#Also is Fai sleeping under water or what

[completeoveranalysis]

[8]

I’m laughing SEISHIROU JUST LEFT OFF SCREEN? WE DON’T EVEN GET TO SEE IT?

Amazing. How to go from immense threat to minor inconvenience in two steps or less. 

WAS HE NOT USING THE FEATHER TO TRAVEL THEN? 

IF HE DIDN’T NEED THE FEATHER TO TRAVEL DID HE REALLY NEED THE FEATHER AT ALL??

…OH WELL.

[ms-kio]

Three Million Lives To Re-Claim

Darkside Entity Ahsoka X Clone Wars/The Past! 2119 Words

Ahsoka grinned as she slid the Altar blade into Son’s chest, his eyes wide in disbelief. He was no longer worthy. He couldn’t control his ambitions. He no longer strove for balance. He no longer breathed. Knowledge- not unwelcome- poured into her head by the eon. She could sense every force-user, from the two behind her to the ‘Sith Lord’ on Coruscant.

Regarding the Nabooian chancellor, Ahsoka was disappointed. True, the Banites had an interesting method- isolating and strengthening their line every generation- but it was getting dull. Stagnant. And Sideous, unlike his predecessors, only thought of the grand scheme of his own life. Not the galaxy itself. 

Ahsoka scoffed at the foolishness of the Jedi, blinded by the light they drowned themselves in. The Darkside Entity could count on one hand how many Jedi knew what they were doing. That one in the corner, Fay, didn’t count. She was practically Daughter’s child at this point.

Contrary to the current Jedi’s beliefs, the light side of the force was also a drug of sorts. While the darkside ran the risk of going mad, consumed by your fears and burning from the inside out, the light deceived you with it’s peacefulness. It was like a sedative, slowly putting you to sleep and closing your eyes for you, until you only saw what was bathed in light.

Ahsoka had once fallen victim to that blindness, mistaking the quiet in her mind for peace. Now, becoming the darkness, she knew better. 

The Son fell from her blade, Ahsoka letting the weapon retract and clipping the hilt to her waist. She turned to her Master, now the only one who could ‘tame’ her, being the ‘Chosen One’. As an act of compassion, Ahsoka took off her padawan's braid, dropping it into Skywalker's stunned hands. “This will be our final goodbye, Master.” She said, before turning to Father, walking over and raising her blase to pierce his neck. Daughter stopped Kenobi and Skywalker from intervening, holding her hand out. “Daughter will watch over this time,” she stated, “I am going to fix what Son so badly neglected.” Black blood spilled over The darkside entity’s fingers and time warped around her.

Ahsoka pulled the fabric of space and time, guiding herself to Kamino, the storm instantly greeting her with harsh winds and rain. Undeterred, Ahsoka approached the doors, immediately being greeted by a Kaminoan.

“Greetings, Master Jedi. We have been waiting.” The Kaminoan greeted, falling into step beside Ahsoka.

The Togruta simply nodded, the water shedding off her completely as she stepped through the door. “I’m here to check and monitor the progress of the Clone Army.” She declared, her hands folded behind her back. Both her sabers dangled on her right hip, the blade of the altar on her left.

The Kaminoan nodded. “Of course. This way, I’ll give you access to their files. Our most promising samples will be ready for inspection within the hour. Please ask Xi Lao if you have any questions.” Ahsoka was essentially ‘passed off’ to another Kaminoan as the other dismissed themself.

Ahsoka gave the new Kaminoan a nod before sitting down at a desk, examining all of the files of those under ARC training. Ahsoka recognized Cody’s serial number, as well as Rex’s, who was slated to begin ARC training the next year.

Apparently, time flies while reading clone reports. She’d gotten through a decent handful before she was disturbed. “Master Jedi, the cadets are ready for you.” Ahsoka stood, turning to face the Kaminoan she recognized as Lama Su.

“We’ll see.” She replied. According to her search, Cody was among the group of cadets she would be inspecting. She wasn’t surprised. Cody was a scarily competent clone, well deserving of his rank and status as marshall commander.

They headed to the staging ground of the training deck, where Ahsoka spotted a platoon of fifteen clones: three squads, five elements. Alpha -17 was also there, standing at parade rest off to the side. Once Ahsoka came approximately six paces close, he rendered a salute. The Togruta reciprocated, before facing the cadets. Ahsoka squared off in front of them at attention. “Platoon. Open ranks, march!” The clones immediately recognized the command, obeying it with perfect synchronization. “Ready, front!” Well executed. “Cover.” Ahsoka approached, letting her eyes narrow. Starting with the first squad leader, she examined every clone, deactivating their inhibitor chips as she inspected each one. Alpha had taken a place directly behind her as she walked the inspection, as was protocol.

About halfway through the inspection, Ahsoka paused. The clone before her had shields of durasteel, coated in sharp teeth. However untested they were, they were strong. A young jedi knight would have trouble breaking them. Something was different about him in there, undoubtedly. Why else would a clone need to protect himself so?

The longer she stood there, the more she could feel the anxiety from the surrounding clones rise. Ahsoka supposed she could understand. Being noticed without an obvious accomplishment usually meant decommissioning. “Cadet, what is your designation?” She asked.

“CC-1010, sir!” Ah, Fox! Of course. When Ahsoka had been running from the guard and her master, and imprisoned, she had been too terrified to recognize Fox’s unique shields. And Ahsoka’ll be damned, that’s force sensitivity! That would do it for a clone.

Once she reached the last cadet, she returned to her spot in front of the platoon. “Platoon. On the command to fall out, fall out and head to the training deck. Fall out!” The cadets obeyed, and Ahsoka approached Alpha-17 and the Kaminoan. “They have strong minds, you’ve trained them well.” She said, folding her hands behind her back again as the trio headed towards the training deck. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir.” There was a pause in Alpha-17’s speech. “Permission to speak freely, sir?” Ahsoka could sense some well-hidden nervousness.

She glanced at him. “Permission granted.” She said, glancing at him through the corner of her eye.

The man cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, you seem a little young to be a general. Is- Are you- I suppose I’m a little confused.”

“Alpha-17.” The Lama Su began to scold, but Ahsoka held up her hand.

“No, it’s quite alright. I can see why he’s curious.” The Togruta turned her attention back to the clone. “As of now, I’m the Jedi who’s best educated on formal military training and conduct.” The former Jedi explained. “I will act as the liaison between the army and the Jedi temple, and teach the cadets the best ways to protect and work with their generals for when they’re sent out. To simplify, I am the last phase of training for the commanders.”

“If I may ask: What will you be teaching the CC units specifically?” Or, what will you be doing to Fox.

“I’ll be running the entire base through a simulation. After I assess CC-1010’s swordsmanship skills myself, I’ll give him a set of instructions. Those on the deck now will be suddenly put in the position to lead in an unorganized, unpredicted situation with brothers who are unprepared.” Ahsoka explained. “Their target will be me, and their objective is to capture. It’ll be a good way to determine the state of the currently battle-ready clones.” Ahsoka turned her eyes to the Kaminoan. “You may want to warn your colleagues, Lama Su. I’m sure the clones will be clean with their work, but it’s best to be cautious.”

~ ~ ~

CC-2224 was nervous. He had noticed how the General had immediately picked Fox out, her topaz eyes seeming to pierce into his very soul. His brothers had noticed this too. It was hard not to, for them. Spotting these things was a matter of survival for the clones, and no one wanted any brother to get decommissioned. “Hey, Fox. we got your six, brother.” Cody assured as they approached the deck. “You’ll be fine.” They were empty words. No vod could deny the word of their superior, especially if they were a general. Nonetheless, Cody said them.

They spent five nerve-wracking minutes waiting for the general on the training deck before she finally appeared, the cadets hearing the last few words of the conversation between Alpha and the general. “Do you have any cadets in mind?”

“Yes, CT-7567.” Cody paled. That was Rex. The poor kid was already under scrutiny due to his ‘defect’. “He’ll do well.” The general's attention then turned to Cody and his present brothers. “You lot were picked to represent yourselves and your brothers as the best, correct?” She asked, though the question was rhetorical. “I have a keen eye for potential.” The general said, looking at each of them individually.

“From now on, you will refer to me as General Tano or Sir.” She paused, Alpha standing behind her right shoulder. “CC-1010, front and center.” Fox perked up at his serial number, briskly walking up to square off in front of the general.

