gently, embracing you on the threshold. Her hug was so tight it nearly squeezed the breath from your lungs. "Let's keep in touch. I'd love to see you again sometime.”

"Absolutely," you said, gently rubbing her back. "Take good care of yourself, Barbie."

“You too.”

As the taxi pulled up, Barbie strode out of the house without a backward glance. Inside, Ken slumped on the couch, his face a portrait of total defeat. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had royally messed up, with no hope of mending the rift he had caused.

Barbie radiated a diva-like aura with her impeccably styled hair, flawless lipstick, and chic sunglasses that gave her the stunning look often adorning magazine covers. She waved at you, Chantal, and Zelda before entering the car, occupying the backseat with the grace of a regal swan. A large pink pendant hung from her neck, one she had never worn before, glistening and glowing under the sun.

In fact, it shimmered more brilliantly than any ordinary gemstone, causing your own necklace to suddenly warm against your skin. Before you could take a closer look, Barbie was gone, leaving her former home behind for an uncertain future.

You shook your head, dismissing that persistent feeling of déjà vu. Your attachment to the Dreaming was simply playing tricks on your mind, causing you to see things that weren't actually there.

Probably.

During your final days in Florida, you toiled relentlessly at Andrew's workshop, scarcely finding time to return to the B&B for rest. Chantal and Zelda seemed now solitary figures, quietly enjoying their drinks in the hushed house. Ken often disappeared into town, presumably in pursuit of a new conquest to seek solace in new companionship. Yet they looked unperturbed, their sweet smiles ever-present and nary a complaint voiced. 

While they genuinely missed their friends, Chantal and Zelda were self-sufficient women who found complete contentment in each other's company.

On the eve of your return to London, you had another vivid dream. While the recurring image of a newborn crying in an empty, bluish space persisted, your nightly visits to the Dreaming were becoming increasingly lifelike.

Morpheus accompanied you on most of your explorations, walking beside you or standing amidst the evocative landscapes of his realm. He always welcomed you with the warmest expression the Lord of Dreams could muster, his subtle smiles illuminating his face at your arrival.

After much hesitation, you finally broached the subject with Morpheus about Barbie and how the Vortex had removed her from the Dreaming. 

"Is there anything you can do to help her?"

Morpheus shook his head, giving you a thoughtful but firm response, rooted in his views on the purpose and temporality of dreams. “Each dream has its time, its arc, and its end. Her connection to The Land was severed as part of a larger design, one that is beyond any individual's desires, even mine."

Noticing your crestfallen countenance, he elaborated. “Dreams are both gifts and lessons, my love. They are there to guide mortals, but they must also be let go when their purpose is fulfilled. To restore it now would be to disrupt the path she must walk."

"So, she's unable to return to her dreams?"

"One day, perhaps. A dream is alive only when it meets the dreamer’s true need."

You averted your gaze, allowing his words to settle in your mind. After a moment, you turned back to him, your eyes glistening with emotion. "If I were severed from this world and from you, it would be unbearable. I can't imagine my life without the Dreaming, I would probably die."

Your words deeply moved him, though he tried to conceal it behind his characteristic gravitas. "You would not be disconnected from me, my love. Not truly. No matter the forces at play, I told you I would always find you, in dreams or beyond them."

He reached out to touch your face, offering comfort and promise, acknowledging your compassion and worries without dismissing them. "If ever such a fate were threatened, I would bend the realms themselves to keep you close."

Your smile returned as your fingers toyed with the lapels of his coat. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Even the King of Dreams is not immune to the fear of loss," he admitted. "And you possess a unique quality that no other mortal will ever match."

"Are you implying that the Dreaming would suffer without me?"

"Not only the Dreaming. I am its ruler, yet above all, I am a being irrevocably bound to your heart."

That very heart raced with exhilaration, sending waves of warmth cascading through your body like a gentle fireworks display.

"You’re so sweet,” you expressed.

“Sweet?”

You tilted your head. "I know you're all powerful and mighty, and that 'sweet' isn't typically associated with you. But with me, you're so wonderful that I doubt any other being in existence could ever compare."

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with veiled intentions. “Perhaps I should remind you of my true nature, my love. As befits the King of Nightmares.”

You laughed, crossing your arms with a glint of curiosity on your face. "Oh? Is that a challenge? Because, Your Majesty, I'm not one to run away so easily."

For a moment, silence blanketed the space between you. The air grew still, charged with electric anticipation as Morpheus's posture shifted. An otherworldly darkness seeped into the scene, dimming the ambient illumination. Cold moonlight took its place, casting elongated shadows on the ground. The world around you transformed into a vast canvas, painted in shades of deep blue and ink-black, completely bereft of stars.

With a flick of his hand, Morpheus stepped back. The space stretched into an endless void, where whispered secrets echoed and your surroundings dissolved into an illusion of midnight sky. His form began to transform, subtly at first. His robes billowed like storm clouds, infused with silver strands that glinted like trapped starlight. His eyes glowed with pale fire, and his hair flowed freely, no longer tethered by gravity.

Despite the imposing figure before you, you felt no fear. In fact, the beauty of it—the raw, infinite greatness—thrilled you to no end and made you shiver in awe rather than terror. He embodied everything he claimed to be: powerful, enigmatic, and fearsome—yet he remained, undeniably, the man you loved.

He circled you slowly, his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned in from behind. His voice boomed, almost demonic, though unmistakably his own. "So bold… and so fragile. Will you not bend and yield to your Lord?"

You recognized this as an enthralling performance, a thrilling roleplay that left you completely spellbound.

"You are magnificent," you breathed, your voice brimming with admiration and something else. "Truly, I don’t need to tell you how willingly I'd surrender to you. You already know."

His hands wrapped around your waist, strong and secure. "It seems," he said with a wry smile, "that even the King of Nightmares cannot dissuade you."

"Never," you replied, tracing delicate patterns on his hands. "Not when I know that you'd never harm me."

His dark and menacing guise melted away, replaced by a soft chuckle as he reverted to his normal form. The inky blackness dissipated, giving way to the previously vibrant colors of the dreamscape.

With a touch of reverence, he lifted your hand to his lips. "Perhaps," he murmured, "I shall remain 'sweet' for you alone."

You threw your head back, sinking against his chest as laughter bubbled from your lips. Your eyes sparkled with immense happiness and love. "Now I wish I never had to wake up."

For the remainder of the night, Morpheus granted your wish, keeping you blissfully ensconced in the realm of fantasies.

As you settled into your seat on the plane home, you went through a curious distortion of time. The fortnight in Cape Kennedy and week in the Dreaming had passed in a blink, yet paradoxically left you feeling as though you'd been away for eons.

You were exhausted, the jet lag evidently taking its toll on you. Readjusting to your regular routine proved unexpectedly daunting, as you had to deal with frequent migraines and an unsettling tendency to nod off at inopportune moments throughout the day. 

You missed the friends you'd made, the cozy ambiance of the former B&B, and the tranquil Floridian nights that contrasted so starkly with London's bustling soundscape.

The newborn continued to make sporadic appearances in your dreams, but the crib remained just out of reach, its cryptic message undecipherable. Curiously, this recurring vision didn't unsettle you; upon waking, it often slipped from your mind entirely.

Upon returning home, you quickly established regular long-distance communication with Hal and Rose. They now shared a peaceful home as a family, along with Jed, Lyta, the baby, and an intriguing man—a friend of Rose's—who had seemingly won Hal's heart. Rose had finally submitted her college application and begun brainstorming ideas for her future book. Meanwhile, Hal was actively pursuing a career as a Broadway performer, eagerly anticipating news of a potential audition.

After carefully considering numerous options, Lyta finally settled on a name that perfectly suited her son: Daniel Hall.

Corbyn & Jones was busier than ever, inundating you with work the moment you stepped into the office. The company overflowed with orders and requests for new projects, which Ella presented as promising opportunities for the future. With the Fashion Show behind you and sales skyrocketing across online platforms, local stores, and social media, your friend decided to entrust you with an equally creative venture, one with the potential to become the company's crown jewel. Both figuratively and literally.

"Are you serious?" you asked, your eyes wide as you stared at her face in disbelief.

"I don't see why not. You've always had a passion for jewelry, and I distinctly remember you designing some back in high school."

"Those were just early experiments, hardly worth mentioning."

She grinned, casually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You used to say the same about all of your sketches. Yet here you are." 

You sighed, massaging your throbbing temples and stifling a yawn. "Fine, you've got a point. But I'm wondering, are we really prepared to take on more work? It's not exactly difficult for people to find quality accessories from other sources."

"We've received numerous requests for jewelry to complement our products. It's a bold move, but we can't afford to ignore our competitors."

You brought your finger to your lips, contemplating. "I guess you’re right."

"Look, I know you've just returned from Cape Kennedy and haven't had a chance to catch your breath, I can see how tired you are. Still, you're the only one I can trust with this," Ella explained. "Whenever I scroll through my social media feed, all I see are the same products being marketed as 'exclusive drop collections' by different brands or influencers, simply because they're trending. I don't want to slap our name on a generic necklace, bracelet or ring and claim we made it. I want something special, something that only you can create."

Ella had always been fiercely competitive. Seeing an opportunity to make a real impact, her eyes lit up with a reinvigorated enthusiasm.

"I'm not asking you to do anything complex, I swear. You have an excellent sense of style, and you're very distinctive. You emanate this constant aura that's simply goddess-like."

You couldn't help but chortle, amused by the unintended accuracy of her statement. Whatever she saw coming from you was no longer a coincidence, now that you were aware of your true origins.

"I'll cover the material costs, and Oliver has connections that could help with soldering services and gem sourcing. Perhaps you could do some research? Visit a few places, gather inspiration, and compile elements you find appealing?"

As Ella elaborated, you found yourself increasingly drawn to the idea. You couldn't shake the concern about managing deadlines with yet another project on your plate, but it was worth a try if it meant outperforming competitors and surpassing market projections.

"I've already got a couple of places in mind for you to check out."

Your gaze drifted to your wrist, where your mother's bracelet and Morpheus' bangle gleamed under the artificial light. With these treasures as inspiration, you realized you might already possess the guidance needed to excel in this new endeavor.

“Fine, let’s do it,” you declared.

"Really? You're on board?"

"I mean, you're still my boss. We might be friends, but that's no excuse for me to slack off or neglect my responsibilities. Besides, you might be onto something here, and I'm genuinely curious to give it a try."

Ella slammed her hand onto the desk with such force that you nearly jumped out of your seat.

"Ha! Those businesses better brace themselves. We've got a secret weapon right here!"

"Come on, Ella. I'm hardly a secret weapon."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to us. And to me, because I've found my bestie again. I'm absolutely thrilled to be working with you!"

You nodded, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips. "Right. Remember how we used to daydream about this when we were teenagers?"

"How could I forget? I always wanted to run my own company with you as my creative genius. You'd tell me it was too good to be true, but I never stopped insisting it was possible. And now, look at us!"

"Indeed, I was wrong. I must admit, I was quite the pessimist back then."

Ella rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips with an air of confidence and satisfaction. "Yeah, and I definitely prefer this version of you."

"I could take offense to that, but honestly, I feel the same way."

“Yaaaaas! Slay!!!”

The office door swung open, and Oliver strode in, clutching a handful of papers. His eyebrow arched quizzically at the scene before him. By now, you were certain he'd grown accustomed to his wife's antics, yet the expression on his face was absolutely priceless, especially as he caught sight of her, arms thrust triumphantly skyward.

"What's all this ruckus?"

"Oops, sorry, love. Was I too loud?"

"I'd wager they heard you clear across the street," Oliver quipped, his lips quirking into a sardonic smirk.

Ella waved off his comment, taking the papers he offered. "Is this the list you mentioned?"

"Yes. I assume you've already informed Y/N about our new quest?"

"Indeed, I have. We were just discussing it."

Oliver pushed his glasses up his nose, turning his attention to you. "Given Ella's reaction, I take it you've accepted our proposal."

Your friend’s bouncing movements reminded you of a cartoon character, the passage of years only enhancing her comedic charm.

You gracefully crossed your legs, settling into the swivel chair with your arms and back comfortably supported, ignoring the looming fatigue and headache. "When do I start?"

Once again, you found yourself wandering through an unknown landscape, a twilight meadow bathed in the deep, velvety indigo of night. The profound quiet was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves as you stepped forward, drawn toward a soft radiance in the distance. Fireflies danced around you, their tiny lights twinkling like celestial guides along your path. The air carried a mysterious warmth, a gentle weight that felt both calming and comforting, as if something unseen were embracing you.

As you moved closer, the glow revealed itself to be a single flower blooming amidst the grass, its petals as bright and sparkly as moon dust. Intrigued, you knelt down, extending your fingers. The petals pulsed with a gentle rhythm, reminiscent of a soft heartbeat. Your hands hovered over it, sensing the energy of something alive, tender and delicate, yet infinitely strong. A deep connection stirred, an instinctive awareness that you were being entrusted with something precious.

When you touched the flower, warmth spread through your palms, wrists, and elbows, life itself flowing into your veins. You closed your eyes, breathing in the faint scent of lavender and sweetness. An overwhelming tenderness rose inside your heart: a love you couldn't describe, a caring that was simply boundless.

A delicate whisper drifted through the meadow, a soothing voice that seemed to come from both earth and sky. "This light now belongs to you," it echoed. "Soon, it will flourish. And so will you."

The flower dissolved, sinking into your chest like a subtle pulse settling inside your heart. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, silencing any sound. A thin layer of bright blue fog descended, and then you heard it again, the familiar cry of a child, the now visible distant crib beckoning you.

You attempted to rise, but were anchored to the grass as if you were a deeply rooted tree. Strangely, you felt no desire to resist or struggle. A flicker of concern crossed your mind, yet an underlying calm reassured you that there was no cause for worry.

This time, your voice emerged, speaking a single name, the only one that occupied your thoughts.

“Daniel…?”

The baby neither reacted, cried, nor moved. Suddenly, silence blanketed the scene, and everything around you faded into nothingness.

You awoke, the residual warmness from your dream still occupying your chest—a mysterious sensation yet to be understood. However, as comforting as it felt, the moment you pushed yourself into a sitting position, reality struck. You were drenched in sweat, your nightgown clinging uncomfortably to your skin. A wave of nausea surged from the pit of your stomach, twisting your face into a grimace. 

You dismissed it as insignificant, attributing it to the minor anxiety that had followed you from the realm of dreams into the Waking World. The recurring presence of that child in your subconscious remained an enigma, leaving you uncertain about its nature. As Morpheus had explained, Daniel Hall's conception during Lyta's dreams forged an unbreakable bond between him and the dream realm. Could the newborn be reaching out to you in Morpheus' domain for some unknown reason?

Despite wracking your brain for answers, you were simply left with even more questions.

You tried to lie down again, pushing aside the bedsheets as you took deep breaths. Unfortunately, the queasiness persisted. Instead of easing, it grew more intense, significantly so.

And then you felt it, that dreadful urge to expel whatever was churning in your stomach. You leapt out of bed with lightning speed, one hand clamped firmly over your mouth as you raced to the bathroom. You despised it and fought to contain it, but whatever it was, it refused to subside on its own.

Unable to hold it back any longer, you hunched over the toilet, your body convulsing as you violently ejected the remnants of your dinner. The ordeal continued relentlessly until you felt completely hollow, as if you'd purged every last morsel from your system—intestines and all.

When it was finally over, you relished the relief, washing your mouth and face to rid yourself of the sticky residue of sweat on your skin and the acrid taste persisting on your tongue. Your abdominal muscles contracted painfully, as if you'd just completed an intense set of sit-ups at the gym.

Good lord. You felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

Whether you had eaten something bad or were experiencing delayed symptoms of travel burnout, you desperately wished for this nausea to leave you alone. It had ebbed and flowed throughout the night, barely relenting even as you left the house. 

It was unusual, you rarely had digestive issues. Considering the whirlwind of your recent trip, flying to Cape Kennedy, physically moving in and out of the Dreaming, and then back onto the plane home again, it probably made sense that your body was finally feeling the strain. 

Fortunately, you made it through your workday without a repeat of your previous night's disaster, successfully keeping your lunch where it belonged. You convinced yourself it was just a random occurrence, a fleeting ailment that would pass as your body naturally recovered.

You pored over your sketches and scoured your Pinterest boards for further inspiration. With an array of gemstone pieces and chains spread across the table, you let your creativity flow, crafting designs that were both unique and original. Ella desired something innovative, jewelry that stood out from the current market offerings, and you were determined to exceed her expectations.

The process was unexpectedly enjoyable and fulfilling, surpassing your initial skepticism. Your research and material acquisitions produced impressive results, with several of your creations already sent to the workshop for soldering and welding. Weariness was a constant companion, testing your resilience and mental focus over the following days. Nevertheless, a few stifled yawns and tired eyes paled in comparison to the joy of seeing your efforts appreciated.

Just as you were ready to forget about your mysterious illness, the nausea suddenly resurfaced one day as you walked out of the shower. It lasted only a few minutes before subsiding, allowing you to sleep without feeling sick or making another dash to the toilet. 

Over a week had elapsed since your return, and with your appetite slightly diminished, you began to question whether your random symptoms were truly related to the trip and the tumultuous circumstances you had encountered in Florida. Ella and your colleagues appeared unaffected after your recent restaurant outing, yet you couldn't shake the suspicion that something on your plate might have caused potential food poisoning. 

On the other hand, you wondered if this physical disorder was merely a result of exhaustion. Your father had noticed your pallor and evident fatigue, expressing concern about how unsteady you seemed on your feet. With the new jewelry project underway you'd been bustling about, visiting stores and different studios to source new supplies. You hadn't exactly been cautious, willingly pushing yourself far beyond your limits.

During your walk home from a fruitful excursion, you had to stop multiple times due to unexpected breathlessness and lightheadedness. These strange manifestations left you feeling disconcerted, as your body behaved in ways you didn't recognize.