“CC-1010, reporting as ordered, sir.” The general returned his salute, both of them dropping it promptly. General Tano, although much shorter than the clones, seemed to tower over Fox for a moment. Her yellow eyes gleamed at him as she offered the cadet a hilt, which Cody recognized, was a lightsaber hilt. And if Cody could see the slight shake in Fox’s hands, He clenched his teeth. Then the general definitely could.

“The best soldiers can adapt to any situation.” The general said after Fox took the weapon, igniting her own blade. Fox followed suit, the two deep-orange sabers giving an orange hue to the surrounding area. Alpha had wisely backed off as the general charged Fox, the cadet quickly blocking the blow.

“C’mon, Fox. You can do this.” Cody heard a neighboring brother mutter. He could understand the sentiment. Each and every clone watching could recognize this as a test, one with unknown consequences should he succeed or fail in impressing the Jedi. Fox had also been one of the only cadets that had any training in swordsmanship, along with the other current cadets who were pre-assigned to the Coruscant Guard. 

Fox was stuck defending, not being able to get on the offensive for even a single second. The fight dragged on until the general leaped back, deactivating her saber. Fox had escaped any devastating damage, only suffering a few burns across his ribs and arms. The first hit had terrified Cody, thinking his brother's arm was about to get cut off.

The general then beckoned Fox away from the other clones, towards her, which terrified Cody all over again.

~ ~ ~

Fox was going to die. This is it. He’d been noticed, he’d been scrutinized, and now he’s being singled out. Despite holding a lightsaber, weapons the CC units had studied, he felt completely powerless against the piercing topaz eyes of the general in front of him. The cadet was all too happy to hand the blade back to the general when she held out her hand, and felt his heart drop when she beckoned him away from his brothers.

By the vode, Fox had been described as brutal, cunning, and confident. He was feeling none of those now. “What’s your name, cadet?” She asked. Now, Fox was just confused.

“What?”

General Tano just gave a grin, eyes soft. “Your name.” She clarified. “The kamiise are far enough away not to hear, I apologize for scaring you.”

Leap of faith, then. “Fox.” He took a deep breath. “My name is Fox.” Goddamnit, Fox was going to get decommissioned for this.

“That’s a good name. Now, here’s what I want you to do: go to your brothers, and tell them all to spread through the base and gather teams of combat-trained vode. Your job is to apprehend me by any means possible, not neutralize. I’ll be testing the leadership skills of everyone in this room, and the followership of the gathered teams.” Fox had all of ten seconds to process that set of instructions, before the general continued. “You and your teams have until tomorrow’s midmeal to capture me. Whichever team does, gets to have specialized training sessions for the next week.”

There was a pause. “Now go!”

Fox turned on his heel and sprinted to his brothers, hardly leaving any room for them to speak as he launched in an explanation. “The general wants us to capture her, training simulation. All of us are supposed to gather teams of any combat ready clones, we have until tomorrow, midmeal. Reward is specialized training for the winning team, anything goes.”

The group launched into action, some heading to the mess, others to the barracks and training grounds.

Thorn(C), Stone(C), Thire(C), Hound(SGT), Rys, Jek

[clinicafaidigi]

Best Puffy Eyelid Treatment in Hyderabad

A beautiful day starts when you get up and see your glowing face and beautiful eyes. No one wants to see puffy eyes staring back at them.

Dr Shubhra Goel, internationally renowned Oculofacial Plastic Surgeon, says that puffy eyes or eye bags are formed when fat or fluid accumulates around the eyes. For fluid collection, you can try home remedies to avoid puffy eyelids, like applying cucumber or cotton dipped in rose water over closed eyes. But if there are underlying structural changes, one has to get them treated by a specialist. Please note that puffy eyes are different from swollen eyes which are typically caused by allergies and infection.

Dr Goel is an expert with extensive experience in the surgical correction of puffy eyes. This surgery is known as Blepharoplasty.

In this blog, you will get to know about the best puffy eyelids treatment in Hyderabad.

Why do puffy eyelids happen anyway?

Do you know that skin around the eyes is the most sensitive? Hence, any excessive accumulation of fluid/ fat gives the eyes a puffy appearance.

Some common causes of fat and fluid accumulation are:-

Excessive salt intake

Allergies

Sinusitis

Smoking and alcohol intake

Ageing, since the fatty tissue begins to pooch out and become prominent and fill in spaces below the eye

Genetic factors

Eye infections

Medical conditions such as thyroid, renal diseases and hypertension

What is the patient's experience with puffy eyes/eye bags?

While lifestyle changes can reduce the prominence of dark circles, they can not entirely remove them unless the underlying root cause is addressed. Some ways to reduce the appearance are:

regularise your sleep routine,

limit screen time if possible, especially before going to bed

minimise caffeine and salt intake

practise meditation and eye exercises

hydrate yourself

have a healthy lifestyle in terms of body, mind, and soul.

What are the best homemade treatments for dark circles under the eyes?

Patients with this condition complain of:

Looking old, tired, drunk and sad

Feeling or looking sick and unwell

Difficulty in wearing glasses due to excessive fat

Limited field of vision due to lateral hooding of skin along with the upper lids

Are there any home remedies for puffy eyes?

When it is purely due to fluid collection, the following remedies may work:

Ice packs- wrap ice in a cloth and apply over puffy eyes

Cucumber slices or cold tea bags

Decrease the salt intake in food

Potassium eliminates excess fluids in the body, so eat potassium-rich foods like bananas

Abstain from alcohol and smoking

Surgical correction of Puffy eyes

When the puffy eyes are mainly due to fat collection, the correction can be done only by a surgical procedure called Blepharoplasty. It is of two types: while addressing the puffiness along the upper lids, which can also lead to baggy eyelids, it is called upper lid blepharoplasty. The lower lid bags are removed by lower lid blepharoplasty.

The basic steps of both surgeries are-

An incision is made along the natural creases of lids

Any excess amount of skin is removed

The prolapsed fat is sculpted or redraped

The incision is closed

The surgery takes typically 45 mins to 1 hour. It can be done under local anaesthesia with sedation or general anaesthesia for patients who are anxious. The patient generally does not feel any pain, but she may be aware of touch and pressure around the eyes. There are no major complications if done by experts, but in the end, one has to be ready for the realistic expectations.

Post-operative care is essential. Take a break from work, avoid rubbing the eyes, avoid going outside until your doctor gives an OK. The experienced surgical staff at Clinica Fai will guide you throughout the procedure until you see satisfactory results.

In Summary

While there are many reasons for puffy eyes, most of them are easily treatable. With advanced eyelid surgery techniques, you can regain your beautiful eyes in a simple outpatient procedure. At Clinica Fai, we take a personal interest in every patient. Initially, through video consultation, we completely understand your concerns. Then as per your chosen time and date, an appointment is fixed and treatment is offered at a partner clinic of choice and convenience. Reach us by emailing atcontact@clinicafai.comor calling at +916281117454.

[amatchinwater]

I Know What You Want from Me (part 2) | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: There's a lot of fluff...like, a lot of fluff. Kinda sorry, but also not lol. Eddie takes you home after your time in the woods and takes care of you as promised. Then your relationship blooming with one another to fulfill a much needed sweet tooth. Flash forward to finding out if Eddie graduates or not after you helped tutor him.

Warnings: 18+, drug use, sexual content (no condom, reader on the pill), fingering, oral (f receiving, m mentioned), spanking, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, mentions of your parents (but no interaction cause found family), a very cheesy date, what could again be seen as subspace if you squint, slight dom!Eddie (again, if you squint real hard), I think that's it (let me know otherwise)

Words: 8997

a/n: I know Nothing Else Matters didn't come out until '91, but let's just pretend it was earlier. Okay? Okay, lol. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. I'm still reeling over the love for I Know What You Want From Me. I just- it's crazy and I'm super grateful that you guys liked it to much. Every single note put a smile on my face. I appreciate all of you! Thank you 💚

Requests are open. Masterlist. Part one

Not my gif!! Credit to creator!!

You fell asleep in the passenger seat with a can of pringles and a half drunk bottle of water in your lap. Eddie had you curled up in his seat with him for a few minutes once you’d reached his van, making sure you actually drank some of the water before your heavy eyes lost their battle to stay open. He rubbed soothing strokes along your back, peppering kisses in your hair, while you consumed the liquid that tasted like pure heaven to your fucked out senses. 