Ultimately, you dismissed your condition as a mere stomach bug or something equally benign. You saw no reason to fret over what you believed would be a short-lived malady.

Yet, was it truly so insignificant…?

You hadn't seen Hob Gadling since before your trip abroad, and your work subsequently left little room for socializing. In spite of his persistent invitations for drinks, you regrettably had to decline repeatedly. Hob, true to his nature, remained incredibly patient and understanding, encouraging your professional growth while reminding you to prioritize self-care.

Finally meeting him felt like reuniting after an eternity apart. His bright smile was better than any medicine, his company one of the most precious things in the world. To be honest, you felt so sleepy and generally under the weather that you were tempted to reschedule. However, you knew that finding a better opportunity in the near future was unlikely.

"Are you sure you just want tea? You're not ordering anything else? It's my treat, you know."

"I know," you replied. "It's just that I've been feeling a bit off lately."

"Oh, is that so? Sounds like you might be burning the candle at both ends again."

"My job keeps me busy, but it's nowhere near as hectic as when I worked in Wych Cross. I can sit for hours without being called away."

Hob bit into a piece of tart, humming in response as he chewed. 

"How are things going at school?" you inquired.

"Some students can be quite a handful,” he said after swallowing. “But you know how it is."

"You've become a role model for so many young people. That's something to be proud of," you observed.

"Well, when you've lived as long as I have, you inevitably accumulate quite a trove of useful experiences."

"It's not just your extensive knowledge that makes you awesome, Hob. You're intelligent, kind, and always attentive to those who need support."

"If you'd known me back in 1600, you might think differently."

"But I know you now, and I truly appreciate the man sitting in front of me."

His grin widened as he reached for your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe, I have the best influence right here."

"Oh, come on. You were already like this when we first met."

Immersed in the joyful atmosphere, you savored the shared laughter and companionship of a treasured friend. While you loved your creative job, having a day free from work finally gave you the chance to unwind and momentarily set aside thoughts of impending deadlines.

The afternoon progressed perfectly until an unexpected disruption occurred. As the waitress approached the adjacent table, a potent coffee aroma wafted through the room. The scent went straight to your head, compelling you to abandon the remaining of your tea as a sudden wave of sickness engulfed you all over again, reminiscent of a rising tide.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Hob asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Yes, it's just... isn't this smell a little too strong?"

“What smell?”

“The coffee.”

Hob furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. He sniffed the air, taking a moment to analyze it. "I don't know," he said. "It smells like normal coffee to me. I don't find it particularly overpoweri—"

You abruptly sprang from your chair, weaving through customers and tables to reach the mercifully vacant bathroom. Stunned, Hob followed in your wake, gently rapping on the door and calling your name with apprehension. Curious onlookers paused their conversations to observe the scene, while the waitress craned her neck inquisitively.

You heard him, but couldn't respond. Doubled over and coughing, you felt your fluids rushing out uncontrollably. The malaise hit you with full force, dropping you to your knees as your body eliminated its contents a second time, leaving your throat raw and burning. 

"Y/N, please say something. What's happening?"

Only when you were certain you had nothing left to expel did you open the door. A searing pain shot through your forehead, and the entire path from your trachea to your stomach felt inflamed, as if ready to burst from the inside out.

"I'm sorry about that," you mumbled, your voice hoarse. "I'm fine."

"That didn't seem like 'fine' to me. Would you like me to drive you home? I think some rest might do you good, Shortcake."

Completely drained, quite literally, you nodded silently and returned to your table. You gathered your belongings, leaving behind your dinks, unfinished and forgotten. Each step felt leaden and sluggish as you made your way to Hob's car, shrouded in a thick, uncomfortable silence. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the seat, shutting your eyes and clutching your bag's strap tightly.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized dejectedly. "I've ruined our outing."

"I'd rather see you feeling well than keep you out when you're sick to the bone. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have postponed it to another day."

You pouted. "I really wanted to see you today, though."

"And I want you to take care of yourself. I can't die, remember? I've got all the time in the world."

"I just don't get it,” you protested, your voice wavering. “I can feel fine for a few days in a row, and then suddenly I'm puking my guts."

"How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

"I've been feeling a bit strange since I landed last week, but nothing major, really. Just the occasional headache, fatigue, that sort of thing."

The car halted at a red light, its engine rumbling in the quiet street.

"You mentioned the coffee smell was particularly strong."

"Yes, I don't know why. I could not stand it."

“Mh.”

Noticing his unusual quietness and the contemplative look on his face as he mulled over your words, you narrowed your eyes. "Why?"

"Ah, it's nothing, Shortcake. I've heard there's some sort of stomach bug going around. You might have caught that."

The car resumed its journey, winding through the thoroughfares of London as you gazed out the window, your eyelids feeling impossibly leaden. “Yeah. Could be.”

Morpheus strolled through the library, his presence as ubiquitous as the tomes on the shelves and tables, as if they were fragments of his very essence. He returned the volumes borrowed from Lucienne: various dream records he'd examined to evaluate his realm's current state and its power's impact on the Waking World following the Vortex incident. 

He scanned the spines of the books before him, striding along the rows of shelves with his customary regal bearing. A faint smile played on his lips, a testament to his renewed control, now bolstered by your unwavering support and endless affection.

His fingers glided along the leather bindings, caressing centuries—if not millennia—of transcribed stories. From across the library, Lucienne and Matthew's distant voices wafted through the atmosphere, lively and tranquil, signaling the full restoration of every fracture caused by the previous disturbances.

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented, profound sense of bliss and inner peace. After innumerable centuries of existence, he finally grasped the true meaning of being cherished, and his understanding of love had undergone a drastic metamorphosis. A human had taught him more in a brief span than eternity ever could, smoothing the sharpest edges of his being. You had believed in him when everyone else saw him as a monster, perceiving his past misdeeds as steps in his growth.

Little did he know that his newfound self-assurance was about to shatter in the face of an imminent revelation.

As Morpheus turned to depart for the throne room, a whisper from behind arrested his attention. A large, weathered tome jutted out from the long row of books, awaiting the Lord of Dreams to hold it. The Endless paused, pivoting slowly, and gazed at the book with surprise as he approached. 

Its cover was pitch black, adorned with faintly scratched embroideries and devoid of any visible title. As Morpheus lifted it from the shelf, he was struck by its physical lightness, yet felt a spiritual weightiness emanating from it. Gingerly, he opened the volume, unsure of its contents. The title was emblazoned in large, inky letters on the first page:

Morpheus felt his blood run cold, his fingers turning even icier. He had heard of that name before, old tales circulating from one shaman to another, handed down to priests and storytellers until they remained nothing but a legend with no foundation. It was described as a book full of dire predictions, destiny itself written upon its pages, bringing forth catastrophic prophecies that were never proven.

Not once in his eternal lifetime had Morpheus encountered this book in the castle's library, or in any library, for that matter. He had long dismissed it as nothing more than a fanciful myth. 

Its sudden appearance in the Dreaming could only mean one of two things: either it was a product of someone's vivid imagination, or it heralded an impending catastrophe. Morpheus dreaded the latter possibility, considering all that he and the Dreaming had endured over the past 106 years.

The second page lay blank, its rough, ancient parchment unyielding beneath his ethereal touch. He flipped it over, and the third one featured a Celtic-inspired illustration in black and gold ink, depicting a tarot-like tableau of a full moon reflecting on still waters, with a solitary female figure wading into the depths. In the center, a short paragraph had been inscribed.

Morpheus's entire form tensed as he continued leafing through the book, only to discover another image, a counterpart to the previous one. Instead of the moon, the sun now dominated the landscape. The same woman stood with her back turned, clad in a long gown, still traversing the vast ocean ahead. In the middle, another caption stood out.

Morpheus staggered, clutching the shelf before him for support. These images weren't unfamiliar; everything depicted on those pages represented only one thing—what he treasured most in the entire universe: you.

He pressed on, both terrified and desperate to uncover more. With each turn of the page, he saw more of you, and even himself, intricately woven into the written lines and painted details. The book revealed something he had never wished to know, yet somehow, deep in the core of his love for you, he had already foreseen it.

A once-distant fear, something he fervently hoped would never recur as it had in the past, now a tangible possibility.

As understanding dawned, Morpheus sank to the floor, his legs buckling beneath him. His chest tightened agonizingly, as if a hidden power sought to tear his heart from his body and destroy it. He was in agony, metaphorically shattered into countless fragments, as the mental image of you splintered like a fractured mirror, your radiant smile morphing into the deepest frown.

Sequestering himself in that spot, he read the enigmatic messages obsessively, only to conclude they portrayed the most unfavorable fate imaginable. One he was determined to protect you from, no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing everything you represented for him.

And for the Dreaming.

Mere moments ago, he was elated at the thought of having you by his side, bringing out the best in himself, shaped by your unconditional love for all that he was.

The next, his eyes closed, a solitary tear tracing a silent path down his pale skin at the devastating prospect of what he had to do for your sake.

I'm sharing this for reference, so you have a clear image to associate with it; the bangle Morpheus placed in the memory box is essentially like this one. I purchased it online recently, and it reminded me of The Sandman and my fanfiction, so I've decided to include it. ✨

What did Morpheus find in the library just now??? 😱 😶 🙊 😭

Also, if you're wondering what I suspect you're wondering, the answer is… it could be either yes or no. 😏

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 23 (coming soon) ->

[rom-e-o]

this ask has spoilers for emmrich's romance and the end of the game. i saw your post about emmrich and it really got me thinking, but i don't potentially want to spoil anything for you!

with how much of a yearner emmrich is for romance and love, and with him making the comment about how it's been a while since he's been with someone, and then rook came along, i could see them getting married later on. like when the next game comes out and we can choose rook's path, as well as who they romanced, i could see there being line in the game, or a codex entry about how rook and emmrich shortly got married after the events of the game. i could see emmrich possibly already being at that point from the conversation you can have with him before the final mission with how it almost feels like he tries to break up with rook because he knows his heart couldn't stand losing them. like this man cares for rook enough that he doesn't want to see them hurting when rook outlives them (if you didn't let him become a lich)

Aw, thank you anon! The heads up for spoilers is very considerate, and I appreciate it a ton. I personally have made it through the game and all events, but I'll tag this as spoilers for other people. i know some are still making their way through and exploring things.

I always keep Emmrich mortal, personally. I feel like it forces him to confront his fear (death) to achieve what he wants (a life of love, marriage, intimacy, etc.) Not to mention, Manfred becoming his own person.

If Emmy becomes a Lich, there is a scene where it's revealed that he still cries about Manfred. To me, it comes across as ... regret. I just can't do it. He also just seems more lonely and distant as a Lich.

Yes, I can absolutely see Emmrich and Rook getting married! Maybe even having a family together, with big brother Manfred. At the end of the game, right before the final battle, when he talks about making "plans" with Rook? Oh, man wants to spend his life with them so badly. He wants to bring them back to his accommodations, and hold them, and make a home with them. He's terrified of death, but he goes in ready ... because he's fighting for the good of the world, and a future with the one he loves.

"The conversation you can have with him before the final mission with how it almost feels like he tries to break up with rook because he knows his heart couldn't stand losing them." Ouuugh, that's real. Really real. That hadn't occurred to me that he's almost self-sabotaging in that scene, but when you put it like that, I can absolutely see it. At any age, a love that strong can be scary. Especially when the consequences are life and death, literally.

I'll be honest ... I'm still crossing my fingers for a patch/DLC where we get better epilogues for each couple. I'd love to see Emmrich and Rook living together, engaged and happy. Domestic, even. Perhaps a bit naive of me, but I like to imagine, haha.

[zenkindoflove]

Fanfic Writing Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me in this fanfic tag game, @bonecarversbestie!

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing

Generally I start with a inspiration scene. A moment that stands out in my head that I can't stop thinking about. Then I design a story around that scene. If I'm writing a one-shot, I tend to be very loosey goosey with planning and just sort of write what is coming out with a general trajectory in mind. For multichapter fics, I'm much more meticulous. I always come up with an ending first so that I have a beacon to head to. I then do a high level outline which is usually what are the things that need to happen each chapter. Then as I get into the chapters, I will do more detailed outline of what things need to happen per chapter. I end up redoing the outline a few times as the story progresses.

I write the whole first draft from start to finish of either a one-shot or a chapter. I then do a major edit where I focus on bigger changes like adding in scenes or taking away whole sentences. It's my "does this make sense" edit. Then the next two edits are more wordsmithing/looking for typos. I tend to read out loud for these edits.

I'm also pretty big on writing in order. I almost never write out of order. If I do get inspo/idea for something that happens later, I'll write down lines of dialogue or details but I don't delve into writing the whole the scene then.

When I post multichapter fics, I write as I post. So when I post a chapter, usually I haven't started on the first draft of the next chapter.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Both. See above for my plotting process. But so much happens as I write that surprises me. And I end up making on the fly changes and redoing the outline often as new things arise as I'm writing.

What do you listen to when you are writing?

Depends. Sometimes I listen to music to focus. Often instrumental or something that will put me in the mood for the scene. Other times I listen to nothing and that helps me focus.

What’s your drink of choice(while writing)?

Coke Zero which I often forget about as I get into the groove and then it gets flat/warm.

Promote yourself! What’s your favorite thing you’ve written?

I think Summer Heat (Elucien + Erixius) is probably my favorite fic because it has a lot of characters that I really enjoyed writing and exploring and it's two romance stories occurring at the same time. I'm excited to get back into it. It's also just a really fun fic.

I also am really proud and always excited when I talk about Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: an Epistolary Fic because I wrote it with @crazy-ache and I think it's super unique and very fun and romantic.

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

I'm going to cheat and choose one Elucien and one Erixius fic.

Dancing Barefoot (Elucien) - This is the first modern AU Elucien fic I've ever written and I think it's a really solid, smutty one shot. I also have some Jassa in it who were surprisingly really fun. I think you should read it because I did a great job capturing that feeling of forming a crush in a night and falling into exploring those feelings with a total stranger.

The Jewel of The Forest House (Erixius) - I really love this fic because I think it's a good blend of comedy, fluff, and angst. And I think if you're a dog lover, you will love it too.

Do you have any advice for new writers?

I was listening to a podcast last night with the comedian Matteo Lane. He was talking about advice he received in art school that he applies to all creative things that he does. It was: You are not working on the masterpiece. You are working towards it.

Basically - do not get stuck in the fussiness of perfection as you write. You always will have chances to change and alter your writing. A lot of good writing happens in the editing. And just because something doesn't feel perfect, doesn't mean it isn't worth sharing. Especially in fanfiction, this is a hobby where we are all trying to have fun and support each other. It's natural to get in your head, feel vulnerable and insecure, compare yourself to others, etc etc. But you can't let that pull you down and suck the joy out of writing. Write the things that inspire you. Things you want to read, and the process of writing will become more fun. And the more you write, the easier it gets. It takes time to find your voice, and the only way you will find it is to write a lot.

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

I'm always looking to improve my metaphors and lyrical prose in a way that feel authentic, natural, and appropriate for the scene. There are some writers I really admire who do it so well and every time I read their work, I get inspired.

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Jurian!!! And Vassa. Actually in that fic, Dancing Barefoot that I recc'd, that was the first time I ever wrote them and I really had a crazy amount of fun with their dynamic. I also surprisingly enjoy writing Rhysand because I like playing between his nurturing side and being a shit. I thought about saying Eris, but I think it wasn't a surprise once I dived in. I always loved that man, and I danced around him for a bit out of intimidation, but I always knew once I dug in and found who he is inside of me, I would love it.

No pressure tags: @jules-writes-stories , @lucienarcheron , @starsreminisce, @sapphiresandgold, @lovely-vanserra-sunshine, @avabrynne , @highlordofkrypton

[moriburnd]

Please, Fall in Love with Me

summary: you have the ability to make anyone fall in love with you and you’ve just fallen in love for the first time. do you use your power? 

characters: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

words count: 4,1k

tags: fluff, gn!reader, lowercase intended, harassment towards reader, the reader has an older brother (mentioned), akaashi calls the reader beautiful, reader has soft hands, kissing, cross-posting.

a/n: this is my first time trying to write for gn!reader, so please correct me if there are any mistakes or tags that i haven't included. also, i'm not good at writing kissing scenes. english is not my mother tongue.

I.  THE FIRST MEETING 

   "please, be my lover!" 

   you choked on your drink which made yachi reflexively pat your back lightly. this is the 10th person this week who has confessed their feelings to you. hinata, who was sitting at the same table as you, could only gape at what he was witnessing. 

   you don't like crowds, especially when you're being the centre of attention, usually those who express their love for you will always express it in a quiet public space. unlike now, in the middle of the cafeteria with the man's voice so loud, you immediately freeze because all the attention of the people there turns to you. 

   with a broken voice, you tried to refuse the man, "sorry ... but i ... can't," you answered weakly because anxiety was slowly eating away at your body. 

   but the man was still adamant, he shouted and forced you to be his lover, and he even tried to hold your hand, luckily another hand pushed and grabbed the man's hand away from you, while yachi and hinata pushed your body to stand behind the two of them. 

   "no means no, you can't force them to accept you," said the man with metallic blue eyes and short black hair, his sharp gaze stared down at the man, making the man tremble uncontrollably. with that, the man who has harassed you forcibly removed his hand from the grasp of the man with metallic blue eyes and flew away from the cafeteria. 

   after the man was gone, you breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the person who helped you. "it's not a problem, but are you okay? you looked very uncomfortable earlier," asked the man. 

   "yes, i feel better," you answered as you lifted your head to get a better look at the man who was helping you. when your eyes met, your heart pounded and suddenly you felt nervousness creeping into your whole body. 

   "thank goodness. then i'll go, i still have classes to attend," he answered as he walked out of the cafeteria, but before he had time to set his feet more than a meter you realized you hadn't gotten his name. "wait, may i know your name?" you asked with your hands behind your back, embarrassed. while your two friends gape at the question you just asked the man. 