As fuzzy as your brain still was, the incredibly sweet nature in which he treated you after fucking your brains out made your heart practically sing in your chest. If you hadn’t already loved Eddie, you’d have fallen for him right on the spot. Him trying to coax you awake is just as soft and sweet, but you want nothing to do with it. Pinching your eyes closed to try and will yourself back into unconsciousness. 

“Come on, princess,” Eddie gently shakes your shoulder, trying to wake you up. You just groan in response, your head lolling to the side as you squint your eyes open at him. Sleeping for another several hours definitely sounds ideal right now. “Okay, I get it,” he chuckles under his breath, reaching over you to click open your seatbelt. Looping an arm around your neck and under your knees, Eddie scoops you up into his arms, kicking the car door closed behind him. “I believe m’lady requested food and a bath.”

“Now why would I go and say a stupid thing like that?” You grumble, curling into his neck, a contented sigh rushing through your nose. Even the slight sweat mixing in with his scent is comforting because it’s him. 

Eddie laughs at you, carrying you up the steps to the trailer, “because you needed them. Wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” He holds you tightly to him for balance so he can open the front door, “if my girl asks for something, she gets it.” His use of ‘my girl’ unleashes a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You’re not sure you’ll ever get over hearing it now that it’s for real.

“Well, now I’m asking for sleep,” you tease, hoping it will work. 

It doesn’t. 

“Nice try, princess,” Eddie kisses the top of your head as your traitorous stomach growls. “But you should really eat something…and uh,” he laughs smugly, moving into the kitchen, “your pants are kind of soaked.” 

“Okay, that’s fai-”

“What the hell happened to you, darlin’?” Wayne’s voice cuts you off and you lift your tired head to look at him. 

A violent blush burns your cheeks because what the fuck are you supposed to tell him? 

Good thing Eddie’s always looking out for you. “Someone here thought it’d be a good idea to defend your devious nephew from some jocks. Cracked ‘em a few times with a baseball bat she apparently owns.” Wayne’s eyes grow comically large. “Yeah, same,” Eddie remarks on his uncle’s reaction. “She got a little-” he seems to ponder his word choice, “-shaky once the adrenaline wore off from kicking the shit out of Jason and his goons.” 

Wayne seems only partially convinced as he takes in your disheveled hair, the still hazy look in your eyes, and the litany of marks on your neck. “Should I be worried about the police stopping by?” He grabs his lunchbox and keys off the kitchen counter, walking towards the front door. 

“Nah,” Eddie snorts, “I think Jason would be too scared of invoking her wrath again if he did that.” 

Eddie’s uncle nods, turning the knob and opening the door, “oh, and Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” He stops halfway down the hall, you still in his arms wanting to very much pass back out.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, let's not have any mini Eddie’s running around just yet, yeah?” 

Embarrassment wracks your frame and you groan, shoving your head into Eddie’s neck to hide the violent blush on your cheeks. Eddie lets out a hearty cackle, “we were careful!” He swears, carrying you into the bathroom when the front door closes. “Okay, princess,” Eddie sets you down on the closed toilet seat to start the bath for you while you take your shoes off. Filling it generously, your favorite scented soap floods the room, steam rising from the heat. Just the way you like it. “I’m gonna go make you something to eat, okay?” 

You pause with your shirt halfway over your head. “No, wait,” you grab his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “You’re not going to stay with me?” You can’t help the pout even if you wanted to. Being away from Eddie is the last thing you want right now. 

“Well,” Eddie smiles softly at you, “you just want me to sit in here with you…” he trails off, lips curling into a wider grin. “Or do you want me in the tub?” 

“In the tub,” you respond without a second thought. That sounds fucking perfect. Cuddling up in the bath together while he just holds you? Sign you the fuck up. You’re fully capable of taking a bath by yourself. But, well, you want Eddie. You don’t really feel as fuzzy as before, but having him close to you seems like the best thing for you. “I don’t mean to be needy, but I just reall-”

“Woah, hey,” he cups your cheeks, “you’re not being needy, sweetheart. I asked you what you needed before we even left the woods for a reason. So if some physical contact is what you need, then I’m more than happy to give it to you, okay?” You nod, reveling at just how lucky you are to have Eddie. “Okay, let me get something in the oven at least, and then I’ll come back and join you,” Eddie offers, petting your hair to calm you back down. “Sound good?” 

“Thank you,” you offer a small smile. 

“Always, princess,” Eddie looks at you seriously, “always.” With one last kiss placed on your lips, he walks out of the bathroom. 

Waiting until you hear clanking in the kitchen, you discard the rest of your clothes. Practically needing to peel your now tacky jeans from your skin. If you weren’t so ready to fall back to sleep, you’d be a little more disgusted about it. But even then, you probably wouldn’t be. Because it’s just literal proof of having been with Eddie. That that beautiful, wonderful man is yours. Properly this time. 

You dip your toes into the warm water, sitting into the tub with a loud groan. Yeah, this is just what the doctor ordered. The bath is doing wonders at soothing your sore muscles and sensitive pussy. There’s a few bruises on your hips that make you smile, surely- hopefully- your neck matches. He’d really done a number on you and you didn’t even realize it. But fucking hell was it worth it. You quickly turn the water off before it can get too full and stretch out, leaning your head against the tile wall. 

Humming a pleased sigh, you close your eyes. Perfect. It’s absolutely perfect. The only thing that could make it better-

“We’ve got about forty minutes until dinner’s ready,” Eddie places a timer on the sink, his jacket and vest left in the kitchen. He rubs his hands together, kicking off his shoes, “time for some T.L.C.” You watch him through tired eyes as he takes the rest of his clothes off, realizing that this is actually the first time you get to see him naked. Something Eddie must realize too, cooing, “that’s right,” slowing the movements of unclasping his belt, “you want a show, princess?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle. 

“Yes, please,” your eyes fixating on him, propping your head on your elbow. 

Eddie’s belt comes off with a flourish, extending his arm he promptly drops it to the floor. When his fingers curl into the hem of his shirt, you giggle again as his hips sway to a beat in his head, lifting the fabric over his torso. Good, god, he’s beautiful. Covered in more tattoos than you thought, proven when his pants shimmy down his legs revealing more ink than taking off his shirt had. The moment is broken completely when you see just how caked his boxers are to his skin and you cackle. 

“Hey,” he chuckles, “that’s all your fault.” Eddie grins devilishly at the scarlett hue of your cheeks. “It’ll wash out,” he assures you, winking, “then you can do it all over again.” Eddie’s eyes never leave yours as he peels the fabric off, lowering them to his ankles. Leaving himself exposed in all of his glory as he toes out of them. Your half awake mind barely finds the strength to not drool over him. Even soft, he’s by no means small. “See something you like, princess?” 

His voice snaps you out of your trance, “huh? Oh- uh,” you blush hotly, “I’m, um- you’re just-” you narrow your eyes, pinching your mouth closed to stop yourself from saying something stupid. Or to just stop the babbling that was surely about to start. 

“Easy, pretty,” Eddie steps closer, gently leaning you forward to tuck himself behind you in the bathtub, “I was only teasing. You’re cute when you get flustered is all,” he pulls you back against his chest, his ring clad hand tenderly brushing your arm. “This what my girl needed?” Eddie asks, wrapping his other arm around your torso to keep you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

You can only hum in response, your head resting against his chest. A content sigh leaving your lips as the hand on your arm trails to your stomach. The strokes of his fingers are still delicate and sweet, but there must be magic or something in those fingertips because when he teases farther down- no devious intention in mind, just aimlessly touching you- your breath hitches in your throat.

“And here I thought you’d be done, sweet thing. You were so fucked out you passed out in the van,” he chuckles in your ear. “I didn’t mean anything by it, but if you want more,” Eddie brushes a little lower, teasing at the curls of hair before coming back up, “all you have to do is ask.” The words are kissed into the side of your neck, flaring goosebumps despite the heat of the water and the body against your back. 

“Eddie,” you whisper out a whine. 

“Hmm?” He hums, still peppering your neck with kisses, continuing to dip his fingers enough to make warmth pool in your gut, but not nearly as low as you want them to be. Already need them to be. His voice drops sensually thick, “you want something, princess?” 

“T-touch me,” your breath stilts once more, “please.” 

“I am touching you,” he gives a love bite to your pulse, circling his finger around your folds, causing you to moan and your legs to spread as much as the tub will allow. You whine a groan in frustration when Eddie pulls his hand back again, leaving you needy and throbbing, walls clenching around a finger that hasn’t even gone inside you yet. “Alright,” he chuckles again, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you really wanted to do this. I wasn’t exactly gentle earlier. Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.” 

He doesn’t give you even a chance to worry that he’s changing his mind, fingers pushing past the tuft of hair, circling with pressure on your clit. You moan, head digging into his chest as you try to throw it back from the sensation. You feel like a live wire. Ready to spark at any given moment. To be put back together by the same skilled hand making you fall apart so beautifully. “Eddie,” you gasp, two fingers plunge deep inside making you see stars at his expert finding of the bundle of nerves inside of you. 

“That’s my girl,” Eddie groans in your ear, feeling your pussy clench around him as he pumps faster, harder. Building your orgasm at a rate that whitens your vision and your hands dig crescent moons into his thighs. “Come on, princess. Squeeze that pretty pussy. I can feel how close you are,” he purrs in your ear, licking over another bite on your neck. 

Electricity crackles through your limbs, legs shaking with the exertion of your orgasm winding tightly inside you. Begging to snap, release the floodgates like a cracked dam. Your clit throbs almost painfully with the need to be touched. “Shit,” you gasp under your breath. “Eddie, Eddie, fuck-” you moan, writhing in his lap, “please.” 

“So pretty like this,” Eddie praises. “So pretty,” he repeats, pressing his palm into your throbbing clit and that throws you over the edge. Pinching your eyes closed and crying out from your orgasm as your pussy spasms around Eddie’s fingers. “Good girl,” he drawls, slowing his thrusts to gentle you through it. But not really stopping, keeping the fire licking inside. “Got another one for me?” Eddie asks, curling into the spongy part of you, making you shake, “whaddya say, princess? One more? Or are you too sensitive now?”

“Eddie,” your breathless voice echoes in the small room, “please, I-” want another one? Can’t take any more? You don’t know, but your hips grind into his hand otherwise, the way his fingers keep brushing against that sweet spot inside of you has you teetering towards another orgasm like the first one didn’t just happen. So you just whisper, “please,” again, grinding down.

 The hand around your waist moves up so that Eddie can place a hold on your exposed throat, rings biting into your skin. “My fucking girl,” he groans, working his fingers in your cunt faster until you’re gasping for breaths, eyes fluttering with their struggle to stay open. “That’s right,” Eddie nearly growls in your ear, “always got just one more for me, right?” 

You don’t process that him saying always like this isn’t the literal second time he’s had his hands on you. Because you couldn’t care less. You don’t plan on going anywhere and know for damn certain that he’s absolutely right. As long as it’s Eddie doing it, you’ll always have one more in you. Not that you can really voice that right now, the water from the tub splashing with Eddie’s efforts and your eyes roll back, everything releasing at once. “Eddie,” his name, a screamed moan from your lips as your cunt convulses while you come. 

This time, Eddie slows his fingers, easing you through your orgasm with soft kisses behind your ear. His thumb stroking lovingly at your erratic pulse, whispering, “you did so good, princess, so good. Thank you,” another kiss to your temple this time as he pulls his fingers out. “Now, you just relax,” he says, getting your hair wet, “and let Eddie take care of you, sweetheart.” 

Even still in the post bliss of your orgasm, you sit up and giggle, “did you just talk about yourself in the third person?”

“Sure did,” Eddie quips, uncapping the bottle of shampoo to wash your hair. “Problem?” He teases, lathering the soap in and you let out a sigh, eyes drooping shut from the tender intimacy. When all you offer is a hum in the way of an answer, Eddie chuckles through his nose, working on getting you clean. Once satisfied with both of your cleanliness, he gets out of the tub, quickly drying off so he can wrap you in a towel of your own. 

The pair of you dry your hair off before going into his room. You dig through your underwear drawer, trying to find a pair comfortable enough to sleep in when Eddie kisses your shoulder. “Something tells me,” he rests his chin where his lips had just been, “these will be much more comfortable than any of the panties you own. As pretty as they all are.” 

Turning to face him, you see he’s holding a Rob Zombie t-shirt and a pair of his plaid boxers. “Why, Mr. Munson,” you cross your arms to your chest in faux annoyance, “how would you know what all of my panties look like? Has someone been snooping?”

Eddie snorts, “no. You’ve been living here for months, I’ve seen you do your laundry more than once.” You cock an eyebrow, playing unamused. You really don’t care if he’d gotten curious and peeped in your underwear drawer. “Okay, fine. I might have taken a peak in your underwear drawer. Should I be sorry about that?” 

Shaking your head you laugh, “I don’t care, Eds. You did the same thing when we were younger too. I’m not really surprised. Besides,” you playfully snatch the clothes from him, winking, “you’ll see them all on me sooner or later.” 

“Can you please wear the red ones next time? Please,” Eddie asks, unashamed of himself, massive grin on his face over pleading, puppy dog eyes.

Your lips curl around the edges, “I’ll wear the whole set.” Patting his cheek lightly, you walk away and drop the towel. 

“There’s a whole set?” Eddie exclaims and another laugh bubbles in your chest. 

“So you didn’t go through everything?” You tease, tugging on the boxers and shirt, plopping down on the mattress. 

Yanking his own Slayer shirt over his head, “no,” Eddie rebukes. “That’d be weird,” he says, grabbing the wooden box off his dresser while you shake your head fondly at him. “Care to join me?” He shakes the box, sitting down beside you. 

“That sounds perfect,” you say, excitedly sitting up and bunching a pillow in your lap. When your shoulders brush, a strange sense of calm and giddiness tangles in your stomach. Being with Eddie feels natural, no longer strained like it was when you were trying to hide your feelings for him. But now? With the cat out of the bag and absolutely purring, your heart does several funny things in your chest, bringing a slight tinge to your cheeks. 

It’s nice. 

“Yes!” Eddie’s legs bounce in their criss-cross position when he opens the tin and finds two joints, rolled and ready to go. “I thought I had rolled extra the last time we smoked,” he purses his lips, tilting his head down to look at you, “but we were also pretty high.” Eddie breaks off in a laugh that you can’t help but giggle along to. “I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it or not,” he takes out one of the joints and a lighter, closing the tin and tossing it on the mattress. “Glad I didn’t.” 

“Me too, Mr. Munson,” you tease, swiping the rolled paper on its way to his mouth, placing it in yours instead. 

Mock offense flashes on Eddie’s face before all he can do is smile wide and lovingly at you. “Slippery, little minx, aren’t you, princess?” He shakes his head with a laugh, flicking the lighter on and extending the flame for you. “I’m sure you need it after today,” Eddie muses while you focus on lighting the joint and taking a long drag once properly lit. “How are you feeling, by the way?” 

“I’m fine, Eddie,” you say, holding the smoke in your lungs. Exhaling, you smile, “I promise. I’m a little sore, but,” you wave the joint, “you’re helping with that. The bath was really nice too,” playfully nudging his knee, you take another hit. “The fuzziness is gone now too. I’d tell you if I wasn’t or if there was anything else I needed,” you assure him and the tension finally pulls out of his forehead. 

Satisfied with your answer, Eddie holds his hand out for the joint which you gladly hand over, leaning into him. Placing the rolled paper between his lips, Eddie takes a drag, maneuvering his arm around you, his other hand pulling your legs into his lap. “Much better, baby,” he exhales the smoke, brushing his nose with yours. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this with you.” 

Taking the joint back from him, you giggle already feeling the effects of your first big hit. Before taking another, you state, “we’ve smoked together plenty of times.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” he replies, laughing softly at the coughing fit your much too big drag conjured. He leans down to kiss your head, rubbing your calf. “I meant not having to pretend like I don’t want to be touching you every second that I’m around you. That I actually get to hold you now. It’s ni-” the timer in the bathroom dings, cutting him off. “That’ll be the food,” he pats your leg and you groan. “Unless you want to eat burnt lasagna, I suggest you let me up, sweetheart.” 

Grumbling, you lift your legs off his lap, pulling another hit into your lungs and handing the almost burnt paper back to Eddie. Pinching it carefully in his fingers, he kisses your forehead, throwing himself off the bed to go get your dinner. Good thing too. Because as much as you didn’t want the warmth of Eddie to go away, your stomach rumbles violently in demand of meat and cheesy goodness. 

—

“Would you play for me?” You lift your head a bit from his thigh, his fingers still gently stroking your hair. Belly full of lasagna and weed, a song from Eddie is the perfect thing to send you back off to dreamland. 