   "akaashi. akaashi keiji," he said and continued his steps. 

   not long after the man named akaashi left, you and your friends also decided to leave the cafeteria and look for another place in the campus area to chat and eat your snacks.

II. A SECOND CHANCE TO CHASE HIS LOVE 

   you stared blankly at whatever was in front of you, it had been a week since the incident occurred, but you kept thinking about the man with short black hair and sharp metallic blue eyes. your heart always pounded when you thought about him, this was the first time in your life you felt helpless like this. your mind always goes to the man surnamed akaashi, you can't seem to erase him from your mind. you even wonder if this is what falling in love feels like. 

   yachi cleared her throat, making you look up at her. "so, what's your plan? want to make him fall in love with you like the others?" she asked curiously, which was immediately nodded by hinata who was also curious about what you would do next. 

   "i don't think i would do that to him. i want him to fall in love with me without me using my power," you answered firmly. "do you think i can do that?" you asked again for the umpteenth time which your two friends only answered with 'maybe'. 

   "it's almost time for mine and hinata's class, are you okay being alone?" yachi asked worriedly. 

   "i'm fine, you two better go now before you're late for class!" you answered with your right hand waving in front of your face as a signal to chase them away. 

   hinata, who's clueless about that gesture, just nodded and said, "let us know if something happens!" 

   after the two of them left, you decided to go to the library to look for the books you needed for your assignment for next week. 

   you walked through the shady trees around campus while humming a little tune to the song you were listening to through your earphones, until suddenly someone grabbed your hand roughly, making you flinch in surprise and automatically whip your head towards the person which causes one of your earphones to fall. 

   your heart beating so fast when you see the same person who harassed you last week, your body freezes, but luckily you can regain consciousness quickly. you tried to pry your hand away from the grip, but to no avail, the grip didn't move an inch, and you were sure it would leave red marks or even bruises if he held it any longer. 

   "ow! let me go!" you shouted at the stranger, hoping someone would hear you. 

   "please give me a chance to be your boyfriend!" the man said in a forceful tone and desperation was visible on his face. 

   "please let go of my hand, it hurts so much," you whimpered. 

   still holding your wrist so firmly, he begged, "i promise i'll be a good boyfriend for you!" 

   "you're making me uncomfortable, please stop!" you said scared to death. you still try to release his grip even though you know it will only end in vain, until a hand taps the man's shoulder, making him reflexively release his grip on your wrist and making you take a step back. 

   "i thought what i said last week was very clear?" his metallic blue eyes scanned the stranger from head to toe, then glanced at you to check your condition for a moment before finally looking back down at the man in front of him. you rubbed your wrist which had been gripped by the stranger, a small curse escaped your lips when you saw your wrist turning blue. 

   you were born with the power to make everyone fall in love with you. you've always used your powers for things that benefit you the most, but you've never thought your powers would backfire on yourself like they are now. you never thought that your power could make someone obsessed with you to this extent, nor did you know that your power could influence people who were close to your target, you never noticed any of that until this incident happened. 

   along years you have this power, you have never experienced harassment like this, those who like you always know and respect your boundaries. and of course, this kind of incident makes you so afraid, especially in the previous meeting you had tried to neutralize your power from that man, but it didn't work. 

   "you better get lost and never bother this person again, or i'll do something worst." the metallic blue eyes couldn't leave the stranger in front of him, the grip on his shoulder tightened even more, making the stranger hiss in pain. without hesitation, the stranger removed akaashi's hand from his shoulder and walked away leaving you alone with akaashi. 

   silence greeted the two of you, only the sound of a sigh of relief and the wind blowing could be heard for a few seconds, until finally your eyes met each other. "are you okay?" asked the man with short black hair worriedly. 

   "i'm okay, just a little shaky and bruised on my wrist. thank you for helping me again!" 

   "we have to treat your wrist, let me take you to the infirmary." 

   the walk to the infirmary was filled with silence, no one made a sound between you, you were even sure you could feel the sound of your rapid heartbeat because of akaashi's presence beside you. you tried to open your voice, but no sound came out of your mouth, and it didn't go unnoticed by akaashi. "if i may ask, why is he chasing you like that? have things like this often happened to you?" he asked, "sorry, you don't need to answer if you're uncomfortable," he continued in a gentle tone. 

   before you could open your mouth to answer, akaashi's voice interrupted you again, "we're here, sit down and i'll get the medical kit." 

   you sat on one of the mattresses there while waiting for akaashi to find the medical kit, your legs were hanging over the edge of the bed, and you moved your legs back and forth like a child who was waiting for their mother to buy them a lollipop. 

   after finding what he was looking for, he walked towards you to immediately treat you. "for now i will wrap a bandage around your wrist. when you are home, you have to compress it with cold water." the big hand wrapped your wrist in a bandage carefully, as if he didn't want to leave a single scratch on your hand, it made your heart beat fast again and the tips of your ears turned red. 

   finishing putting the bandage on your wrist, you thanked the man with metallic blue eyes, who responded with a small nod and went to return the medical kit he borrowed earlier. you were still sitting on the edge of the bed, debating with your thoughts until akaashi's voice interrupted again for the umpteenth time, "are you sure you're okay? you seem off." 

   it's now or never, you thought. "I'm fine, it's just... i...," you said uncertainly. 

   akaashi raised an eyebrow, waiting for what you wanted to say to him. "can i have your number, i'd love to treat you to a cup of coffee if you have time!" you said quickly, which was almost not caught clearly by the man's hearing. 

III. THE TRUTH BEHIND 'THEIR' LOVE 

   after several days of you and akaashi communicating with each other to align the schedule for the two of you to meet, finally, the day came. the day you'll treat him to a cup of coffee and maybe answer his questions that weren't answered at the previous meeting. 

   earlier, akaashi took the initiative to pick you up and go together to the place where you were going to meet because he was afraid something would happen to you again, but you refused, saying that it was okay. akaashi, being the gentleman he is, finally gave in because he didn't want to make you feel forced and uncomfortable around him. 

   the jingling sound of the bell above the door rang when you entered the cafe your eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for the figure of akaashi who had sent a message saying that he had arrived. until finally your eyes caught a familiar figure who had helped you twice, it wasn't difficult to find him because the cafe was quiet that day. on the end table near the window, akaashi sat, in casual clothes combined with glasses that framed his metallic blue beads making him look more handsome. shit, your heart was beating fast again. 

   you waved from where you stood and walked towards the table nervously. "sorry if i made you wait!" you said in a tone that sounded a little panicked. 

   "no problem, i just arrived too," replied akaashi with his signature smile. 

   after you were settled and ordered what you wanted, the two of you exchanged stories with each other to get to know each other more deeply and chatted about random things that happened to either your friends or yourself, until you remembered the questions that akaashi had asked you a few days ago. 

   "about your question a few days ago...," you said suddenly, making the atmosphere a little awkward. 

   "you don't have to answer it if you don't want to."

   you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. your eyes stared at your hands clenched into fists in your lap. "no, i want to answer that question. but can you keep this a secret?" on the one hand, you are worried that he will reveal your secret, but on the other hand, you are sure that akaashi is not someone who likes to reveal other people's secrets. 

   akaashi, who was initially sipping his drink, stopped. his eyes looked straight into your eyes with a very serious look. "you can take my word," he said confidently. 

   "okay, listen. would you believe me if i said i had powers?" you asked hesitantly. akaashi raised an eyebrow and motioned for you to continue what you wanted to say. 

"i ... i have the power to make anyone fall in love with me. but the two previous events were beyond my expectations," you explained in a low voice but could still be heard by the man in front of you. "i had just discovered the fact that my powers could backfire on me if i used them too often, and that incident in the cafeteria was an example. i've tried to neutralize my power from that stranger, but apparently ... it didn't work," you stopped, couldn't continue your sentence any longer, disappointment was written on your face.

   "do you use your power on me?" 

   "NO, OF COURSE NOT! EVEN THOUGH I LIKE YOU, I WANT YOU TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ME WITHOUT THAT STUPID POWERS!" you responded with panic written on your face. 

   one second, two seconds, three or even four seconds passed in silence between you and akaashi before you finally realized what you had said earlier, making you reflexively cover your mouth with both hands. your face flushed red from the embarrassment that was slowly consuming you. oh no, i didn't just say that. 

   without you realizing it, akaashi's two metallic blue beads were looking at you gently and a smile was plastered on the man's face. "is that so? you should try harder then, i'll be watching." 

   "eh?"

IV. CHASE, CHASE, CHASE HIS LOVE 

   "there's volleyball practice today, right?" you asked your two friends, yachi and hinata, 

   "how do you know?" hinata asked. 

   "huh ... today kiyoko-san excused herself from attending practice, so i'm taking care of the karasuno team alone," yachi said weakly, making you and hinata pat yachi's shoulder lightly. 

   "uhm ... keiji told me that there is volleyball practice today. do you think i should bring him something?" you asked a little nervous about their response. 

   "KEIJI?! SINCE WHEN DID YOU BECOME THAT CLOSED? AND YOU NEVER TOLD US!" yachi replied vehemently. you just smiled awkwardly at yachi's response, which you ignore. 

   "maybe you can bring him mineral water or something, because usually after i exercise it will be very tiring," hinata responded. 

   you pondered for a moment, before thinking about what hinata said. you suddenly rose from your chair to go buy something without saying anything to yachi and hinata, leaving both of them confused. 

   "where are they going?" asked hinata, who was answered by yachi shrugging her shoulders, as a gesture that she didn't know. "we better get to the gymnasium before it's too late," yachi responded while pulling Hinata's hand so he wouldn't leave her by running. 

   you went to the nearest mini market to buy mineral water and some snacks for keiji's team, and returned to the gymnasium to watch today's training. when you got there, the gymnasium was already crowded with fangirls from various players, making you have to jostle to find a comfortable seat, you were a little regretful that you didn't come with yachi earlier. 

   on the way to the bench, you saw one of the managers of the fukurodani team, whose name you believed was yukie, making you reflexively call her in a rather loud voice. 

   yukie looked at you and asked, "uhm, do you need something?" 

   "sorry to bother you, but could you give this to keiji? and this snack is for you," you said with your hand showing a bottle of mineral water and a plastic bag containing snacks. 

   "oh my god, thank you, i'll give this to akaashi!" she answered with a virtual glow after seeing the many snacks in the plastic bag. 

   after giving it all to yukie, you went to find a comfortable place to sit. your eyes scanned all the players present until your eyes met keiji's metallic blue eyes, making you reflexively wave your hand at him, which he responded with a wave too. 

   you watched as yukie gave your entrustment to keiji, making the other members curiously gather around him. soon their eyes were scanning the audience, as if they were looking for someone in the crowd. 

   you sat quietly during the game, until someone tapped your shoulder, you turned around and found yachi behind you. she casually grabbed your hand to come with her to sit with the manager and the coach. during the match, your eyes occasionally looked towards keiji, making yachi have to jabbing your waist with her elbow several times. 

   after practice ended, yachi left you to hand out bottles to the karasuno players, leaving you alone. not long after, Keiji approached you, a smile framed on his handsome face. "you are the one gave me water and snacks? you shouldn't have to bother giving me that." his big hand stroked your head gently, makes your face blush. 

... 

   class would end in a few minutes, you looked towards the window watching the trees blowing in the wind out of boredom. 

   after the lecturer ended class, students began to leave the classroom one by one. you chose to be the last one to leave the classroom because you didn't want to be crowded with the others. 

   this morning you made two portions of bento for you and keiji, you two had promised to eat together today, he even offered you to wait in front of the locker so you guys could walk together to the cafeteria. 

   you picked up your sling bag and went to your locker to get your bento box. you were silent for a moment, checking your phone to see a message of disappointment from yachi because you couldn't eat together. after you replied to yachi's message with a mocking emoji, a smile spread across your face, making the person standing in front of you ask, "what makes you smile like that?" 

   you were a little shocked by the sudden presence of the black-haired man in front of you, but you were able to get over it quickly. "ah, just replying to yachi's message. she's disappointed she can't have lunch with me." 

   "oh, i see. want to go to the cafeteria now?" keiji asked you to which you answered with an enthusiastic nod. 

   during the trip to the cafeteria, you exchanged stories about your classes and the lecturer who was teaching, like how you were reprimanded for being caught daydreaming in class or about bokuto asking the lecturer the same thing over and over again. keiji also offered to carry your paper bag containing two bento boxes because it looked heavy, but you refused, saying that it wasn't that hard. 

   after you two sat down at one of the empty tables there, you told Keiji that you brought him lunch, and handed him one of the bento boxes. keiji thanked you for taking the trouble to make him lunch. 

   "try it. i made it myself!" you said enthusiastically. 

   keiji opened the bento box slowly, as if it were a valuable object. he took chopsticks to pick up a side dish and fed it to his mouth. keiji suddenly fell silent, making you nervous about the results of your own cooking. 

   "is it that bad?" you asked with a mixed heart. 

   keiji just smiled, his eyes looked softly at you, "no, it's very delicious. just like my mother's cooking," he answered with a smile still on his face. 

   you clapped your hands as a small celebration for your successful cooking, making the man's eyes fall on your hands which were covered in bandages and band-aid, making him reflexively take your hand and stroke it gently, "you've worked hard enough." he said, making you freeze in place. 

   keiji let go of your hand and cleared his throat. "sorry," he apologized for holding your hand without your permission. 

   "it's ... it's fine!" 

   after lunch, silence fell between the two of you for a while, until finally keiji spoke up, "i heard there will be a fireworks festival at the beginning of september, do you want to watch it with me?" he asked with one hand scratching the back of his neck which didn't itch. 

   without thinking, you answered excitedly, "sure!" 

V. Unknown Second Date 

   hour after hour, day after day, and month after month you count just for this special day. you already look charming in a pastel blue yukata with neatly styled hair. 

   now you just need to wait for keiji to pick you up at home, your heart is beating fast, imagining the difference in how handsome keiji will be today, whether he will wear glasses or not. You were too excited that you couldn't stay in your room, all you did was turn around in the hallway. if it weren't for the empty condition of the house, surely your older brother would have cursed you. 

   not long after, the sound of a knock on the door stopped you, you immediately stepped towards the door to open it. behind the door, keiji in a navy yukata with white details looked very handsome, he even wore glasses, making him look twice as handsome. "you look beautiful," he complimented with a slightly blushing face. 

   "ready to go now?" he asked again, you nod. keiji held out his hand to you, and you took it. 

   when you arrive at your destination, there are lots of food and game stands lined up, the visitors are full, making keiji's calloused hands grip yours tightly so that you don't separate. 

   you pulled keiji to all the stands that caught your attention, making keiji put a smile on his face. in return, keiji tugs your hand a little to get your attention, and he takes you to a cotton candy stand with various shapes. "you want one?" he asked to which you answered with an enthusiastic nod. 

   "now we better find a place to watch the fireworks, i'm sure you don't want to miss that," keiji's statement made you look away from the cotton candy in your hand. "you're right! come on!" you said, again grabbing keiji's hand. 

   the two of you sat under the cherry tree with a clear view of the vast sky. one by one people took their places to watch tonight's fireworks, the wide field  which was initially only filled with a few people was now full. they were enthusiastic about keeping this beautiful night in their memories, especially the children who had asked many times 'when the fireworks would be lit'. 

   you chuckle at the children who can't wait to watch the fireworks, and so do you. suddenly the sound of a countdown was heard, making him reflexively look towards the sky. 

   akaashi placed his calloused hand on your soft one, making your cheeks flush with the small action. "the countdown has begun."

   the final countdown has been shouted, now the sky is decorated with colorful fireworks that look beautiful. but akaashi's eyes were fixed on you beside him, you who felt noticed it turned around and said, "this is so beautiful!" 

   "yes." 

   you two stared at each other for a long time, your faces getting closer and closer. your body feels like it can't be moved, as if it knows that this is what you want. until finally keiji asked, "may i?" to which you answered with a small nod and flushed cheeks. 

   keiji's calloused hand held your head, one hand caressing your flushed cheek gently, and slowly your lips met. at first awkwardness gnawed at you, but whatever was on your mind, makes you reciprocate the kiss. 

   keiji pressed his forehead against yours after you guys parted from your kiss. your eyes still staring deeply into each other. with heavy breaths, keiji confessed his feelings to you, "i love you." 

   "i love you too." that night, many beautiful new memories were etched there.

[imperator-titus]

Ghost from the Past [Part 6]

In which I've finally concluded that yes I deserve a poly ship. When I get this to Ao3 eventually, I will try to make the Astarion/Gale aspect a little more prominent early on. I think it's time to add the Bloodweave tag? They be flirtin' this episode.

Also yes Eletha is kind of a messy bitch.

CW: Sexually explicit material, non-Canon compliant Poly!Gale

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[Yes I'm using this slutty gif. Finally, planned smut. gif by cheekylittlepupp]

They were going to finally deal with the goblins and rescue the druid Halsin when the sky opened up with a vicious storm. Everyone preferred the comfort of their tents, except for Eletha. In just her small clothes, she wandered around the drowning camp with nary a bother. She took this time to bathe herself and Bonnet.

When she walked past Astarion’s tent, he stuck his head out of the flap and growled at her, “What is wrong with you? Get in here this instant!”

Eletha stood under the awning of his tent, rain dripping off her skin and what little hair she had. “What’s your problem? I’m not bothering you.”

“Just get in here,” he grumbled before disappearing into his tent once more. Rolling her eyes, she followed.

Muttering and grumbling some more in annoyance, Astarion convinced her to take off her wet clothes. He practically ripped them off of her when she didn’t move fast enough. Eletha complained, but complied with his wishes, like sitting still while he toweled her off. It occurred to them both that this was the first time in a very long time that he’d seen her completely naked. Well, except for the new moon, but that didn’t count. 

“I can dry myself, you know.”