The peaceful grin of his face widens to a full on smile, opening his eyes and ducking his chin to look at you. “Sure thing, princess,” Eddie offers you one last scratch before coaxing you out of his lap. While he grabs his acoustic guitar, you curl up with a pillow, waiting patiently. “Any requests?” Eddie asks, sitting down beside you, guitar in his lap. 

“Whatever you want, Eddie,” you smile, humming softly to yourself as you nuzzle into the bed. “Something soft though,” you decide, wanting to be able to fall asleep to it. 

Eddie chews his lip for a minute, before strumming all the strings, “I know just the thing. One of your favorites if I’m not mistaken,” he sets to tuning the guitar to where he wants it before playing. It takes you a couple of seconds to realize what he’s playing for you. 

A cheesy, high induced, Eddie centered smile plasters itself to your face as his fingers pluck away Nothing Else Matters by Metallica. By far the softest song they’ve ever written. But it was meant for Hetfield’s girlfriend. To prove to her that while he was away on tour, he loved and missed her. It makes your eyes water with happy tears that this is the song Eddie chose to play for you. 

You’re about to tell him exactly how sweet he is, but Eddie starts to hum and very softly sing the lyrics to you and your heart stutters in your chest before swelling about four sizes too big. So rather than interrupt him, you curl closer, careful not to bump his arm strumming the guitar and let your eyes drift closed. The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest shrouding you like a blanket. It’s perfect. Eddie’s perfect. And you couldn’t ask for anything better. 

—

“Come on, Eddie, you can do this!” You encourage him from where you’re sitting on the bed. Eddie’s on the floor in front of you drowning in text books and papers. “You managed to pull yourself up to a C in her class! I know you can do this, baby, you’re just getting in your head.” Looking over his shoulder, you see he’s still stuck on the same problem from ten minutes ago. “Remember, what you do to one side-”

“You have to do to the other,” Eddie finishes your sentence with a sigh. “I know, you’ve ingrained that into my brain, princess. The execution, however, could use a little work. I keep getting the wrong answer,” he grumbles, hastily erasing the work he’d done to start over. 

Sitting up, you bracket him with your legs, rubbing his shoulders, “one wrong answer isn’t going to fail you, Eds.” Because checking his paper again, every prior answer is correct. “O’Donnell was kind enough to give out the exam beforehand so everyone could properly study. And Eds, you’re doing great!” Muttering something under his breath, he turns his head, nipping at your thigh. You squeal, wiggling your legs around him, his hair tickling the abused flesh. “I’m serious! This one equation can kick rocks because you’ve gotten all the others right so far. How about you skip it and go back to it later?” 

“Can’t we do something else?” Eddie whines, his hands coming up to your calves. “I’m going crazy over here, sweetheart.” 

“How about this,” you plop down on the floor beside him, “you finish this and then we can do whatever you want. Okay? Wrong answers or not and we’ll try again later. But I want to see you working Eddie, not filling in random answers to get out of this.”

“But-”

“Eddie, I want to graduate with you,” you tell him softly. You’re not wanting him to feel like he’s being guilted into this. But it’s the truth, you want to watch him walk that stage in the same stupid cap and gown you’ll be wearing. “You’ve worked so hard to get your grades up and you’re doing an amazing job. Principal Higgins deserves you flipping him off,” you jab him with your elbow, trying to get him to smile. 

He does you one better, snickering with a wide grin on his face. “You make a damn good point, princess.” Eddie picks his pencil back up, pausing over the paper, “anything I want?” 

Unsure of what you’re agreeing to, you smile and nod, “anything you want.” 

—

You had honestly thought that when Eddie gave you that devious grin that it was dripping with sexual connotations. It wasn’t. Apparently anything Eddie wants means going to the arcade in town for a cute little date together. After spring break and with summer coming up, Eddie’s been dealing a lot more lately. Meaning he’s had a lot more cash to spare. So more dates have been occurring lately and you’re hardly complaining. 

While your parents haven’t asked for the money back, you also haven’t touched it either. You got a job at the video store with Robin and Steve. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you guys by and not have to change anything about your lifestyle. You’re keeping the money from your parents as a safety net. Or if you and Eddie wanted to get a place of your own. Or- not that you’ve mentioned it- if he wants to pursue a career in music, it’s more than enough of a cushion to get you whatever you might need for it. With half of his band still having a year of school left, if you need to stay in Hawkins, you can. 

“I figured whatever you wanted would involve a lot less clothes,” you tease as he opens the door to the arcade for you. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eddie places a hand at the small of your back, leaning into your ear, “that’ll be when we get back home.” His laugh is sensual and it sends a shiver down your spine at the promise of his hands on you again. “What do you want to play first?” 

“Donkey Kong is open!” You exclaim, running over to the game to make sure that it stays that way. 

Eddie just laughs at your antics, “I’ll go get us some tokens,” he kisses your shoulder as he passes by to the counter. When he comes back, his jacket pocket is jingling loudly, “ladies first,” he smiles, producing a golden coin for you. 

You both take turns, trying to help one another out when you don’t notice a barrel coming your way or an enemy. Elatedly cheering each other on when you survive to the next level. Even when you move onto Galaga, it’s the same. You’d never really considered how much fun it would be to just play games together. It’s always been fun to watch movies, so this really isn’t all that different. 

“Ooo, ouch,” Eddie winces when a block of spaceships crashes into you, blowing up your little fighter ship. “How about,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, turning you towards the row of skee-ball machines, “we play something for tickets? You can let me show off,” he winks at you, poking your nose so you giggle. “That way I can win you whatever prize you want, like a proper date.” 

“Eddie, I’m no good at that game,” you pout, Mrs. Pac-Man calling your name. “I won’t be able to play with you.” 

“Lucky for you,” he guides you over to an empty game, “I’m very good at skee-ball.” Eddie hugs you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck before pulling a token from his pocket and sliding in into the slot. “I promise you, princess, any prize you want.” You want to protest that he doesn’t have to win anything for you for tonight to be proper. That is until he picks up the first ball and it glides right into the top corner pocket and your jaw drops. “Told ya,” Eddie winks at you, another ball effortlessly following the first. 

Eddie has the game cheer ‘new high score’ after his first round. Only to play it a second time and have it cheer for him again. The smile on your face aches, thoroughly proud of him and overjoyed at how happy he seems. The amount of tickets he wins is startling if not intimidating and you struggle to keep them in order. 

“Let’s go see those prizes,” he shakes the massive amount of tickets, earning a giggle from you. Looping your arm in his, you let him guide you back towards the counter. “What’ll it be, M'Lady?” 

Nothing in the cases really catches your attention, so you look at the wall of stuffed animals and your eyes light up. “That,” you say, pointing towards a giant purple and green dragon breathing fire. Then you see how many tokens it’s worth, it’s the third highest amount, “think you have enough?” 

He snorts, “oh yeah. ‘Scuse me?” Eddie gets the attention of the teenager behind the counter, “she’ll take the dragon, please.” 

The girl takes the tickets and starts feeding them into a machine to count them. After grabbing the dragon down and handing it to you, she says, “you still have four hundred tickets left over. Anything else you guys want?” 

“Can I pick this time?” Eddie asks, not even looking at you, gaze fixated on something in the cases you can’t see. 

“Of course,” you smile, cuddling with your giant stuffed animal. “You won the tickets, after all.” 

“Those, please,” Eddie points towards the glass and between your dragon and his shoulder blocking the angle, you’re not sure what he’s chosen. “Thank you,” he smiles, taking a small black box from the girl. Leaning on the counter, Eddie faces you, biting his lip, “open it,” he instructs, holding it out for you. 

Stuffing as much of the creature in your arms as you can, you grab the box, opening it to find two rings inside of it. One a massive dragon head that looks similar to the one you’re holding, and a smaller one with a purple orb being held by a scaly, clawed hand. “Eddie,” you whisper, overwhelmingly happy about the sheer corniness of the situation. But so fucking in love with him for doing it for you that you don’t even care. 

It’s cheesy as all hell, but that’s what makes it so sweet. 

“Well,” he smiles, curling his shoulder with a shy grin, “for one, they match your dragon. Two,” Eddie wraps an arm around the small of your back, bringing you as close as your stuffed animal will allow, “think of it as a placeholder until I can get you a real one.” 

You let out an exaggerated gasp, “why Eddie Munson, are you proposing to me?” You break off in a fit of giggles. Knowing that he’s mentioned on occasion more than once that he plans to marry you one day. It’s just fun to tease him every now and then. “I love it, Eds,” you smile warmly, pulling the dragon head ring out of the box. “May I?” You fight your smile, but it splits your lips when he sheepishly offers you his right hand, the one with free space for a band that size. 

When you slip the ring on his middle finger, Eddie’s brown eyes sparkle. “Now yours,” he takes the other ring out, sliding it on the proper finger and hand, pinching the adjustor so it stays in place. “Perfect,” Eddie strokes the back of your hand, lifting it to kiss your knuckles. “What does the lady say to grabbing some milkshakes and heading home?” 

Tucking the dragon under your arm, you loop your free arm around Eddie’s, leaning into him. “Sounds great,” you lean in with a smile. 

Eddie is happy to acquiesce your request for a kiss before dessert. 

—

“He should be here any minute,” you rub your temples with your eyes pinched closed. Telling Dustin for what feels like the thousandth time that Eddie is on his way. You're curled up in his throne before the start of their last Hellfire campaign. Last session they came all the way to the precipice of the final monster, but it was very late and the younger ones have curfews. It’s also the last day of finals for seniors. 

Eddie finds out whether or not he graduates today. Mrs. O’Donnell’s class holds his future in the palm of her hand. You’re trying not to be worried about the fact that Eddie isn’t here yet. Anxiety tickling your brain that he’d received bad news and doesn’t want to face you guys. He’s not necessarily late. But in Eddie fashion, he’s always the first one here. So with everyone but him surrounding the table, you’re not the only one wondering where he might be. 

What his head space is right now. 

Okay, you’re worried. But you’re not going to let the group know that. 

“Okay, but if Eddie didn’t graduate-” 

“Jeff!” You scold his name, cutting the teen off. “You and I didn’t have as much on the line as Eddie did, okay? We graduated,” you drop your hands, opening your eyes to look at him, “maybe he’s just excited and taking a minute to collect himself. He still has time to get here.” 

Mike thinks it’s a good idea to press the issue further, “but he’s never late. Ever.” 

“And he still isn’t,” you huff out a breath. 

“We just care about him,” Dustin offers, finally seeming like he’s settling in his seat. 

“I know. And he cares about you guys too, whether he admits it or not,” you smile at them, Gareth nodding in agreement with you. “He’ll be here.” 

As if you’d summoned him yourself, the door bursts open and Eddie walks in. “Sorry guys,” his face painfully expressionless. No sign of joy from graduating or anger from having not. Like a goddamn enigma. “Had some things to take care of,” Eddie crosses the room, scooping you up in his arms, taking your seat and placing you in his lap. “Missed you, pretty,” he whispers in your ear, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Ready to start?” 

Dustin makes a strangled noise, Mike gesturing wildly. 

“Dude,” Gareth raises his hands, “are you gonna tell us or not?” 

“Can’t a man just sit here with his girl in his lap and play a game with his friends? I don’t want to talk about school right now,” Eddie says and your eyebrows furrow. 

That doesn’t seem like a very good sign. 

“We’re just excited for you, Eds,” you try to gently coax him into answering. 

"It's our last campaign before I have to write a new one. Come on,” Eddie draws out the word with a whine. 

"No, seriously, Eddie. Tell us,” Dustin pushes harder than you. 

Fishing into his jacket pocket, Eddie pulls out the same blue paper you and Jeff received a few hours ago. Your final report cards. Slamming the paper on the table without jolting you too badly, Eddie yells, “I graduated!” Causing cheers to erupt in the room while he cackles loudly. 

“I’m so proud of you, Eddie,” you tug the collar of his jacket in your excitement, yanking him in for a kiss. “Told you you could do it,” you whisper against his mouth right before the rest of the group crashes into the chair. All reaching out to congratulate their dungeon master on finally graduating. 

Needless to say, it was a late start to the campaign. But none of you were complaining with the bonding and amount of happiness permeating the room. To top it all off, the boys won their campaign.

—

Getting Eddie ready to graduate was one thing. Getting Eddie ready for graduation is a whole different beast, not even the blow job on the way here was enough to get him to relax. You’re not even remotely surprised that he isn’t dressing up for it. Honestly, you’d be a little concerned if he had. He did, in his version of dressing nicely, found his least ripped pair of jeans and the least faded band tee he owns to wear under his cap and gown. Eddie was very displeased that his leather jacket wouldn’t fit under the dark green garment. 

“I look ridiculous,” he hisses, clutching the cap in his hand as you two make your way towards the gym. Thankfully, your graduating class is small enough that you don’t have to sit outside in the heat for the ceremony. All the kids fit on one side, friends and family on the other, and the stage set up on the basketball court. 

“I think you look very handsome,” you tease lightly, yanking a lock of his curls to get him to smile. Eddie mostly does, though he rolls his eyes at you while doing it. “You don’t believe me? Green is definitely your color. Very sexy.” 

“Far from it, princess,” he takes a shaky breath and you finally realize that he’s nervous. “You on the other hand,” Eddie’s arm snakes around your waist, leaning into your ear and dropping his tone, “I could just eat you up right here.” 

Blushing, you decide to exude more confidence to hopefully quell his nerves. “Maybe later,” you wink at him, turning to kiss neck, loving the way he groans under his breath. Reaching the bleachers with other teens all in their caps and gowns, it’s time to leave Eddie, “got me with you, Munson,” you ask, lifting the clawed orb in your finger. 

Tension melts from his shoulders and Eddie shows you his own hand, the beautiful dragon head glinting at you, “and I’ve got you, princess.” Eddie gives you one last kiss before you both head to your respective sections outlined with the letters for your last names. 

Sitting in alphabetical order, you’re not nearly as close to Eddie as you’d like to be. The way your section works, you just so happen to be sitting in the front row, toes tapping against the gym floor. When your name is called and you walk the stage, your eyes fan over the crowd and you’re honestly not surprised to find that your parents aren’t sitting in the bleachers with everyone else’s. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a bit. Until your gaze falls on Wayne and the Hellfire club. Eddie’s uncle smiles at you from across the room, giving you a small wave. It warms your heart knowing that they’re here for you just as much as they are for Eddie. 

That the people who matter are here for you. 

It’s enough to put a smile on your face, Eddie yelling loudly from the bleachers only amplifies it. A shouted, “that’s my girl” falling from his lips, making you blush, but you blow him a kiss nonetheless. One he catches, placing on his heart before he sits back down. 

Eddie’s name being called only makes you smile all over again, to the point of hurting your cheeks. You watch your boyfriend make his way up on the stage, green cap obscuring the top of his head. As soon as he gets to Principal Higgins, he does as promised. Snatches his diploma right out of the man’s hand and flips him off. Both you and the boys on the other side of the room jump to your feet, proudly yelling for him. Wayne claps, hollering for his nephew despite the mini scene he’d caused. 

Eddie graduating is more important to Wayne than your boyfriend sticking it to the principal. You haven’t found your seat yet, still standing and clapping when Eddie bounds off the stage, diploma in hand, he races over to you. 

“You did it,” you barely manage to get out before he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground, spinning you around as he kisses you fiercely. “I’m so proud of you,” you tell him when Eddie breaks the kiss, keeping your toes dangling in the air. 

“I had a good tutor,” he whispers, giving you a softer kiss before sitting in your spot and pulling you in his lap. No one says a word about it and thankfully the girls on either side of you don’t seem bothered by it either. At least, they don’t show it on their faces if they are. “Thank you, princess,” Eddie hugs his hands around your middle while you wait for the ceremony to be over. 

Leaning into his hold, you slide your hand under the sleeve of his gown, stroking his arm, “you’re welcome, Eds.”

—

By the time you, Eddie, and Wayne get home from a celebration dinner with your friends, it’s time for his shift to start. Caps and gowns long since tossed into the back of his van. Your simple black sundress with red flowers on it hugging you without feeling like you’re suffocating anymore. 

Wayne pulls Eddie into a firm hug, “I’m proud of you, son,” his voice sounding thick with emotion. He might be a little rough around the edges like his nephew, but Wayne has raised Eddie. The only thing that makes Eddie not his actual son is semantics. Wayne is the closest thing to a proper father that your boyfriend has ever had. And you know for a fact that his uncle loves Eddie as though he were his own. 

Happy tears sting your eyes from watching them. 

“Thanks Wayne,” Eddie pats his uncle’s back, “for everything.” 

After they release one another, Wayne grabs his lunch box and heads for the door, stopping next to you, “I’m proud of you, too, darlin’. It couldn’t have been easy getting his stubborn ass to graduate.” 