“I doubt you can tell that you’re wet, so I don’t believe you.”

Astarion hesitated as he finished her hair and moved on to her back. He ran a finger along a rather prominent scar that went from shoulder to opposite hip. Putting on a smirk and a flirtatious tone, he said, “Aren’t you a proper adventurer? And I thought those scars on your face were just for show.”

Eletha hummed, distracted. Astarion wilted a little, disappointed that he failed to open a conversation with her.

On her neck, he found two faded marks. Clearly a vampire’s bite, but unlike his, they were neat, dainty, and close together. Whoever sank their fangs into Eletha’s neck had done so gently, perhaps intimately.

Astarion pressed his nose into the back of her neck, behind her ear where she kept her hair short. She made a small noise, a little startled, a bit excited. Taking in a deep breath, he groaned and sighed. The scent was somehow familiar and new, sparking something in the dark recesses of his memory. In a low voice he murmured, “You smell amazing.”

“That’s what happens when you bathe,” Eletha rebutted with a laugh, but he could tell her heart sped up and that the sound of his voice by her ear sent a thrill up her spine. “You know… it’s unlikely you’ll find much to feed on tonight, and tomorrow is a big day. You could have some of my blood. If you want.”

“You’re such a good friend, my dear.” 

Astarion smiled to himself against her hair. Her smell was intoxicating. After pressing a kiss to her neck, making her breath hitch, he very carefully sank his teeth into her flesh. As he drank, savoring the taste, he pressed her back to his chest and let his hands wander over her skin. When one brushed against her breast, she managed to smack it away. The other trailed down her abdomen, and he barely passed her belly button before she snatched that one away.

“Naughty boy,” Eletha chastised, humor mixing with the edge in her voice. Astarion took his fangs out of her neck and chuckled.

“Please forgive me. I couldn’t resist,” he purred as she turned around to face him, an invitation in his eyes. “Aren’t high elves supposed to be too imperious for things like dancing in the rain like some common druid?”

“Oh, you want me to be mean, is that it?” she asked, stopping the bleeding on her neck, eyebrows raised.

“I said imperious. Noble. You’re more cold than commanding,” Astarion teased, haughty and confident.

Eletha hardened her eyes. With just a thought, they became sharp and clear, like a predator’s. Her voice was clipped and serious, as if she was another person. “Is this what you want?”

Astarion leaned forward just a little bit, eyes alight with delight. “Oh, yeeees. I think I like this side of you.”

In a flash, Eletha’s hand was on his jaw, controlling his head, digging in just enough to make him uncomfortable. A small gasp of surprise and arousal escaped his lips. For a moment, she looked down on him as if he was some trifling irritant, unworthy of her attention but demanding it.

Then her eyes softened and a smile bloomed on her lips. Wiping away her blood from his chin, she laughed. It was a little shocking how easily she changed. “I think the rain has stopped.”

Astarion watched as she gathered up her wet clothes, not even bothering to put them back on. “You’re going to leave, just like that? I’m hurt.”

“Oh, Astarion, you started the game, I merely finished it.”

“I wouldn’t call the game finished yet,” Astarion insisted, regaining his composure, putting on his ‘I’m starving and you look like a perfect meal’ eyes.

“You should play this game with Gale, I bet it’d be fun,” she told him with a little girlish giggle, like they were two friends discussing their crushes. If either of them had any hair, they’d probably be braiding it. 

Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Please, Gale is colder than you. I have to admit, he is quite handsome…”

“And powerful. Well, he was. And have you been to a wizard’s tower? It’s full of secrets and valuables and dangerous artifacts.” A wicked little grin started to show on his face and she tittered again. “Besides, Gale likes you.”

“Gale likes you, my dear.”

“Oh, yes, that’s why he found a bunch of books on vampirism and ancient artifacts that protect one from the sun. Because he likes me.”

“You’re having a laugh.”

“And the way you two chirp at each other like birds in spring? I have to keep you apart or I’ll get a headache. And he was very upset when you got excited about being beheaded. Personally, I’d like someone’s hands around my neck. But you have to do it in such a way that they don’t fight for air. You just stop the blood from going to their head and they just…” Eletha made a little gesture with her free hand and softly went ‘poof.’

“You’ve been drinking too much,” Astarion insisted, shaking his head.

“Okay, keep pining for my old used-up body that you’ve had before and deny yourself the powerful wizard that has done some inventive things with a goddess.” Astarion opened his mouth to argue with her, but she flitted out the tent as if propelled by faerie wings.

----

When Eletha stalked her prey, moving silently through the trees and grass, it was with reverence.

In the heat of battle, she kept her head, allowing Karlach or Lae’zel to swim in blood and gore while she managed the field.

In the goblin camp, she walked tall and her presence commanded the vile creatures to back away. Astarion saw it return, that regal severity in her eyes and words. The soul passed down to her through the ages had to be thirsting for this moment, to have lesser beings groveling at its feet and brought to heel with word or blade.

Half the night he worried that this day would end in chaotic bloodshed, a lot of it their own. He could hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel offer prayers to their respective goddesses. Karlach danced around in front of her tent out of nervousness, not gaiety, oblivious to his staring. Wyll tended to his blade and armor with fanatic fervor and offered Astarion a serious nod of camradic understanding. Gale practiced his spells for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in his life and when he met Astarion’s eyes, he smiled cockily.

Eletha had sat by the fire, staring into its flames, her bare knees crushed into the stones that surrounded it. For a while now, he considered her naive. Despite her age and experience, she still insisted on helping others with little reward. But unlike Wyll, she sometimes knew that people couldn’t be helped and served her own interests instead.

Then they were in that kennel. A proper kennel, not the one Cazador kept him in. Those little goblin children threw stones at that bear and it roared in pain and rage. Eletha’s ears twitched and somehow, he could hear her breath shudder for just a moment. The goblins giggled and clapped with glee and before anyone could say anything, Eletha’s elven longsword was wet with blood and little goblin heads rolled on the floor.

After that, Astarion didn’t think her so naive. Judging by the looks on the others’ faces when this small scrap was done, they all were recalculating their opinion of their leader.

As Eletha cleaned her blade, the cave bear reshaped into a man, the largest wood elf any of them had ever seen. He even rivaled Karlach in height and thickness. His body was soft, but not patriar soft. No, those hands could crush stones and lift ancient trees and his core was thick and sturdy, like a great oak resisting a storm.

“I would ask for your forgiveness for my appearance, but…” Halsin looked down at the headless bodies of the goblins. Everyone else was pointedly not looking at them.

“I’m all for believing any creature can overcome its nature, but I can’t abide animal cruelty,” Eletha explained, voice becoming a little humored as she spoke. Her severity melted away and she grinned at him, a hand on her chin as she appraised his appearance. “Bonnet is going to adore you. I’m almost disappointed that I don’t bring her to these sorts of things.”

“Haa, I’m sure I will enjoy making her acquaintance-”

“Bonnet is a bear, by the way,” Gale said helpfully. Shadowheart snorted, strangling a sudden laugh.

“Ah, that explains your rush to my rescue.” His attitude changed once he noticed that they were all infected with mindflayer tadpoles. After some discussion, they came to an understanding, but first thing was first.

The hunt was on.

After dispatching the goblins guarding the entrance to the kennel, Eletha stopped Astarion with a gentle touch on his arm. That harsh look was back, but there was a mischievous air to it. She pointed a finger up and he scanned the temple rafters for what she was indicating.

“What do you say? Shall we rain terror down on the Absolute’s idiots?”

Astarion gasped softly and touched a hand to his chest above his dead heart. “I think I’m falling for you all over again.”

----

This time, when Eletha aimed to put a dent in their alcohol stores, it was out of revelry and not a need to push back a deep dark sadness that threatened to crush her into dust. Gone was the icy chill, or the dour frown, or the knives in her eyes. 

She disturbed Gale’s peace with an offering of wine and a broad smile.

“What’s on your mind, Bhin?” she asked as she poured him a drink.

“It’s just… a beautiful night, don’t you think?” Eletha let him paint a picture for her of a normal night for him, fraught with wist.

“What’s Tara like?” she asked after he cleared up their misunderstanding.

“Astarion reminds me of her somewhat. The same sharp tongue. And sharp teeth,” Gale explained.

“Then I guess we’d get along.”

“As long as you don’t try to rub her belly. She hates that.” 

“But what if I want to rub your belly?” Eletha asked with a smile before putting the mouth of her bottle to her lips.

“I’m afraid I’ve experienced pleasures far more thrilling than tummy tickling,” Gale argued quite seriously before going on a small tangent about his celestial love life. Then it dawned on him. “Wait. You were flirting with me. For once, I think it is I who has had too much wine…”

“You know, Astarion doesn’t really like his belly rubbed either, but he does like having his ears gently touched and a nice stroke down the spine,” Eletha explained, demonstrating how one could pet either a cat or a certain elf.

“Are you trying to foist me onto another?” She smiled as she filled her pipe with something more fragrant than her usual tobacco. Gale didn’t think that what he said was humorous in any way, but Eletha often seemed amused by some private joke.

“Young ones should stick together. And a vampire seems like a half-step down to a normal person after a goddess, yes?” she asked after drawing in a bit of smoke. 

“Your logic is… interesting, to say the least.”

“Yeah, well, if you don’t blow up, you’ll live a long time, right? And I’m not exactly confident in my longevity, elf blood or no,” Eletha said before drinking some more.

“I believe I understand what you are trying to say.” Gale sipped his wine and Eletha refilled his glass. “I want to say this is disappointing… but I find it so… heartwarming, that you have so much concern for Astarion.”

“Don’t let him know,” she false-whispered, holding up her hand to hide her mouth and giving him a wink. More seriously, Eletha asked, “Can I paint you my own picture?”

“I wasn’t aware you had artistic pur- Oh. Yes, a story.” Gale chuckled under his breath. She wrapped her smile around her pipe, sparing him a witty remark that sparkled in her eyes. “Please. Speak to your heart’s content.”

“Despite being, well, him, Astarion was my only friend. In all honesty, he was the only one I could relate to or who could make me feel safe, even when he was getting us in trouble,” she told him fondly, building up her own wist. Then her smile fell and she took a drink. “Then one day, he was gone. And I thought I would never have a friend again. Never thought I could love someone or be loved.”

“Admirable that you haven’t chased him with a sharpened stick by now,” Gale said while she uncorked another bottle of wine for him.

“Anyway. I wandered for quite a while, alone. Sometimes I picked up an animal companion, but there was a lot of time where it was just me and the stars. Solitude felt good. I would meet people, but I might as well have been a construct, for all the care I afforded them. There was this village, it’s not there anymore. They grew the best apples. For decades I traded with this one fellow whenever I came through. We would share news, like what creatures had been seen lately, how the weather was shifting unexpectedly. He would offer me this delicious apple brandy, ‘recipe passed down for ten generations!�� he would boast. He let me set up my tent behind his house and his wife would insist on feeding me. When his children were little, they would play with whatever companion I had at the time. Then his grandchildren would play with them.

“Eventually, as most Aethen do, he died. The next time I came through, his son gave me one last bottle of the family brandy and thanked me for being his father’s friend. I didn’t even know we were friends.” Eletha toyed with her bottle and took a puff of her pipe, clearly trying to calm herself. “It was weird, how much it hurt. I hadn’t lost anything more important than a comfortable pair of boots since Astarion left.”

“A good pair of boots is hard to come by,” Gale said enthusiastically, happy to relate. He realized it probably wasn’t appropriate, given how Eletha seemed to be hovering on the edge of tears. Then she laughed and raised her bottle to his glass in cheers.

“The point being. After that, I was able to admit that sometimes, I was lonely. Little by little, I stopped being so cold. Actually learned people’s names. It still took me a while to realize when I was friends with someone.” Eletha looked over to Astarion, who was conversing, or rather flirting, with Halsin. A fond but sad smile graced her lips. “I look at him and I remember what it was like, being alone, afraid of the pain that comes with letting something in just to have it taken from you through no fault of your own. A human’s life is like the blink of an eye compared to mine, so what is an elf’s to an immortal? A single beat of a hummingbird’s heart?”

Gale was formulating a clever but sincere response when Eletha looked him in the eye so intensely that it made him stop.

“It must have been hard for you too,” she said bittersweetly. He looked down at his reflection in his wine. It was. It was hard for him. Then Eletha giggled. “There. Have I thrown you off my scent?”

Gale chuckled despite the lump traveling up his throat. “Honestly? No. You’ve only managed to become more interesting and complex.”

“Damn! I’ll have to find some way to become more repugnant.” With a sigh, Eletha stood. A wicked smirk tugged at her lips as she spied Astarion moving back to his tent. “I have some ideas. Please make sure Wyll doesn’t drink too much, I already warned him about the dangers of becoming me.”

“A drunken drowning would be quite the anticlimactic end for the Blade of Frontiers, I agree.” Gale watched as Eletha walked away and hooked arms with Astarion. It was strange, watching the two. They would throw on a different mask in the blink of an eye, become someone else to suit their needs or whims. Aside from them, the most duplicitous was Shadowheart, and even then, she was just guarded. People said he was hard to read sometimes, but Gale always felt like he was being honest when the situation didn’t necessitate secrecy.

It was sometimes hard to believe that they were ever in love. The rest of the time, it made perfect sense.

“Fancy taking a walk? Get away for a bit?” Eletha asked Astarion conspiratorially as her hand caught his elbow and snaked up his bicep. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise before putting on his own wicked grin.

“Oh? You want to go out into the woods, alone, with me? What will Gale think?”

“It’s a walk, darling. You look like you need to get out of here,” she answered, imitating him. He was flattered.

“Then lead the way.”

They walked quite a ways; Eletha smoking her pipe and Astarion taking sips of wine as they went. Eventually they came upon a hollow of trees illuminated by the brilliance of the moon.

“You know, I don’t know that I’ve had so much fun as when we were chasing each other across those rickety beams,” he told her with a practiced twirl of fondness as they found a suitable place to sit. Eletha chose to lean against a tree and he sat down beside her. “Even the cobwebs in my hair were worth it.”

“Rare to have fun instead of fighting for your life,” she pointed out lazily, soaking in the moon’s light.

“I would have changed my tune about you sooner if I’d known you could be so bloodthirsty,” Astarion purred, trailing a teasing finger along the back of her hand. “You were magnificent back there. Makes me wonder what other talents you’ve been hiding.”

Eletha sat up with a soft grunt. “Alright. You’ve caught me in a rare mood.”

“Oh?” Astarion was surprised for a moment. Last time they were in the woods together, just the taste of his lips made her sick. Well, that’s how he saw it, anyway. “A good fight has that effect on people, I just assumed you were immune.”

Eletha knelt in front of him, one knee on either side of his. She took a drink of his wine and some of it escaped in a little trickle from the corner of her mouth. Astarion reached up to sensually wipe it off and lick it off his fingers, maybe make a comment about her being as messy as him or just a generic postulation about how she tasted. Eletha smacked it away a little forcefully before running her fingers up the underside of his exposed forearm from elbow to wrist. 

Empty wine bottle tossed aside, she leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. Astarion lifted his face to capture her lips in a fervent kiss, but she dodge him. With her hot breath on his ear, she whispered, “When was the last time someone took care of you?”

Astarion had an answer for that: never. At least where vampire Astarion was concerned. Despite the fact that it was completely unsexy, he opened his mouth to answer what was clearly a rhetorical question.

Then her mouth was on his neck and a gasp escaped his lips in a cold puff. Her fingers, rough yet dextrous, teased his own before finding his belt. Astarion moaned as her hot tongue ran along the bottom of his ear. The moan turned into a desperate whine when she retreated.

Sitting back on his thighs, Eletha spared him only a passing glance before focusing on undoing the fastenings on his breeches. When he reached for her, this time aiming to pull up her shirt, she smacked him away once more. He tried again, not easily swayed, and she captured his hand, just to kiss and run her teeth along the inside of his wrist.

Readjusting, Eletha untucked his shirt. Lavishing his stomach with kisses, licks, and gentle scrapes of her teeth, she tugged down the waistband of his breeches. Astarion groaned in the back of his throat as she brushed her lips over his cock through his underwear. She left kisses from tip to base as she painstakingly pulled down the offending garment. He actually quivered as her tongue left a stripe of spit along its length.

Normally, Astarion wouldn’t let himself be so easily pleased. He’d fake this reaction, of course, and pepper in reactions that reflected what his mark desired most in him. Some wanted the commanding, debonair noble while others wanted a mewling plaything. But Eletha wasn’t a mark and she’d proven time and again that his body wasn’t the price for her protection.

It really was shocking to him how good it felt when he could let go of the performance. He had to fight against the innate instruction to turn off, just go through the motions. Astarion even tried to stop her so that it could be her ‘turn’ and he could show her how good he was, but she swatted him away. When he persisted, she laced their fingers together and just… held his hand. It felt almost as good as her lips and hand wrapped around his cock.

There was just a tiny worry in the back of his mind. Was she doing this just to please him? Were these just motions?

Then he noticed that her hand felt hotter. Her strokes became more insistent. He could feel the back of her throat and the filthy groan she made traveled down his cock. Gasping, Astarion bucked his hips just slightly and when she came up, moaning for air, strings of spit connecting them, he whined again. The look in her eyes was hungry and her lips smirked with pride. 

Thus began his undoing. With her left hand in his right, he laid his left hand gently on her head, following her rhythm with small rolls of his hips. Occasionally, unwilling to be done so soon, he would tug her hair just the slightest bit to pull her back and give his nerves a rest. She was relentless, swirling her tongue around him, groaning like a starving man eating at a king’s buffet.

Astarion felt a jolt of pleasure he’d never felt before and threw his head back with an unabashed moan. His hand had to leave her head, lest he push it down further in his blind ecstasy. Squeezing each other’s hand, Eletha took everything he had to give and made sure there would be no mess except for the wrinkles in their clothes and the disarray of their hair.

Boneless, Astarion watched her through hazy eyes as she made him modest and fixed her own clothing. He managed to offer her a husky chuckle and a half-cocky smile. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in some more fun?”

“That was fun enough for me, but thank you,” Eletha said politely, gathering up their discarded things.

“Why?” Astarion asked, maybe a bit too much like a plea. “Why do this for me?”

“Because I’m a little drunk, had some wizard’s weed, and well-”

Now that hollow far-away look came to her eyes. Eletha just… stared straight ahead, as if she could see something happening deep in the earth. 

“Eletha…?” Astarion’s bliss shifted into something akin to fear. He reached out hesitantly, debating the ramifications of touching her while in this state. “Lorelai.”

Eletha’s head snapped around, startling him. For a moment, with her body rigid, she seemed to be seeing someone else in his place. There was terror in her eyes. Then her shoulders relaxed and she was herself again. Smiling as if nothing had just happened, she said, “What’s a party without a little fun?”

“Right…” Astarion agreed, dragging out the syllable.

“I’m gonna try to get some sleep. You should hang out with Gale. He really misses his little tressym friend. Sounds like you would be a good replacement,” she explained cheerily as she got to her feet, dusted herself off, and marched back to camp.

Astarion was magically transported to Gale’s tent. Not really, but he couldn’t quite remember getting from the glade to camp and making the decision to sit down with Gale of all people.

“Are you alright, Astarion?” the man asked him, offering him a glass of wine.

“I’ve had the strangest experience.” Gale gave him a critical look-over. “With Eletha, I mean.”

“I’m not really the kiss-and-tell sort,” he told him only to receive a look that said ‘do you hear yourself?’ Ignoring it, he added, “It can be very easy to fall back into the arms of an old lover. I am sure it is… complicated.”

“Did your dear Mystra ever… tend to your… needs… and refuse reciprocation?” Astarion asked hesitantly, searching for the words that both conveyed his intention and couldn’t be misunderstood by Gale.

“Well, if I set aside the fact that our intimate affairs are not quite analogous to those shared between mortals-” Gale started rather academically and a little smugly. Then he actually thought about it and his face fell back into neutrality. “No. I wouldn’t say that was ever the case.”

“It’s a strange feeling,” Astarion remarked, still trying to untangle his thoughts. “Also. That may have been the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and now I’m disappointed that she went to bed.”

Gale cleared his throat. “I’m sure she has her reasons. As… elusive as they might seem.”

Astarion tilted his head and put on a smirk. “Fancy a go? Someone like you might be able to teach me a thing or two.”

Gale chuckled and raised a warding finger. “I’m afraid you will have no such luck with me, Astarion.”

Astarion pouted. “Come on. You’re not curious? All this time out in the wilderness and you don’t feel the least bit pent-up? I’m not some backwater farm girl looking for a tumble, you know.”

“Whether I have those feelings or not is irrelevant. Who knows what a sudden increase in excitement could do to the orb? A moment of destabilization when I’m unable to control it and we’re all dust.”

“That sounds very exciting, if I may say so,” Astarion purred, a hand finding Gale’s thigh under the table. Gale huffed as he moved it away, making Astarion laugh. “Ticklish, Gale? A mighty wizard defeated by just the brush of a hand?”

“Careful. The tadpole won’t protect you from this wizard’s magicks.” Astarion found Gale’s thigh again and managed to slide up a little before Gale moved away even further. “I know you’re having fun, and I don’t slight you for it, it is a bit amusing, but I am afraid you’ve come to the point where if you persist, I will consider it harrassment and be forced to retaliate most fiercely.”

Astarion sat back up, retrieving his hand from beneath the table. “I apologize, Gale. I thought I might convince you to loosen up a little.”

“Your apology is accepted. Perhaps under different circumstances, I would have taken you up on your offer.” Astarion picked up his wine glass and held it towards Gale’s. Curious, Gale held his up as well and Astarion clinked them together.

“Here’s to different circumstances, darling.”

[thegalaxysedge22]

After Ever (Chapter 3)

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pair: sylus x MC (named)

tags/tw: death/grief, the absolute pain of research, annoying MC, cannon adjacent

word count: 4.6k

song rec: bad blood by taylor swift

a/n: this is quite the lore drop

important: if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction also if anyone wants i can start a tag list

Work was slow yet again when Kore returned to the Hunter’s Association, leaving her with a lot of time with her thoughts. Something about the death of Dr. Higgins occuring at the same time as the death of her Grandma didn’t seem quite right. That was where her downward spiral began.

Through her clearance with the Association she was able to obtain police reports and the medical autopsy. She spent the morning meticulously going through all of it, looking for any inconsistencies that could tie the two explosions together.

Lost in thought, her eyes became unfocused from the screen, that’s when she spotted something new. On one of the police reports she had open she noticed a faint mark to the side. Zooming in on it, the writing was illegible, but it looked like something had been written in with pencil.

Despite all the advancements in technology over the recent years, the cops tended to keep things old-school, using paper copies of reports when they could and scanning them into the database once they were done. Although inefficient, their success rate showed that it seemed to work for them, so no one forced any change.

Squinting, Kore tried her best to make out the notes in the margins, but it was illegible. In a desperate attempt she took a screenshot of the paper and adjusted the contrast of the image. The markings started to become clearer and when she adjusted the sharpness of the image she could make out one word with a question mark afterwards.

Onychinus?

Hearing footsteps approaching, she took a post it note and scribbled down the word before closing the image and minimizing the reports. She quickly opened some random tab to make it look like she had been working.

Tara appeared, poaching herself on the top of Kore’s cubicle, tilting her head in curiosity. “You don’t look very well rested,” she said accusingly. Kore had forgotten her promise to her friend to rest.

“I tried my best, but it’s been difficult, I keep reliving it," Kore said, trying to deflect blame. While it wasn’t entirely a lie, she did leave out details of her rather adventurous trip. Worry plastered Tara’s face and she nodded solemnly.

“I was stopping by to see if you wanted to get some lunch,” Tara asked, changing the subject.

“I think I’ll have to pass today, I have a lot of work to get done,” Kore apologized. Tara knew damn well that that was a lie, but she didn’t push it. It was then that Captain Jenna also came over to Kore’s desk. Tara barely spared a glance at the captain, showcasing just how deep her concern went.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, I was just wondering if I could talk to Kore for a moment,” the captain said.

“That’s alright, I was just leaving,” Tara told her, eyes still trained on her friend as she walked away.

“Kore, can I talk to you in my office please,” Captain Jenna asked. A stroke of fear overtook Kore’s expression to which she was offered a reassuring smile. “No need to worry, it isn’t anything bad.”

Kore gave her captain a brisk nod and followed her back to her office. Once the door was closed, Jenna offered her a seat while she took her place at the other side of the desk.

“I wanted to check in on you, Kore,” Captain Jenna said, folding her hands on her desk, “I know it has been hard for you recently, so I wanted to see how you are doing.”

“I am alright,” Kore said, she was in fact not alright. The Captain raised an eyebrow at this, it was clear that neither of them believed the words that just came out of Kore’s mouth. It was not a secret that she had become a husk of herself since the accident, everyone who knew her could see it and she hadn’t bothered to hide the fact either.

“I know you’re relatively new here so I wanted to inform you about some of our policies. You know that we get a lot of protections and benefits working for the government. One of those is that when a loved one dies, you are entitled to bereavement leave of up to three weeks if you need it. Now I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything but you should know that you have options, if being here is too hard for you, taking time off might be your best choice.”

“In all honesty,” Kore started, vulnerability wavering in her voice, “I think that working has helped me take my mind off of things. When I am left alone with my thoughts, I start to go down a slippery slope.”

“I had a feeling you might say something like that,” the captain responded with a sympathetic smile. “I also wanted you to know that we do offer counseling free of charge. Although it is typically reserved for work related trauma, I would be more than happy to pull a few strings and make an exception.”

“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I think I have to decline for now.”

“Alright, well, that is all I have for you, so you can go ahead and get back to work,” Jenna said, dismissing Kore. Kore made a move for the door, about to exit when Jenna stopped her, “Please let me know if you change your mind at all.” 

“I will,” Kore gave the captain a weak smile. With that she started to return back to her desk, the idea of taking time off completely out of her brain. On her way there she took note of how the office was largely deserted, most people on their way to lunch. Grateful for a bit of peace and quiet, Kore turned back on research mode and started digging into this “Onychinus.” She couldn’t help but wonder if they had any connection to her family’s deaths.

With a pad of paper and a pen she scoured the Association’s databases, typing in the word nothing came up. She tried various other phonetic spellings of it with only zero results to appear. She tried “Onychinus” once more, this time something did turn up.

Did you mean “N109 Zone”? The database asked her. She wasn’t sure how they could be related, it wasn’t like you could misspell “N109 Zone” that badly, but it was a start.

Clicking on the link she was brought to another page. A sigh of relief passed through her. We are finally getting somewhere, she thought. The results were limited, 51 to be exact.

She had heard whispers of the N109 Zone before, but it was something that was treated more like an urban legend rather than a real place. It was hard to get a clear picture of everything as most things seemed to be redacted to shit. Most sources seemed to be regurgitating the same information over and over again, it seemed like the area was once a hub for technology but has become a wasteland after the Catastrophe, controlled by cartels who made money off of the trade of illicit goods.

There were discussions of the illegal sale of protocores at auction, most of which appeared to take place in the N109 Zone. Kore wasn’t stupid, she knew that the sale of protocores must’ve been a thing, they could be worth a lot of money and they are powerful. Protocore auctions turned up dozens of reports of raids that had occurred, only a few had a passing mention of the seemingly elusive Onychinus, but that was really it.

She tried using the information she had to expand her search, but as hours passed, there was very little that she could turn up. Frustrated, she goes to Nero, the team’s tech wizard, to see if he can help. Perhaps he has higher clearance than she does, or maybe she is just bad at researching, surely he can turn something up, she rationalizes.

Nero is deeply engrossed in something when Kore reaches the dark corner he resides in. Glancing over at his screen she sees him on some forum talking about a Lumiere?

“Who’s Lumiere?” Kore asked. Nero jumped in his seat at the sudden intrusion.

“What-I was just working, I wasn’t doing anything,” Nero stumbled, trying to cover his tracks.

“Wait, you don’t know about Lumiere?” He questioned, doing a complete 180. Kore just shook her head.

“How could you be a hunter and not know about Lumiere?? They’re an icon, a legend. They were the first Hunter. When the Chronorift Catastrophe first happened in 2034, they were the first one to fight the wanderers!!! It was reported that they alone saved dozens of lives when it happened. They were a hero, I cannot believe you have never heard of them.”

Noticing his enthusiasm, Kore started plotting. If I allowed him to talk, maybe he would be more receptive to bending the rules and helping me out, regardless of my clearance level, she thought. The remorse she would feel after manipulating him was in the far corners of her mind, she was a woman on a mission after all.

“They sound incredible, can you tell me more,” Kore asked, pulling up the chair from the empty cubicle next to his. Nero’s eyes lit up at the opportunity and his whole entire demeanor changed.

“Wow, where do I even begin… Well, Lumiere’s identity has never been confirmed. There have been whispers and speculations, but if you ask me, none of them have been right, they just don’t fit the profile. After saving the city during the Catastrophe, which Lumiere did single handedly, not even the military knew how to handle the situation, at least not like Lumiere did. Anyways, after Linkon City was saved, Lumiere completely disappeared. No traces left behind at all.

“That is until about 2 years ago - on February the 26th of 2046 - rumors of a Lumiere sighting started to circulate online. A picture was posted on one of our forums and people went crazy. None of the Lumites - Lumiere fans - could agree on if it was actually them. It caused a whole big fight online. 

“But eventually more and more sightings appeared and we Lumites came to the consensus that it was Lumiere, but then that started a whole other bout of discourse. Why would they wait this long to come back? What were they doing out and about now?

“Well, through eye witnesses and photographs we were able to piece together a little bit of information. Although some Lumites contest it, it is widely accepted that Lumiere became a Tenebra. You know what that is right?”

Kore shook her head.

“Oh I thought you would know what a Tenebra is because you’re a Hunter, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised considering you didn’t even know who Lumiere is,” Nero scoffed before his hands covered his mouth, “I am so sorry I didn’t mean to rude. Please forgive me.”

“It’s fine,” Kore waved off his words, “but what is a Tenebra?”

“Right, right. A Tenebra is someone who broke the Hunter’s Code. Although it is typically due to them engaging in illegal activities, most commonly protocore smuggling, that isn’t always the case.” Nero checked that the coast was clear before leaning in and continuing in a whisper, “For years now there has been a theory that the higher ups in the Association ask high level hunters to do some crazy things and that go against most people’s morals.

“A few high level former hunter’s have said as much, but they have widely been discredited as either addicts or having extreme paranoia, but some people think that is propaganda.” After that Nero sat back up and continued at his previous volume

“Anyways, another key component of being a Tenebra is ties to some sort of secret organization. So one can, in theory, be a Tenebra without participating in any illegal activities. And we know that Lumiere isn’t a bad person, so, it isn’t the illegal activities that potentially make them a Tenebra. No, we think that it is because Lumiere has ties to some of the groups in the N109 Zone.

“And this isn’t just a theory either - Lumiere has been spotted in the N109 Zone as recently as two weeks ago and as far back as two years. We think that Lumiere is the one who is keeping the wanderers out of the N109 Zone and that they potentially have ties to Onychinus, who is supposedly one of the big names in the N109 Zone.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kore stopped him while he was taking a breath, “What do you know about Onychinus?”

“Well, there isn’t too much known other than they practically govern the N109 Zone, it’s thought that they have a big hand in protocore trade though, even if it can’t be confirmed. I have also heard whisperings of the name Sylus in connection to them, but I have never been able to figure out how that plays into everything.”

“What do you know about the N109 Zone,” Kore pried for more information. 

“I don’t know too much, it is well known that information about this and Onychinus is kept largely under lock and key for some reason, but I do know that it is a hotbed for crime, also that it used to be a tech hub. Ever was allegedly based there when it first opened, but you can’t find that now, for some reason they are trying to scrub the internet of their history. There’s also–” Nero suddenly got quiet.

Xavier had appeared, leaning over the cubical’s low walls. “I was looking for you, Kore,” he said, “we have a mission.”

Kore apologized to him and stood up also apologizing to Nero for leaving him, asking to talk more about this soon to which he eagerly nodded. She then followed Xavier’s retreating footsteps.

“I don’t know why you’re talking about Lumiere,” Xavier said once she caught up to him, “It is pretty well known that they died during the Catastrophe, protecting the city.”

The wanderer was a particularly stubborn one, making it a tough fight, especially for Kore, who was already off her game. Usually, she had an uncanny ability to predict the movements of wanderers, which was why she was put in the Alpha team fresh out of the academy, but she was slightly off her game. Most of her blows were hitting the target, which was concerning considering she was the top marksman in her class. A few of her attacks were just grazes but unfortunately the wanderer could say the same. She had been grazed by the creature several. Her movements, while not exactly sluggish, were not up to her usual standard. It was mistakes like this that made her job all the more deadly.

Reloading her pistol, she took her eyes off of the wanderer, just for a moment. Big mistake. She didn’t see it coming and would’ve been hit if it wasn’t for Xavier jumping in front of her and deflecting the hit, his sword and skill easily fending off the attack.

Xavier was quick to deliver the finishing blow and Kore was left feeling ashamed. She moved off to the sidelines and fiddled with her equipment. She could feel Xavier wandering over but tried to ignore him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he said, “even the best of us have bad days.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Kore grumbled, picking lint off of her uniform.

“I’m not patronizing you, I am just letting you know,” Xavier said walking off. It was just then that Kore remembered she had something that she wanted to ask him.

“Xavier, wait,” she said, continuing when he turned back around, “Do you know anything about aether cores?”

A look of surprise flashed over his face, he was clearly not expecting that question, but he was quick to be able to mask his shock. He shook his head, responding, “No, I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Kore said accusatively, fire in her eyes. She had seen him falter and she would not drop the subject until she got what she wanted. Xavier sighed, shoulders relaxing before adjusting his posture.

“I should have known that you would be able to tell that something was different about that protocore,” Xavier said. Confused, Kore thinks back on their time together and remembers their first fight. It was in No Hunt Zone 7, the first time that they had met. She had noticed something was off about the protocore that came from the wanderer that they had fought, but she had always assumed that it was because she only had seen controlled specimens in her classes and never a real one out in the field.

“In its most basic form, an aether core is a type of protocore, one that has been modified somehow,” Xavier continued, unaware of the rapid thoughts in her mind, “it is very rare for aether cores to develop naturally and so they are often a result of human interference. Oftentimes their power dwarfs that of a regular protocore. They are very dangerous and not many people know about them, not even the Hunter’s Association.”

“If you know about the existence of aether cores, why haven’t you told the Hunter’s Association about them,” Kore questions.

“Well you know about them too, why haven’t you?” Xavier counters, her reaction is far from the ‘touche’ he expected.

“Now that I know that you have been hiding stuff from me AND the Association, how am I supposed to be able to trust you?” Kore practically shouts. Logically, she was aware that she was more mad than she had any right to be, but that didn't stop the fire that was coursing through her veins.

“Well you’re keeping something from me too, how did you find out about aether cores in the first place,” Xavier asked calmly.

“Because allegedly I have one in my body and that makes me feel like I have a right to know,” she said, her temper rising.

“You what?” Xavier said, his face paled, “What do you mean that you have an aether core inside of your body?” He didn’t even know that it was possible for a human to survive with an aether core inside of their body.

“Well apparently I was in some sort of experiment when I was younger, which I don’t remember by the way, and there was one placed in my heart and that is why I have Protocore Syndrome in the first place.”

“What do you mean ‘apparently’ you either were or you weren’t how do you know?” Xavier said, confused. Kore then recounted everything that had happened to her since Friday. 