“It absolutely was not,” you laugh. 

“Hey!” Eddie shrieks in offense. 

That only makes you and Wayne laugh harder, the man walking out the door with the biggest smile on his face that you’ve seen in a while. 

“Stubborn ass, huh?” Eddie asks when the front door clicks closed. 

“Well,” you draw out the word, rocking on your feet, teasingly scrunching your face at him, “you did whine a lot whenever we studied.” 

Eddie gasps, hand clutching his chest over his Black Sabbath tee, “how dare you? I did not whine.” 

Keeping your teasing stance, “you kinda did.”

Something in Eddie’s face changes, a flicker of something almost playful flashes over his features. “Okay,” he quips, dropping his hand, stalking over to you. On instinct, you back up, feeling like you’re prey all of a sudden. Holding his hands behind his back, Eddie leans down a bit as he advances. “Pretty sure that out of the two of us,” your back hits the front door, he leans his hands beside your head, nose an inch from yours, “you’re the one who whines, princess.”

Breathing properly is simply not something you’re capable of with him this close. The spicy scent of his cologne intoxicates your mind and washes every thought down the drain. Leaving you utterly useless to anything that doesn’t revolve around the man in front of you. Eddie’s hand comes up to your throat, thumb hooking under your jaw to move you at his will. A gasp escapes your throat when he makes you look at him with the smallest tilt of his thumb. 

“Isn’t that right, pretty?” 

You shake your head no. If you had tried to speak, there’s no way you wouldn’t prove him right. That with as little effort as this, he already has you wanting to whimper and whine for him. It’s ridiculous and you want to feel embarrassed, but there’s a fire in those brown eyes that makes you feel nothing but empowered. You clench your thighs together to try and stow the ache beginning to form between your legs. Hoping that one, it will help, and two, that Eddie won’t notice exactly what he’s doing to you. 

Or that you lied about the noise that is trapped in the back of your throat. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that it doesn’t work. In any sense. Not only does the friction from your thighs make your pussy want even more attention, Eddie noticed immediately. Eyes flicking down the moment you twitched, a devilish grin pulling at his lips. “No?” He asks, not even remotely believing you. 

“N-nope,” you manage to whisper without making any other noise. 

“That so?” He hums, pressing closer, his foot kicks your legs apart, your breath stuttering in your chest. Eddie’s thigh is quick to close the gap, your thin, lace panties the only protection from the harsh material of his denim jeans digging into your pussy. Your eyes flutter closed and a whine escapes your parted lips. “Told you so, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers at the shell of your ear, nipping at your lobe when you do it again, hips bucking against his leg. “Such a pretty noise,” he praises, “come here, princess.”

Eddie’s hands hook around the back of your thighs, lifting you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. The second your hands curl into his hair, Eddie’s lips are on yours, smothering every soft moan with his mouth. How the two of you don’t fall on the way is beyond you, but somehow he manages to get you both in his room and your back hits his mattress. Eddie not once breaking the kiss and his hips slot with yours easily. 

He grinds against you, cunt painfully clenching on nothing, “Eds, please,” you pant into his lips, tongues tangling together. “I can’t-” your hips buck on their own. Eddie slips his hand between you to rub at your pussy, but it’s not enough. You just need him inside you, slamming his hips against yours until you can’t see straight. 

“Whatever you need, princess,” he groans against your mouth. Apparently you’d been talking out loud without realizing it. So long as it gets you what you want, fine by you. Not being able to handle foreplay, Eddie hastily unbuckles his belt, yanking his jeans and boxers off while you hike up your dress. You do your best to get your panties off, you really do, but given Eddie’s chuckle, you're clearly struggling to do so with him still so close. “Poor baby,” he coos, tearing the lace as if it were paper, tossing the scraps to the ground. 

You moan at the sight, more turned on than you know what to do with, watching Eddie with hooded eyes as he grabs his cock, rubbing it through your dripping folds. You whimper, reaching for his arm, trying to guide him inside you faster, thinking he was trying to tease you. 

Far from it.

“Just slicking it up, baby,” Eddie rubs your thigh, thrusting himself inside you in one push of his hips, earning you both a throaty moan. “Can’t hurt my pretty pussy, now can I?” His smirk is as teasing as his tone. Eddie knows how and when to be gentle with you, but more often than not, when you're having sex, it's rough and fast. Whatever it takes to get the two of you off as quickly as possible. 

You don't remark on the jab, his cock filling you up deep inside like you'd craved is all you care about. The mouth sucking a litany of marks on your neck and chest as he sets a pace to make you dizzy. Tingles numbing your toes, fingers digging marks into his sides where you cling to Eddie beneath his shirt. Riding through his harsh thrusts with punched out moans until you're hoarse. 

"Always so tight for me, princess," Eddie moans, your walls clenching around his dick as your orgasm inches closer with the barrage on the bundle of nerves. "You gonna come, sweet thing?" He grunts, ramming his hips into yours that has you convinced there's going to be bruises left behind. 

Moaning wantonly, you nod wildly, head digging into the pillow beneath you. 

Just as you're about to, Eddie hastily pulls out. Your whine of indignation cuts off when his mouth latches onto your fluttering cunt. His nose bumping against your clit, his tongue flicking inside you until you scream, come splashing against his tongue and chin. Eddie groans happily, lapping up all of your release up like he's starved for it. 

"Fuck, you taste amazing," Eddie groans, kissing your sensitive pussy before rushing to claim your mouth in a dirty, bruising kiss. Despite the risk of overstimulation, you tilt your hips, trying to get it cock back inside of you, only to have it glide against you. Groaning in annoyance, your hands slam to the bed. Eddie chuckles at you, "it's okay, pretty, let me help." Laying on his back, Eddie grabs you by your hips, lifting you up to straddle him, sinking you down onto his dick. 

"Shit," you breathe out, the new angle pressing him right against the bundle of nerves beautifully. "Fuck, fuck," your pussy clenches on its own, intensifying the feeling. Placing your hands on his chest, you swivel your hips, moaning prettily for him. 

"That's it, baby, fuck, just like that," Eddie grunts a moan of his own, gripping your hips to help you keep your rhythm. "Not gonna last, pretty," his fingers pinch into your skin, grinding you against him faster, your own hips moving erratically as you chase your release. "Come on, come on my cock so I can fill my pussy up," Eddie's hand cracks against your ass and you cry out, feeling tingly and so goddamn good you smile full of lust. 

"Please, Eddie," you moan, cunt clenching impossibly harder, warmth spreading throughout your body. "Wanna feel it," you whine, hazy eyes falling on his face. His hair sticking to the sides of his face from sweat. The hands on your hips move you faster, the only sounds are both of your moans and the filthy squelch of your pussy. 

Eddie's breath turns labored, his brows pinching together as you flutter around him, head falling back as you come. Trembling through your orgasm, your chest heaves in attempts to get proper air into your lungs. With one last buck of his hips and a husky moan, Eddie spills deep inside of you, filling you to bursting. His come warming you from the inside out with a giddy type of pleasure. Boneless and utterly spent, you slide off of him onto your back, a blissful smile on your face. 

Trying to come back down from your high, you barely register Eddie moving, settling himself between your thighs. Not until his fingers gather the bit of come trying to spill out and he pushes them inside. Whimpering, you halfheartedly try to push his hand away, overstimulated and ready to pass out. "Gotta keep it where it belongs, pretty." Eddie's fingers curl inside you, evoking a moan. The sheer thought of him fucking his come back inside of you stokes the fires once more. 

"Eddie," you pant, fisting into the sheets, eagerly awaiting your last orgasm. 

"Yeah?" He grins up at you, lazily stroking his fingertips against the spongy part of you. "Just one more," Eddie murmurs, his tongue licking your swollen clit. The warmth in your core turns to burning, a stabbing need for release. One Eddie is more than willing to give to you as he pumps his fingers, moaning around your bud. It's the vibration of his moan that does it. 

A broken cry scratches through your vocal cords as you shatter. Falling apart from your orgasm in the best way possible. You nearly white out, spots dancing in your vision. But everything is fuzzy and so fucking good that you just lay there in bliss under Eddie's worship.

Eddie carefully pulls his fingers out, kissing the inside of your thigh sweetly. He leaves you long enough to dash into the bathroom. You half hear the water running and him coming back. But your eyes are too heavy to open them. A warm, wet towel gently wipes you clean, a contented hum vibrating your throat at his care. He gingerly gets you out of your dress only to replace it with the Black Sabbath shirt he’d just been wearing. 