She was so angry she didn’t gloss over any detail. It was if all at once all of her frustrations about the whole ordeal came out, the pot had boiled over. Xavier, for his part, stayed calm and collected as she went off on her verbal rampage.

“--and I need to find out more information on Onychinus because I just have a feeling that they are the fuckers responsible for this all happening but nothing is coming up–” Her avalanche of words stopped when Xavier placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just don't know what to do,” Kore admitted as she made eye contact for the first time. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. Xavier smoothed down her hair with his other hand. A sob escaped her and she fell against him as if she no longer had control over her body, he wrapped his arms around her as she cried. Deep down she was embarrassed with how she was conducting herself, but it had been so hard recently and she hadn’t been giving herself the time or space to just feel.

Slowly but surely, Kore was able to compose herself. Although still a sniffling mess, she pulled herself off of him and said meekly “I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I think I might have something to cheer you up. Here,” Xavier said as he fiddled with his Hunter’s Watch. He put their two watches together and hers lit up, Confirm Security Clearance was on the display. “The Association’s databases are useless if you don’t have the right level of clearance. I extended my security clearance to you so hopefully more things will turn up for you.”

“Really?” Kore said, still wiping her tears.

“If it’ll help you feel better and earn back your trust then yes,” he said, “but you should know that it only lasts for 24 hours. Now go.”

Kore looked at him appreciatively, touched by his gesture, “Thank you, Xavier, for everything.”

The office was nearly empty when she arrived, which made sense as the day had been over for quite some time now. She had practically sprinted the entire way back, her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing the entire ride there, every stop the subway had made felt like a lifetime. As quickly as she could she got to her computer and logged in. Preparing herself for the worst, she typed “N109 Zone” in the search bar. The results were instantaneous, and she was shocked at just how much more information came up.

The redactions in the records that she had been reading earlier were fewer, but not gone completely. She was, however, able to learn more about these supposed protocore auctions that took place there. The auctions were allegedly held at a place only referred to as Elysium and it seemed that the vast majority of them were run by the group Onychinus. There’s that name again, she thought to herself.

Scanning the screen again she noticed that with this level of security clearance, a new database had been unlocked for her the Abyssal Chaos, which she knew existed but didn’t know what it was for. Taking a chance, she put “Onychinus” in the search bar, the results were far greater than she had expected.

This time, a shocking number of reports popped up. It seemed that Dr. Higgins’ death wasn’t the only one that had suspected ties to the criminal organization. It appeared that they had been targeting former Ever researchers but the motive was still unclear. This information, coupled with her grandmother’s former ties to the company, made her convinced that they had been involved somehow.

She became obsessed over reading every single report linking them to metaflux explosions and suspicious deaths. Falling deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole, but she didn’t mind, she was too busy developing a deep hatred for the organization. She had already felt like what had happened was not an accident and matching the similarities to their M.O. was intoxicating. She was placating a hunger she didn’t know she felt.

All of this eventually led her to find another, classified, report that vindicated her belief that Onychinus was involved in her Grandma and Caleb’s deaths. This wasn’t the one that she had been obsessing over just last week, this was a different, confidential one. As pissed as she wanted to be that this was kept from her, the desire for retribution was taking over her. She had to make them pay. 

She stumbled upon a document containing all of the data that the government had on Onychinus. In it she found a lot of information that she knew already, but there was also intel on a few potential members of the group. One of the suspected higher ups was only known as Mr. Sherman and he was thought to be the brains behind the operation. Sherman’s profile was unexpectedly deep and through, it made her wonder why they hadn’t got the guy if they knew so much about him.

However, it was another alleged member of the group that really caught her eye. There was very little on him, not even a picture, just his name, Sylus. He was suspected of being the leader of the group but there was a point of contention on if he was even real. The report mentions how some of the information about him seemed to be more stuff of urban legend than reality, for example. It was said that he could disappear into a plume of black and red smoke, Kore rolled her eyes at that. Yeah right he can do that, does he turn into a bat too? Like a fucking vampire? 

Despite the myths that seemed to surround him it was confirmed that he was, in fact, a real person, and that he was the leader, or at least figurehead, of Onychinus. Everything that she learned about them culminated into hatred for this one man. “Hatred” was too weak of a word for what she felt, she loathed nim, no she despised him.

Somehow, someway, she was determined to make him pay for what he had done. If I could just go to the N109 Zone and track him down, I could make him pay, she thought. Wait, what’s stopping me from doing that? The gears in her brain started spinning and she was calculating exactly what steps she needed to take to go there. She wasn’t even sure what exactly she would do once she got there, but for the time being that was irrelevant to her.

Kore refocused her attention on the N109 Zone, this time searching Abyssal Chaos’ database. There was something new that caught her eye. A decades old brochure with touristy information, incredibly out of place for a top secret digital archive. 

The scan resolution of the old pamphlet was abysmal, but it was still legible. What really confused her was that everytime the name of the town should have been mentioned it was scratched out. This wasn’t as if someone had redacted it digitally or with a pen, it looked like someone had been desperate to erase the name in its entirety. 

Come to think of it, she had never heard of the N109 Zone referred to anything other than that. By the age of the brochure it was clear that it was older than the Catastrophe so it could not have possibly always been the N109 Zone, she reasoned. A picture captured her attention.

Nearly an entire page was dedicated to the brand new Ever research facility that was opened in 2007. Outside of the shiny new building was the unmistakable image of her grandmother, decades younger than the woman she had known, but it was her nonetheless.

Unexpectedly seeing her grandmother like that was like a punch to the gut. Especially when she was having so many mixed emotions about the woman since she had learned more about her role in the experimentation that was done on her. She tried to clear her mind and get back to reading, but it was difficult.

Inside there was the regular touristy information one would expect a city to promote, the weather, hot spots to check out and sights to see, as well as a map of the city. Thinking ahead or acting in pure paranoia, Kore downloaded the document onto a hard drive she kept at her desk before she switched focus.

Before shutting down her computer, she made one last search. She typed in “aether cores” and waited for the results. It was exactly as Xaiver had said, the Hunter’s Association didn’t know anything about them – at least not in an official capacity. 

Kore was getting tired and her desk was looking mighty comfortable. Checking the clock, it hadn’t even struck twelve, she decided that there wouldn’t be much harm in taking a short rest, so she gave herself permission to close her eyes. Sleep hit her hard and fast.

Next >

[ahonice]

Paper Rings

Paper Rings 

Mark Estapa x Fem Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: cursing, underage drinking, smoking weed, some sexual jokes, fluff (Who am I??? A fic that is only fluff, someone check on me) 

Note: this is my second installment of fics based off of my favorite Taylor Swift songs, paper rings is next because I am a lover girl just as much as I am a speak now girl <3. Enjoy, leave feedback (if my writing sucks tell me I need to know lol) Have a great day babes!!

*italics are song lyrics* (I recommend you listen to the song while reading)

***

“The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet, now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed.”

Like every other Saturday night since I started college I found myself with a twisted tea in one hand and a blunt in another. The only difference tonight had with the one that occurred one hundred and sixty eight hours ago was the scenery, rather than getting crossed in the safety of my friend's backyard I found myself in a lawn chair in a backyard that belonged to my roommate's new boyfriend’s friends. 

The conversation was hard to follow. I quickly found out that the drinks and weed I was consuming were being provided by hockey players, making me a little on edge because as much as I don’t wanna be that person, I have no idea where they got this weed. I used the guy who sat next to me as my guinea pig, like how in the olden days where royalty would have someone try all their food and drinks to test for poison, he hit everything before I did. 

Soon enough it was time to leave. I bid the boys a half hearted farewell, as I had only spoken to two of them, Johnny, my roommate's friend, and the boy who I sat next to who’s name I never learned. 

“Hannah how the hell are we getting back to the dorms?” Johnny had driven us there, but he also participated in the activities of the night leaving him unable to drive us all back to campus. 

“Good question. Johnny, is anyone not impaired here?” Thank god one of the seniors didn’t smoke or drink because he was kind enough to drive us back to campus.

During the car ride I sat in the passenger seat, as Hannah and Johnny wanted to sit in the back together and I wanted no part in that. Looking at the two in the back I saw how distracted they were with each other. I decided to ask the question I had been wanting the answer to all night.

“Hey, sorry if this is an odd question, but who was the guy I was sitting next to all night? Tall, blonde?” I asked a guy who’s name I didn’t know the name of a guy who’s name I didn’t know. I really need to start introducing myself to others. 

“Oh your taste tester? That’s Mark Estapa, and I’m Eric by the way. I know you never got my name either.” I smiled at his answer, typing Mark’s name in my phone before looking back up at Eric to inform him of my name. 

“I’ll be sure to tell him your name when he asks me tonight.”

***

Once I was in the comfort of my own dorm room I pulled out my phone to look Mark up on instagram. Quickly finding his account I spent more time then I had meant scrolling through his posts, his tagged posts, and a little bit of his following just to see what was up. An internal battle was occurring in my head as I tried to figure out if I should follow Mark or not.

“Hey Hannah, do you think I should–”

“Yes you should follow him.”

“The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street, cat and mouse for a month or two or three. Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe.”

It wasn’t on purpose, I was too distracted by the essay revisions my professor has just given me to see Mark waving at me. 

“Ouch dude that was brutal, didn’t you say she followed you on instagram. Isn’t that like a sign that she is interested?” Ethan said, giving his buddy a pity slap on the back.

“Just because she followed him first doesn’t mean she likes him, she could’ve just wanted to follow him. Stop being so delusional Edwards” Mackie said, “Also, that was tough to watch. Sorry Mark.” He added, commenting on the way I had completely ignored him. 

***

That Saturday Hannah and Johnny had somehow convinced, well more like threatened, me to come to the party the hockey team was throwing to celebrate their season starting earlier that day. 

Entering the house Johnny and Hannah immediately ditched me to go somewhere more private, much to my distaste I begged them to get a room while they were making out on the walk here, regretting that request because they were now doing just that. 

“Need a drink?” A voice came from behind me, I turned around to see Mark smiling at me with a twisted tea in his hand. “Saw that you were drinking a twea last time you were over so…” He trailed off as I reached to grab the can.

“Thank you Mark.” I smiled at him, his expression mirroring mine.

“You wanna smoke?” 

“Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night. Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life.”

That same scene happened over and over again. The hockey team would host a party, I would attend and find Mark, more often than not he would find me, and we would go smoke. 

I was starting to get annoyed with how slow things were progressing between us. I followed him on instagram, the ball was in his court now and it had been for nearly a month now. Surprisingly enough over the past month I became close with Eric, the guy who drove me home the night I first met Mark. 

Tonight when I arrived at the party I made a beeline for the couch that Eric was sitting on, ignoring Mark’s wave again. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m trying to enjoy my time here Y/n, go bother Mark.”

“Cicc this is about Mark.” 

Nodding silently, Eric stood up and allowed me to lead the way. Bad idea considering I had no idea where I was, this was a new house that I hadn’t been to before.

“Eric, I don't know where I’m going.” 

“Oh shit yeah, sorry.” He said laughing. “Give me like a minute I’m gonna go see if anyone is in my room.” I nodded, making a mental note that this is where Eric lived so I could bother him in the future when he would ignore my texts, which he did all the time. 

“Hey Y/n.” Mark said from behind me. I turned around giving him a quick greeting before recognizing the drink in his hand.

“For me?” 

“Always is.” He smiled, handing me the drink. “Look listen I was wondering, if you don’t wanna do this it’s fine, but I was wondering if you wanted to–”

“Y/n some couple is going at it in my room, but I think Moyle’s room is open.” Eric said coming down the steps, interrupting Mark. “By some couple I mean Hannah and Johnny, we gotta put a muzzle on them or something.”

“It’ll do. Mark, we can smoke later, once I’m done dealing with that idiot.” I said motioning towards Eric who made a face of shock before laughing. “I’ll find you, okay?” Mark nodded, I noticed the way he looked a little defeated but I decided to ignore it and blame it on the lighting.

***

“So we’ve been hanging out together at parties and talking constantly during the day, but he won’t ask me out. Is he not interested in me? He won’t even ask me to just plain hang out as friends outside of parties.” I rambled to Eric once we made it to Nolan’s room. 

“Wait what was he saying before I interrupted him?”

“He was just asking me to go smoke.” I said before realizing Mark was probably not asking me to smoke because he always just says “wanna smoke”.

“You idiot Eric.” I yelled.

“What did I do?”

“You interrupted him while he was asking me out, and then made it seem like we were going upstairs to do stuff.” I said, reaching over to smack him on the back of his head.

“Oh shit, yeah that probably doesn’t look too good in his mind.” 

“I’m leaving, goodbye, I’ll find you when I want to go home.”

“Why do I always have to take you home?” Eric asked, but I was already out the door. “Good luck Y/n.”

***

It took a little bit, but I finally found Mark sitting outside in one of the chairs placed around a firepit. Making my way up to him I saw that he had already smoked most of his blunt.

“Started without me?” I asked, laughing at the way he jumped in surprise.

“You snooze you loose.” Mark said, chuckling, but I could tell it was fake. I sat down in the chair next to him before speaking.

“Is everything okay? You seem a bit off.” I asked, a little afraid of how he might react to my question. We hadn’t been friends for very long, if we were even considered that.

“Yeah, I’m great.” He said, smiling for some reassurance, I don’t know if it was for me or for him. “What’s going on with you and Eric?” I had a feeling the question was coming, but it still took me by surprise.

“Nothing, we’re just friends. We’ve gotten really close over the past month, in a strictly friends way. Just friends…” I trailed off, hoping Mark would get that I’m being so adamant on us being friends and friends only. When Mark only nodded in response I let out a sigh. “Earlier, before when you were asking me about something…what was it that you were asking?” 

“Oh just to see if you wanted to smoke.” That was a lie.

“That’s a lie, what were you really gonna ask me?” I pressed on the subject because I hated when something was being kept from me, secrets, lies, anything being hidden from me.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out with me, outside of a party and not just smoke weed, but I get it if you don’t, or if you’re too busy–”

“I’d love to.”

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

The night was going great, it wasn’t a date Mark hadn’t asked me on a date, he asked me to hang out. We went to a diner for food, it was a cute mom and pop shop. While we sat waiting for our food, the waitress brought over our milkshakes. 

“Give me your hand.” Mark told me after the waitress had walked away. Skeptically I reached over and gave him my right hand. “No the left one.” I switched hands, looking at him even more confused now.

He works silently, wrapping my left ring finger in the paper wrapping of the straw he put into his milkshake moments ago. I smiled once I realized what he was doing, making me a paper ring. I quickly took a picture of my hand with Mark smiling in the background and sent it to Eric.

To: Eric🥱

*image*

He is already buying me jewelry 🥰

From: Eric🥱

Thought this wasn’t a date?

From: Eric🥱

I better be giving you away at y’alls wedding.

To: Eric🥱

You’re gonna be my flower girl Cicc 

To: Eric🥱

ALSO it’s not a date asshat🙄

I put my phone down as our waitress brought our food over, immediately diving into both the food and a conversation with Mark.

“In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool. When you jumped in first, I went in too. I’m with you even if it makes me blue.”

“This is a bad idea.” It was. Mark found out, much to my dismay, that I didn’t know how to ice skate, in return making it his mission to teach me. 

“No it’s not, I promise this is safe.” Mark reassured me, well attempted to.

After finding out that our hometowns were just a few miles apart we spent a lot of winter break together. For Christmas he got me ice skates, and a personalized bong but I couldn’t open that in front of my parents, who were spying on our gift exchange earlier that week.

“Mark I can’t accept these, they’re way too much money.” I felt bad, I had gotten him some lulu shorts, which were heavily discounted thanks to me working there, and his favorite munchie snacks. 

“Y/n please, I need to teach you how to skate and how can I do that if you don’t have any skates. Think of this as an investment, I’ll be getting my money back in no time.” By money back he meant that he would be rewarded with spending time with me, teaching me how to do something he loves. 

“This is a frozen pond, no way I’m going on this, it is not safe. Have you ever seen The Good Son.” I was not going onto the ice, I had a fear of drowning ever since I watched the movie when I was a little girl.

“No I have not seen that, but I promise it’s ok. Look they marked that the ice is thick enough and it’s cold enough out to be on here, we just have to avoid that small patch in the middle.”

“If I drown you’re going to jail for my murder.” Mark laughed at my joke, that wasn’t completely a joke. I had some truth behind my words.

Eventually I allowed Mark to lead me to the small bench so he could help me get my skates on, I took a quick picture as he put my foot between his thighs to tighten the laces. I smiled down at the picture as I sent it to Eric.

To: Eric🥱

*image*

He got me skates…

From: Eric🥱

He got you nice ass skates*

From: Eric🥱

Photo is cute, Mark looks extremely happy for someone who has a blade to their crotch.

To: Eric🥱

I hate you. 

“You ready?” Mark brought my attention back to him and I smiled nodding.

“You better not let me fall Estapa.” I said, pushing his chest lightly with my finger. He laughed in response and promised me he would never.

***

“Can I hold just one hand now?” Mark asked me. 

We had now been on the ice for about fifteen minutes, the whole time he skated backwards, holding both my hands, and I wasn’t really skated, I was more being pulled along, I don’t think I picked either of my feet up once the whole time.

“Yeah sure, just don’t go too fast.” He nodded and shifted over to the left side of me, holding just my left hand. I decided that I would start moving my feet rather than just being dragged. 

“Don’t look down at your feet, you’ll mess yourself up.” Mark gave me the piece of advice after noticing my eyes were trained on the ice below me. 

Soon another fifteen minutes went by before I decided to try skating without him holding me steady.. 

“Let go of my hand, I wanna try it on my own” I said with the most confidence I could muster up.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Yes, keep skating next to me, just don’t hold onto me anymore.” He nodded at my request and let my hand go.

I definitely stopped skating as fast, but I was still doing it on my own. 

“Think you’re ready for me to give you some space?” Mark asked, I nodded quickly before I realized what that meant. My safety net would no longer be there in case I fell. I hadn’t been close to falling yet, the whole time I was out there was going very smoothly, but before I could take back my nod Mark had already sped up and went to the other side of the pond.

“Skate towards me.” He told me, after planting himself about thirty feet away from me. I managed to gain as much courage as possible and started skating towards him. The skating itself went well but there was one thing that Mark hadn’t taught me yet.

“Mark, I don't know how to slow down, or stop.” I yelled. It felt like I was going forty over the speed limit, in reality I was probably going five miles an hour. 

“Just shift your body to the left, turn your feet.” Mark yelled at me but it was too late, I closed my eyes and I came flying and ran into him, somehow knocking his body to the ground, me quickly following after.

After opening my eyes I saw Mark staring back at me with a smile on his face, he was laughing at me and I joined in. Once the giggles settled down it was like a staring contest, neither of us wanted to break, or maybe knew how. 

“Can I kiss you?” It was insanely cliche, I wanted to roll my eyes at the thought of how predictable this was, but I still nodded my head at Mark’s question and smiled as he leaned in.

“Which takes me back to the color that we painted your brother’s wall. Honey without all the exes, fights, and flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall.”

It was our first fight. Mark began getting upset with how much time I was spending with Eric about three months into our relationship.

“I am your boyfriend, not him.”

“You don’t think I’m aware of that? Eric and I have been friends for quite some time now, why are you getting upset?” I didn’t understand why Mark was so angry, it wasn’t like I was flirting with Eric, or even ditching Mark to hangout with him, or doing anything that would cause Mark to be skeptical over me and Eric’s friendship.

“Y/n, you’re not viewing this from my perspective. You constantly talk to Eric, you text him while we’re on dates or just hanging out, you facetime or call him a couple times a week, you hang out with him just you two multiple times a week, he takes you home from parties and kickbacks, and you have never been to one of our hockey games but you said that when you did that you would be wearing one of Eric’s jerseys.” Mark’s words began speeding up as more and more spilled from his mouth.

He had a point though. I did text Eric during our dates, always pictures I took of Mark doing whatever I found endearing and asking for advice on how I’m supposed to function properly around this boy who makes me feel so many things. I had weekly phone calls with Eric, sometimes text messages weren’t enough and I needed to rant about how much I liked Mark verbally. We hang out a lot, we get lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday because we have the same break in classes on those days. He takes me home from parties, he was always the designated sober, Mark couldn’t take me home if he wanted to because we always got crossed together. I said I would wear one of Eric’s jerseys before me and Mark started dating, obviously now I would wear Mark’s jersey.

So that’s what I told him. I said those exact words to Mark, maybe a few differences here and there but still the same points being made. We discussed everything more, I had to reassure Mark that there truly was nothing going on between me and Eric, and that there never had been in the past, a couple of times but I didn’t mind. I wanted Mark to know how I truly felt about him, even if we had only known each other for a little over two months.

“Alright, can I see those photos you’ve been taking of me?”

“Kiss you once ‘cause I know you had a long night. Kiss you twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life.”

That next weekend I found myself sitting in the stands of Yost with Hannah on my side, I was wearing one of Mark’s jerseys and Hannah was wearing one of Johnny’s. I made a mental note to get coffee with her soon so we could properly dish about our love lives and other things we can’t do around our boyfriends.

Michigan won their game, but it wasn’t a pretty win. Mark had gotten two penalties and it was a win in overtime. While waiting outside the backdoors with Hannah we noticed some of the guys trickling out, all smiling at us, some greeting us with words and asking us how we’re doing. It wasn’t until Johnny walked out that Hannah left me on my own. I was a little confused on what was taking Mark so long, had he walked past me and I didn’t even realize? I drove myself here so it wasn’t like I was waiting for him to drive me back or anything, he never explicitly asked me to meet him after the game. My thoughts were cut short by the sound of the door opening, the person walking out making me smile as I walked up towards them.

“Where is Mark? Did he leave already?” I asked Eric as I finally stood in front of him.

“Hello to you too Y/n.” I gave a fake laugh, urging Eric to tell me where the hell my boyfriend was. “He is still inside, should be coming out soon though. Want me to wait with you?”

I smiled at his offer, but declined it, telling him I would text him when I got back to my dorm for the night. There was definitely going to be a party thrown to celebrate the win tonight, but I didn’t feel like going and I was hoping Mark felt the same way.

After giving Eric a hug goodbye I waited about five more minutes before the familiar face of my boyfriend began to approach me.

“Hey babe, sorry for taking so long. Tough game, I’m really glad you were able to make it. Did you have fun?” He asked, wrapping his arms around me. The last question was slightly muffled due to his head being nuzzled into my neck. I didn’t answer though, well not immediately. I pulled away from his embrace and leaned up to kiss him, a sigh of relief fell from his mouth as he reciprocated the kiss. It wasn’t a heated make out, nothing scandalous, just an intimate and slow kiss that expressed the feelings we felt for each other. As I pulled away to catch my breath, which Mark quietly whined about, I informed him that I had a lot of fun and that I will definitely be attending more games of his in the future. Mark smiled at that and I couldn’t help but kiss him again, and once more when we made it to my car. 

“What’s with all the kisses? Not that I’m complaining.” He asked once I handed him my keys so that he could drive.

“I don’t know, I just feel like kissing you right now.” My answer was the truth, as embarrassing as it felt to say it.

“Well then let’s skip the actual party and bring ours back to your place?” I giggled at what Mark was implying, but nodded nonetheless.

“Hannah is gonna be with Johnny at the party for a couple hours.”

“Let’s go.”

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want. And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

“Mark, I told you that you didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday.”

“I know, but I wanted to. Now open it.” I glared at his attitude before going to open the small box. 

“Oh Mark, this is beautiful.” It was a ring, silver, but it looked like an origami heart. Lately Mark had been getting more creative with the rings he would make at restaurants, drawing hearts or writing cute little notes, about a month ago he began attempting to fold the straw wrappers into shapes. None of them ever turned out the way he wanted them too, so now he got me one that was perfect, even if he didn’t make it. “I love it.” I love you. “You’re really stepping up your ring game lately Estapa.”

“Just wait until I propose.” 

“I want to drive away with you, I want your complications, I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me baby boy.”

“Let’s just run away together.” 

“Mark, what? No.”

Things have been pretty stressful lately. My classes were whooping my ass, Mark was feeling a lot of stress while approaching the frozen four tournament. 

“I can’t handle the pressure of this. What if we get bumped out in the semifinals again, I want to win so badly Y/n.”

“Mark, all that matters is that you do your best. It’s a team effort, you can’t put all the weight on yourself. It’s okay to feel a little worried, but you can’t let it get to you, that will only affect your game and then your fears will come true.” I told him, reaching over to grab his hand from across the table we sat at and giving him a small, but reassuring, smile. 

“I love you.” 

I froze, I didn’t know what to do. I loved Mark, I knew I did and I had known for quite some time, but hearing those words come out of his mouth, to hear that the boy I love so much loves me as well was too much for me to handle. I wanted to yell, to scream out that I loved him too, but for some reason on this damn Monday afternoon I couldn’t speak. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I hadn’t realized how long I was silent until I fully looked at Mark, sitting there the most vulnerable I had seen anyone, and crying. Shit he was crying.

“Mark I–”

“No I get it, if you don’t love me back. That’s ok, we haven’t been together for that long.” A lie, we had been together for over a year. “-I’m sorry for saying that.”

“Mark, don't apologize for saying what you’re feeling.” Why the hell could I not tell him I loved him, it’s just three words, but they just couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. His crying increased, he was almost full on sobbing right now, it broke my heart.

“Please don’t cry baby.” I reached out for him, but he winced away. “I love you too.” 

“Don’t just say that, don’t lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying to you, I love you. I have for a long time, since you got me my ring.” I sighed, reaching out for him once again, praying he wouldn’t shy away from me again, he didn’t. “Mark, I quite literally froze when you told me you loved me. To hear that you love me back, Mark, it makes me so happy. I’m sorry I didn’t say it back fast enough, I can’t imagine how you were feeling.” Mark smiled at my words, I could see the tension releasing from his shoulders.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Mark.”

“I love you too, Y/n”

We both broke out into a fit of giggles, Mark made his way around the table and wrapped his arms around me.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. That’s right, you’re the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want.”

Me and Mark were out celebrating my college graduation, he flew in from Vegas to watch me accept my diploma. The past year we had gone long distance, I went to Vegas for his NHL debut and we were both home for the holidays, but other than that our relationship took place through a screen. It wasn’t ideal, but we got through it. 

“Mark, can you order for me? Just my usual, I need to use the restroom.” Unsurprisingly we went to our favorite diner, the one we frequented a lot when both of us were living in Ann Arbor.

I came back to the table to see that our waitress had brought over the milkshakes we ordered. The scene was very similar, but one thing was different.

“No ring today Estapa? Are you trying to let me down gently?” I joked, a little confused seeing that the wrappers from the straws that sat in our drinks were crumpled up together 

“I thought you might like a ring made out of a different material.” Mark stated before moving out of his booth seat and shifting onto one knee. The confusion in my face faded once I realized what he was doing. Oh my god.

“Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I thank god everyday that you didn’t trust Nolan’s weed enough to smoke it without having a taste tester. I love you so much, I love everything about you, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anybody but you.” Tears began to fill my eyes, I could see them filling Mark’s too. “Y/n, will you marry me?” I knew it was coming, but I still gasped. The ring was beautiful, an exact replica of the ring I designed for fun two years ago, telling Mark to take a mental picture of it for the future, I guess he actually did it.

“YES!”

“Paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one I want.”

“I can’t believe you kept all of these.”

Our wedding had just ended, I was officially married to Mark, Y/n Estapa. It was a beautiful ceremony, the reception lasted almost six hours. If asked what was my favorite part of my wedding, other than officially becoming Mark’s wife, it was the picture frames placed all around the venue with pictures of me, or Mark, or me and Mark, and along with it was a paper ring, dated from that same day the picture was taken. 

“You kept every single ring you made me?”

“I’m a little offended that you never kept them, but it made my surprise all the more better.” 

“I have a surprise for you too, but you can’t see it until we get to the room, which we can’t go to until everyone has left…”

“EVERYBODY OUT, THANK YOU FOR COMING, LEAVE NOW PLEASE!”

“You’re the one I want.”

***

Note: Not proofread, because that's for losers. My brother graduated college today and I wrote this while sitting through that long ass ceremony so idk if this is good or not, tell me if it sucks tell me if you love it idc just any type of feedback is greatly appreciated. Also ik that Mark isn’t drafted (I don’t think he is, if he is then whoops) but I used Vegas because of that instagram post. Love y’all, have a great day. 

[dimalry]

It's not about you being critical it's about misinformation:

{{ of his hands, stained blue from the places they touched on my waist, my arms, but somehow, never more than that. }}

{{ “Feyre, for Cauldron’s sake. I drug you, but you don’t wonder why I never touch you beyond your waist or arms?”

Until tonight—until that damned kiss. I gritted my teeth, but even as my anger rose, a picture cleared. }}

What you dr aw was very disturbing. And on top of that it was not canon while you tried to sell it as such. Rhys painted Feyre’s body to prove to her he's not touching her untoward. Yes he drugged but the alternative would've been her staying in her cell hearing the constant screaming. Her being in those parties while the next day she barely remembers anything was everything Rhysand could've done for her at that situation. And most importantly Feyre understood. And the reason her and Rhys work so well is she would go the same length if not more, to keep the people she loves safe and protected just like Rhys did.

I don't expect you to agree with me and I only bother because I really like your arts and it was huge shock seeing those arts. And even now your art is a headcanon not canon because Rhysand never touched her chest or any private parts of her. This fandom already suffers from misinformation and lies and people goes with it without their facts checked.

And most importantly Rhys apologised. He apologised through acomaf and he's still trying to make it up to her. He feels guilty for not being able to handle the situation better, not because he could do better. Saying the mmc raped fmc while that's the furthered from truth was what made me disheartened. No one's denying what happened UTM. But you showed a worse situation that it already is.

I'm not gonna make this ask any longer because I think me bringing facts wouldn't go anywhere since you have your own mind set and it will only adds to the toxicity.

But your post was anti and I think people who would rather not see these kinda post should have a safe tag. The "feysand critical" was fine but adding "feysand" tag wasn't.

I hope you have a good day

I understand and I‘m sorry about the misinformation. I never actually tagged the artwork as „Feysand“, only „critical Feysand“ and I‘ve removed the red handprints and kisses that suggest he had done more than canon states (when corrected)- I do not want my artwork about SA perceived as headcanon and my intention wasn’t to disturb anyone. I know I should’ve thought better.

It’s only tagged as acotar for now, but I‘ll probably take it down entirely. Or maybe just remove the drawings of Feysand and leave it only at Feyre hugging her knees- that should be accurate enough, since in canon she wasn‘t in good health like so many artists depict her as such. I think it would be fair to also correct artists who draw her like a super model utm.

I still think that SA had occurred and I blame it entirely on the author for handling it all so poorly. The apology in acomaf didn’t feel like an apology to me. I guess it’s different for everyone.

Thank you for your ask, have a lovely day as well 🫶🏽

[curioussubjects]

Kara/Lee Fic LiveJournal Links

It occurred to me a while ago maybe not everyone is familiar with navigating LiveJournal, much less how to go about finding fic there. I figured it could be helpful to have a list of personal journals and communities to make that easier, or just to have on hand. What's included on this list: * Authors (prolific and/or widely rec'd, some with partial AO3 archiving); * K/L Communities (great sources for other fics and fanworks); * General Battlestar Galactica (2003) fic communities; * Friend-Locked and Deleted Journals (for reference and archived links, if applicable); * Authors that moved all their fics to AO3 (not linked, also for reference). All that being said, this post is neither a rec list or comprehensive. Mainly, I wanted it to be a point of entry for new fans or fans who aren't familiar with LiveJournal. With that in mind, if I forgot a community or user you think should be here, let me know and I'll edit the post to include them. Let me know if there are any issues/questions!

If you see your username on this list and you'd like to be taken off of it, just let me know and I'll edit the post, and likewise if you have your fics listed on LiveJournal and you'd like me to link to them.

Note: You might notice reference to a specific archive for Kara/Lee fic, called Fallout Shelter, as you explore these links. The bad news is that the site is offline. Unfortunately, the site wasn't archived very well either, so pretty much all the fics that were exclusively archived there are gone. The good news is that the archive was a repository for fics originally posted on the ApolloStarbuckFic yahoo group, which was saved during the massive archival effort to backup YG back in 2019/2020. The even better news is that the data for that group might become available some time next week. I'll make a post explaining how to go about sifting through all the messages if/when the data becomes available. Keep in mind though that I haven't seen this data yet, so I have no idea what, if anything, is saved in the group's messages and files. Still, though, definitely something to be excited about!

Fics under the cut! ☺

General Communities

Battlestar Recs BSG 2003 Fics BSG Creative BSG Epics BSG Fic Finders BSG Kink BSG Remix BSG Slash

Kara/Lee Communities

The Applecart Beyond Insane KaraLeeFic No Takebacks Pilots Big Bang Pilots Presents Reel Pilots SASA HQ (additional fic tag)

Authors (A-Z)

alissabobissa (general k/l tag, ffn) anr (general k/l tag) apodixis bantha-fodder (general k/l tag on dw) that i should suffer (archived) brynnmck (general bsg tag) coffeesuperhero (general fic masterlist) daphnaea (general fic masterlist) dionusia (general k/l tag) elly427 (general k/l tag) embolalia (general k/l tag) fahye (general fic masterlist) hackaddict indigo419 kate98 (lj deleted, find on ffn) kdbleu leavingslowly leda13 (general fic tag) letterstonorah (lj deleted, general k/l tag on dw) liminalliz (general fic tag) lint (deleted lj, fin on ffn/ao3) lotus79 meyerlemon (lj deleted, find on ffn) mnemosyne olaf47 sangga (general bsg tag) shah-of-blah (general bsg fic tag) stars-like-dust (general bsg fic tag) svilleficrecs (general fic tag) tamsibling thefannishwaldo (general bsg tag, also on ffn) voleuse whatimages (general bsg tag) widget285 (general bsg tag) wisteria- (general bsg tag) zeplum (saintstreet, plumunited) F-Locked Journals queenofthorns (f-locked on dw) rawles/peri-peteia (ao3, dw) workerbee73

Deleted Journals/Fics

kag523 latteaddict nancy777ca (some fics on ffn) oxymoronassoc (archived, see below) Look Him Straight in the Eye Just Something Out of Step shawngf sloanesomething (archived, see below) And So I Woke (1 [might be gone], 2, 3, 4, 5) All the While Byzantium (SVU crossover) Terms Five Things that Didn’t Happen on Colonial Day Untitled

Find on AO3: callmeonetrack elzed Innibis ninjamonkey73 rachelindeed rayruz scifishipper SomewhereApart

[margindoodles2407]

@seeking-elsewhither I was going to put this in the tags of that last post but nope, there's too much to elaborate in such a limited amount of space

Therefore

Let me explain to you The Big Family Experience (tm), for your enlightenment and understanding and perhaps even. Amusement

So. I have seven younger siblings at home. Also three who have gone to the next life and whom I can't wait to meet when I get there too, but for the purposes of this essay I am speaking only about my living siblings who I spend my day-to-day earthly life with.

When you live in a family as big as ours, there's a certain point you reach where the entire household falls into a kind of hierarchy of age. It's the only way to keep things civilized and also save our parents from premature deaths to cardiac arrhythmia. In my family, it looks something like this:

Me (Margin) Brother One Sister One Brother Two Sister Two Sister Three Sister Four Sister Five (Baby)

The first tier, the Damage Control, consists of myself, my first brother, and my first sister. Our job is essentially to keep everyone else from killing each other (this... also includes ourselves) and, as the name implies, smoothing the messes out as best we can when the attempted murder does inevitably occur. In practice this means we're the ones who do most of the chores, the ones who wake up in the middle of the night when a little one is crying to spare mom and dad the trip upstairs, the tantrum-soothers and get-an-ice-pack-the-toddler-has-a-black-eye brigade and the right-hand-men of our parents. I don't think they've hired a babysitter in at least five years. We're also the main organizers of sibling events- which we have a lot of; I make jokes about how we're always two side-eyes away from fratricide but we're actually all extremely close. We run an impromptu camp for them (and our cousin) in the late summer, we have an Olympics-esque tournament in the spring, right now for Advent we run a nightly mini scavenger hunt and have for years- these are only a few examples. The three of us are a unit, we rely on each other for support and as the closest and most mature there's rarely any major infighting we can't smoothe over in a couple of hours.

The second tier, the Assists, is made up of my second brother and sister. They're the middle children, too young to be part of Damage Control but too old to be considered little, and they play a critical role in helping us oldest three when things are Too Much. They're single-handedly challenging the "useless middle sibling" stereotype- they know their strengths and they know how to play them. My second brother is really, really, good with little kids- so when, for example, we babysit, he's usually the one in charge of the youngest three on a personal level (so one of Damage Control- usually me- can focus on like. feeding people. and making sure the house doesn't burn down), while my second sister, who's a little more pragmatic and better at solitary tasks, helps out with the more practical side of sibling culture: household chores and cooking and stuff like that.

The third tier, the Littles, consist of my three youngest sisters. The babies. The vod'ike, if you will. They're too young to do any real heavy lifting- right now, their job is to learn, to grow, to practice making good choices and getting along with each other. They're perhaps the second closest-knit sub-group after Damage Control.

There's an average gap of two years between each of my siblings, myself included. For example, I'm around two years older than my first brother, who's around two years older than my first sister, and so on. The largest age gap is between the Assist siblings- this is because we moved when brother two was a baby, so there's more like three years between those two. Now, two years may not seem like a lot- until you remember how many of us there are. What does this mean, you might ask.

Well, it means that I am a whopping fifteen years older than my youngest sister. (Which isn't even the largest age gap I've seen between oldest and youngest siblings- we know a lot of other big families- but I digress.) And this is actually the reason that last post reminded me so much of my own family. See, when Baby was born, Damage Control was old enough to take a new level of responsibility for the baby that we couldn't even take two years prior, when Sister Four was born. She was the first one of our siblings we kind of had a hand in actually raising. We held her almost as often as either of our parents. We fed her bottles. We helped change her, we helped put her to bed, we were an integral part of her infancy. She was the first infant that mom and dad left us to babysit- and she's barely ever had a sobbing meltdown when they're gone, like her older siblings did (no you don't understand they'd literally just sit there and scream-cry for hours and there was nothing you could do except ignore them until they fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion), because it was just normal for us to be there.

And... our hijinks were normal, too.

What I have to emphasize is that that post was spot on. Seriously, yeah, you do balance your food on the baby's back when you hold her. Your little brother will stand on your face for no reason. You absolutely use the side of your face to keep the bottle in the kiddo's mouth while your hands are occupied. This is how big-family-inter-sibling culture is.

I've got a scar on my face from a time I threw Sister Two in the pool and the bridge of her goggles caught on the bridge of my nose. The only time I've ever gotten a nosebleed was because Brother Two headbutted me right in the face. Sister Three is nicknamed "The Creature" because she is actually a little feral rodent in human form. Once Sister One and I were cleaning the attic in preparation for me to move in, we had a scuffle over the music, and she completely shattered my front right tooth (I've got a replacement now but it still aches a little when I eat cold foods). Brother One and I are the most tactile out of all of our siblings because our dad would wrestle with us when we were little, and to this day we still just all-out brawl each other affectionately for no reason. Sometimes I just pick Sister Four up by the ankles and shake her (she loves it). Baby and I have an entire love language that just consists of us repeatedly slamming our foreheads together. The list goes on and on and I'd be more than happy to give you more examples if you're so inclined to ask for them but I think you get the picture.

Anyway. Yeah. The Big Family Experience. It's hard. It's not for the faint of heart. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

[little-pondhead]

Rejected Threads Pt. 2

[This is a series where I post the bits and pieces I decided to cut out of their final fics due to various reasons. I welcome anyone who wants to pick this up and make it their own. You do not need to ask for permission to use it, but I would like to be tagged in whatever you make. Just so I can see it :) ]

[Everything here is unedited and may ramble at times. Enjoy!]

---

For some reason, it never occurred to the Justice League that their resident Wonder Woman could have a living family. One that wasn’t from Themyscria, that is. It just never really crossed their minds. Diana Prince was a demigod, after all. But lo and behold, sitting before them was a smiling Diana with a small child on her lap. Someone sighed. This meeting just had an extra hour added to it. 

“Wonder Woman,” Batman said as a way of greeting. Sitting down next to his colleague, giving the little boy she was holding the side eye. The child looked no older than five, with pitch-black hair and clear blue eyes. He wore a pair of little yellow sneakers and a space suit costume-one of those orange ones from NASA. He had a death grip on a kid’s book about the solar system and was staring at the pages intensely. Overall, the child was adorable and seemed very focused on his book. But why was he here, in the Watchtower?

Diana shook her head adamantly and wrapped her arms tighter around the boy’s torso. “Absolutely not, Bruce.” She declared with a smug grin. “You can’t adopt this one. He’s mine.” 

“I didn’t say anything about adoption.” 

“You were thinking it,” She accused. And Diana was right. Bruce had been thinking about it, but who could blame him? At this point, adoption was a knee-jerk reaction.

Barry Allen, also known as the Flash, blurred right before their eyes as he dashed away to fetch something quickly and came back. “He’s so cute!” Barry cooed, crouching down to the kid’s eye level. The child, finally noticing the people in the room, blinked at Barry’s sudden appearance. “Hi, kiddo. What’s your name?”

The child stared at Barry for a tad too long before he looked up at Diana for direction. “It’s okay,” she smiled, taking the book from the kid’s hands so they could face Barry completely. “This is Flash, one of my coworkers, remember?”

The kid nodded, turning back to Barry. “I’m Danny.” He said shyly. “ ‘s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Danny.” Barry gave the kid a blinding smile and fished something wrapped in napkins out of his pocket. “I’m the Flash, like WW said. I saw you reading that space book. Do you like space?” Danny nodded again fervently. “Would you like a moon cake?” He unwrapped the napkins carefully to reveal a slightly squished moon cake cut into four equal pieces. 

“But…” Danny looked confused. “ ‘s not the new year anymore.”

“Well, how smart are you!” Barry sounded genuinely impressed, and the whole room focused on Danny. “It’s okay. There are just some leftovers from the cafeteria. This one has mango filling. Do you like mangos?”

“Yeah!” Danny’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he bounced a little on Diana’s lap. “I like mangos, an’ strawberries, an’ razz-berries, but I never eat the razz-berries ‘cause tha’s Jazz’s favorite fruit.”

“Raspberries? Jazz?” Barry shot a glance at Diana, but she ignored him in favor of helping Danny keep all the crumbs on the napkins as he devoured the moon cake. 

“Wonder Woman, who is this child?” Clark Kent piped up, asking the question on everyone’s mind. “Is he your son?”

Diana wrinkled her nose. “Ancients, no! No, Donna is enough for me, thank you. Danny is my little cousin. Unfortunately, he got caught up in some nasty old magic spell, so I’m babysitting while his grandfather and guardians can reverse it.” 

“Spell?!” Clark was alarmed. 

Oliver Queen snorted and sat back in his chair, seemingly unimpressed. “Have fun with that. I’m not touching this issue with a ten-foot pole. I do not want to deal with any more magic hijinks this week.”

“No, seriously guys.” 

“Yeah, the giant green mealworms yesterday were enough for me.” Hal Jordan scratched his head. “I gotta admit, though, I never thought you’d have any relatives in the mortal world.”

“Am I the only one concerned about the magic spell part?”

Diana simply shrugged. “Danny isn’t exactly blood-related, per se. But it’s close enough.” Everyone could tell Bruce was just itching to grill her about what she meant. 

Martian Manhunter and Captain Marvel, who had both been absent until now, chose that exact moment to walk into the room, deep in discussion about intergalactic policies or something. As soon as Danny spotted them, he shot out of Diana’s lap with incredible speed and slammed straight into Captain Marvel. “MARVEL!” He shouted gleefully, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. Captain Marvel, for his part, didn’t stumble and immediately brought up his hands to catch whatever had just assaulted him, but to everyone’s shock, Danny was freely floating with no issue. 

“What the-” Captain Marvel grabbed Danny by his torso and held him straight out in front of him. He squinted. “Danny?!”

“HE CAN FLY?!”

“Bruce put the adoption papers down.”

“Can someone explain what’s going on?”

“Yeah, I feel like we’re missing a few steps here.” 

“It’s like the author forgot her ADHD meds or something.”

“The what?”

Diana stood up, silencing the room. “Danny, we talked about this. No zooming in the Watchtower.” She scolded. Danny visibly drooped and floated away from Marvel’s grasp. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

Clark made the time-out sign with his hands, desperately trying to turn everyone’s attention back to something important. “Okay, pause.” He insisted. “Let’s backtrack. Danny is your little cousin, and he got hit with a spell??”

“That would explain it,” Marvel mumbled, which was entirely unhelpful. 

Danny, bless his heart, had gotten over the scolding quickly and floated back over to Diana, snatching a box of space stickers from a baby bag that had gone unnoticed until now. He bobbed around, giggling and putting little stars and planets everywhere, especially the ceiling. Of course, he completely ignored the situation he had just created. Diana just sighed and rubbed her forehead, seeming to age ten years. 

“Yes, sorry, Clark.” Diana apologized. “Danny is sometimes hard to keep up with, and I have been a little scatterbrained this week. But, to start from the top, Danny is a superhero, and one of his rouges thought it funny to turn him into a little kid.”

Hal frowned. “A hero? What’s his name, do we know him?”

Diana shook her head. “No, probably not. He only protects his home and rarely gets involved in mortal realm affairs. His work is of the supernatural kind, so the JL Dark would have heard of him more than we might have. Well, aside from Captain Marvel, apparently.”

Marvel just shrugged in answer to the quizzical looks he was getting. “I’m the Champion of Magic. I work with the supernatural all the time. Danny and I are good friends.”

“Hn.” Bruce grunted. “What does the magic spell entail? You said his grandfather and guardians are working on reversing it?”

Diana pointedly ignored the latter part of the question, which did not go unnoticed. “Well, the spell itself isn’t all that complicated. It bends the timestream to make a bubble and then reverses whatever is caught in the bubble. This time, the victim happened to be Danny. So, in theory, we just need to find a way to pop the bubble.” 

“But…” Clark prompted. 

“But, Danny’s work with the supernatural has caused a few issues. He was granted to ability to work outside the timestream via a Time Medallion. Unfortunately, it was fused with his very being at some point, so the medallion and the spell are at odds with each other.”

J’onn, who had flown up to join Danny on the ceiling, hummed. “That does sound like a conundrum, as one would say.” It was odd looking at the two sit cross-legged upside down, but no one commented. Danny put a sun sticker on J’onn's forehead. 

“Sorry, can we go back to the part where Danny has a Time Medallion?” Barry raised his hand. 

“No. Anyway,” Diana smiled a little at the speedster’s offended gasp. Truth be told, she didn’t know much about the timestream, so answering his questions would be difficult. Time stuff always gave her a headache. “Danny keeps getting yanked in and out of the timestream, which makes it difficult to attend to his duties. So for his safety, our grandfather left him with me.”

The room was quiet as everyone digested this information. Diana was silently thankful that today’s meeting was a small one. The other heroes, like Aquaman and Cyborg, were out on their own missions. Not even one of Bruce’s many children was around, meaning questioning would be much shorter than if they were here. 

Finally, Oliver lifted his head as something occurred to him. “Did you just say ‘our grandfather’?”

The demigoddess merely smiled. 

“Oh my god, Diana.” Hal was twisting his ring anxiously as he caught onto what Oliver was thinking. 

Clark groaned, plopping down into a chair with his head in his hands. “Diana,” Clark really didn’t want this to be true. “Diana, isn’t your grandfather Kronos? The God of Time??”

Danny hiccuped and abandoned his makeshift solar system. Clark’s words had caught his attention. “Is grandpa here?” He asked excitedly. That was all the confirmation the League needed, and everyone sighed collectively. Honestly, no one knew how Wonder Woman got the reputation as the responsible one. She loved causing petty chaos, and it showed during times like this. 

“No, sweetie-” Diana began but suddenly cut herself off with an odd look. A moment later, Barry felt it. Something big was heading towards the Watchtower, using the timestream as a shortcut. He didn’t even get to shout out a warning before a swirling green portal opened up, and out stepped an elderly man with a purple cloak and a clock embedded into his chest. The whole room froze up. This was…something powerful. Ancient. 

That didn’t seem to matter to Danny and Diana, however. They were the only two to get up and approach the old man. “I stand corrected. Hello, grandfather.” Diana bent down to give her grandfather a hug. As she did, the man’s body shrank and morphed into that of a baby’s. 

“It is wonderful to see you again, my dear.” Kronos, the literal King of Titans and God of Time, hugged her back with his tiny arms, morphing into the form of a young adult as she let go. “Now, how is that rascal, Danny? Pandora has found something to fix this whole mess.” 

“Sorry, uh, Lord Kronos?” Clark winced at how weak and unsure he sounded. “Did you say, Pandora? As in, Pandora’s Box?”

“Call me Clockwork, Kal-El.” Clockwork turned into an old man again, and the cycle repeated itself. “I am not truly the Titan King you know of. Kronos was split upon his defeat, and I am the piece that became the physical manifestation of time. But yes, Pandora from legends. She is one of Daniel’s guardians and has been scouring her archives for some time now. She believes to have found a solution to this matter, so I have come to retrieve the young king.”

“Sorry, young king?!” Oliver screeched.

“Yeah! ‘m a king!” Danny crowed, practically glowing at this point. Wait, he was glowing. “I beat the bad king an’ put him to nap. Now I get to play until nap time is over!” 

Clockwork just sighed fondly. “Sure, Daniel. Let’s go with that. Say goodbye, Pandora is waiting.”

“Buh-bye!” Danny waved enthusiastically, and before anyone could move, the room was engulfed in a bright green light. When they finally blinked the stars out of their eyes, Diana, Danny, and Clockwork were all gone. So were the baby bag and stickers coating every surface Danny had reached. The only sign that they had been there at all was the little sun sticker still on J’onn’s head and the crumb-filled napkin on the table.

Bruce sighed. Obviously, the day’s meeting was going to take much longer than planned. “I’ll get Constantine on the phone.”

---

Final ficlet can be found here: Time Gives And Takes

[chi-the-idiot]

Full credit to @electronicdelusionstarlight 's post on what if the voices stayed with their respective princesses post the ending, as my inspiration for this came from this very idea. (this version goes more off of the idea that after the gods left the voices each were given their own reality to live with, rather than off of the more correct "we leave as mortals" ending)

(also this is probably a completely inaccurate portrayal of The Cold and The Spectre, but please just go with it for now lol. I may change it later)

OK BUT HEAR ME OUT,

The Cold, who wakes up inside the cabin, finally with a body of his own, with the Spectre sitting next to him.

The Spectre, who tries to keep her distance from him and explains what happened with the two gods, and that she can't really explain why he came back to her.

The Cold, much like her, can't explain why they're both there, but since the Narrator isn't around anymore to dictate his life, he decides that it would be too much of a hassle to kill her.

The both of them remain in the cabin together, as there is no civilization around them (does civilization even exist at this point?) and it's better to go insane in company that go insane alone (or at least that's what the Spectre says, the Cold couldn't care less).

The years pass, and they've grown into a common pattern: the Cold wakes up and fiddles around the small house he has fancied for himself in the once old cabin, while the Spectre follows him around, telling him about what she saw outside the window last night, or commenting about what ideas occurred to her for small decorations to "their house", her words, not his (or so he claims, but each time she mentions it, his eyes look softer, and his feathers seem to puff out ever so slightly). Depending on wether the Cold is going to cut some wood or go hunting, the Spectre may tag along or not by possesing his body. If it's the former, she will spend her time looking around for pinecones or pretty flowers, and collecting them inside a small basket. If it's the latter, she will stay at home and make some decorations to their little home using the items collected.

The Cold is quiet, methodical, he never does something if it is redundant to him. The Spectre, however, is (ironically) filled with life, with an appreciation for small details and the nuances of life surrounding her. He never admits it, really, but he appreciates the attempts she makes to make him happy when she can.

It isn't always sunshine and rainbows. As much as she is vivacious she also isn't clueless, and things can get ugly when in a fight. She may also sometimes get a bit mournful about the life she lost, and although she tries not to outright pin the blame on the Cold (she knows the situation was out of their hands and it did bring the gods a happy ending after all), it's difficult to forget his quiet stare as he dug the blade into her chest. She gets quiet on those days, and if confronted about it, its likely a fight will start between them.

But at the end of the day, she chose to let bygones be bygones, and every day he proves to be changing and growing into someone worth forgiving. He never quite stops his frigid ways (he never hesitates when it comes to hunting, which is exactly why she stopped going with him on those trips), but he has started smiling more, and being more reciprocal of her attentions, in his own weird way.

And one night, many years after he first woke up, as he lays on the roof of the cabin watching the stars, her conciousness next to his, he will come to understand why he appeared here after the gods left, oh so long ago now. And he will whisper, a slight tone of wonder in his voice, into the quiet night, so that only she can hear what she thought would remain unsaid for the rest of his days. And she will smile, and the Cold will feel a warmth in his chest that he thought he would never feel, and he will find that he doesn't hate it as much as he thought he would.

"I love you"