"You did so good, princess," Eddie drops the towel, laying down beside you to pull you into his chest. "So perfect," he praises, kissing your forehead. "Do you need anything? Hungry? Some water?" 

"In a bit," you sigh peacefully. "Just need you." 

Eddie holds you tighter and you can feel his smile on your skin, "you've got me, baby. Always." 

----

Part 2 taglist: if you asked to be tagged, you were, if you asked for a part two, I tagged you as well.

@quixscentsposts @ick90 @underrailed @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @psychobitchsthings @th0rswh0res @wh0reforeddie19 @yogabbagabba17 @theloser007 @urlocalhippie2029 @eddiemnsonsstuff @slutforeddiemunsonnn @victoriacourone @eddiemunsonstoes @baby19sthings @tony-starks-ego @imnotsiriusyouare @drewsgfduh @heyitmelexie

Eddie taglist:

@only4wakingup @decadentpaperduck @wolfhrdds @live-the-fangirl-life @imnotsiriusyouare

a/n x2: There might be a teensy part 3 to this where Eddie takes you to a show for Corroded Coffin after they make it big and proposes? Idk, it's a big maybe because I'm not sure if that's too cheesy or not. Let me know what you think of part 2 and the idea of 3, my loves and thank you again for all of the love and support! Let me know if you want to be added to the Eddie tag list 💚

[timelesslords]

So Under Freezing Stars is finally done 😭I’m incredibly sad it's over but also so happy with the finished product and with the response it's gotten over the past few months <3 

I thought it might be fun to compile some little details about the fic- easter eggs and callbacks to the original books, little thematic details and symbols I included, chapter parallels, stuff like that! Everything is below the cut to avoid spoilers, but hopefully y’all find it fun and it’s an interesting way to top everything off :’) 

Symbolism/Theme

the first time Annabeth drinks nectar, she can’t put a taste to it. This is because she’s in a transitional period with her identity, where she hasn’t quite solidified a sense of home. When she wakes up after being given nectar for the second time, her mouth tastes like apples because her and Perseus had split one together back on the ship. It’s the first food they shared together after she starts associating him with the concept of home, so the nectar takes on that taste. also apples are a sacred fruit of aphrodite so, ya know ;) 

Water plays a big role thematically. There’s the obvious connection to Perseus (whenever Annabeth is looking out into the sea during an unrelated conversation, it’s sort of supposed to indicate that he’s on her mind) but also the more traditional symbolic meanings of water— washing someone/something clean, renewal, rebirth, etc. all of which are themes of the book anyways so it worked out!! Chapters to watch for water symbolism would be 18 and 32 in particular but really anytime there’s an emphasis on the sea

the quote I chose for the epigraph (”Understand this if you understand nothing: it is a powerful thing to be seen”) is from Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi, one of my favorite books! In the context of Freshwater, this quote is when the main character (spoiler) meets someone from their culture who helps them realize they’re a god. It just felt like a particularly perfect way to start off the story, given how many parallels there are to that moment in Freshwater to the entirety UFS. Even without context it frames the story of one of self discovery, but particularly self discovery in tandem with another, which is exactly what I think UFS is about at its core. Freshwater is an incredible book that I owe so much to in terms of inspiring UFS thematically and I def recommend it, though please look up TWs for it beforehand bc it does contain a lot of triggering content.

another more obvious meta thing, the chapter titles switch from Latin to Greek after Annabeth realizes she’s Greek and not Roman 

Chapter Parallels 

 ch20 is called divinity because Annabeth views the sex as akin to a religious awakening— sleeping with her lover is both an act of worship and a revelatory experience wherein she comes to terms with the godly side of her identity. But chapter 33 is called mortal because the thing that makes them special together isn’t necessarily their parentage or their godliness, it’s their humanity. Gods can’t bare their souls to one another because they don’t have one. But mortals— vulnerable and breakable as they are— have that advantage, and when they sleep together the second time Annabeth is fully cognizant and appreciative of that fact.  

The drooling in sleep thing is obviously a callback to the OG books (it’s such an iconic first line I had to include it somehow lol) but it also has a thematic parallel (one that Annabeth actually points out within the narrative). That was one of the first moments she recognized he was human and not some unattainable figure, so it comes back to her later in ch33 when she's thinking about their mortality

In ch14, Piper offers to fix Annabeth’s hair as a peace offering. In ch33, Perseus untangles her hair for her because the idea of doing it herself is overwhelming for her. I just really like the idea of caring for someone else’s hair being an act of love towards that person :’) 

Easter Eggs/OG Book Callbacks

Blackjack asking for fried dough at the end of chapter 4 is a reference to him always asking for donuts in the original books (yes I did google “did they have donuts in ancient rome” for that lol)

The way they fight the hellhound in ch6 (Percy distracting in the front and Annabeth sneaking around the back) is their go-to fighting strategy in the books, which Percy comments on in BOTL

Obviously Jason passing out every 30 seconds is a reference to Jason getting knocked out like 3x a book in HOO (#brason)

Fai turning into a lizard in the Athens chapter is a callback to Frank the Iguana from MOA

the masthead of the ship being a dragon is meant to be reminiscent of Festus  

Other stuff!

Chapter 16 is named calm and chapter 17 is named storm bc 16 is the calm before the (literal) storm

Annabeth saying “is your head full of kelp” to percy in ch13 is the closest I could feasibly get to her calling him seaweed brain lol. I think in chapter 15 she also comments to herself that she feels like his brain is made of seaweed sometimes <3  

When Annabeth decides to let Jason and Piper wake up on their own instead of waking them up herself in ch32, it’s sort of a callback to previous comments she’s made about Jason not being a morning person. She’s still scared that he’ll be mad at her, and she doesn’t want to exacerbate that by waking him up early because she knows he’s in a worse mood in the morning. 

In the final conversation with Jason, Annabeth says “you’re always too hard on yourself” which is kind of a play on her last words to Luke in the original books (“you always pushed yourself too hard”). I don’t know why but I’ve always really liked that line, it feels very Annabeth, so I wanted to include it somehow. Jason isn’t dying but she does love him like a brother so that felt like a good place for it to go. 

something to generally look out for is how reliable or not reliable Annabeth’s narration is. She’s not like a Holden Caufield where she straight up lies to the audience, but her thoughts and observations are not always the most true version of what’s going on. This is probably most obvious in the Luke conflict (particularly chapters 21 and 23) but also when she has to read other people’s emotions and make assumptions about what they’re thinking based on that. A lot of times she’s straight up wrong and just doesn’t realize it (this is particularly relevant in ch14 lol)

another general thing to look at is chapter titles, particularly in the second half of the book. A lot of times the title of the chapter is one of the main themes of the story and that chapter is either an important plot point for that theme or a resolution of it! 

That’s all I can think of right now! I might update this later if I remember more but this is already stupidly long lol. I would apologize for turning my fic into an English assignment but if you made it this far you probably thought it was at least a little interesting, so 😂 

thank you guys again for reading <3 love you all!

[ariparri]

This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.

It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!

Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!

Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.

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

His Princess

"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."

With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke,  "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"

"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.

As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."

Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"

"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.

After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted. 

"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!

And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.

Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.

"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.

"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.

Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.

And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.

It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:

"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.

So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.

"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"

They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.

Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.

And now he had Veruca.

His little girl.

His princess.

Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.

The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 18

Here it is!

“Corpus Christi in Texas?”

“Yup, seems your boy’s mobile.” Fred was playing with a toothpick while sitting on the Frenchman’s couch, in his suite. 

Lucien sighed from his bedroom.

“Do we know if he intends to settle there or is his US tour going to last any longer?” He asked. 

“Apparently he had to meet with some folks in New Mexico but intends to settle for real in Texas. Some of his henchmen were spotted there already, but the man himself still has to join his goons.”

“Very well.”

Lucien walked to the telephone and composed a number. 

“Allô? Oui, please let the driver of Agent J know that his stop should not be in New Mexico but at Corpus Christi, in Texas… Many thanks.” Lucien hung up the phone and went back to his room, leaving the door open.

“So you’re goin’ there too or it’s too easy for the great L to take care of, huh?” Fred asked with enough disdain for Lucien to frown from his bedroom. He had laid a suitcase open on his bed and was packing his essentials.

“I am joining him. He is still in training and has no idea how to even dress. How could one expect him to capture an everything-trafficker?” Lucien's voice said from the bedroom. 

"Well, he's still technically in trainin' but you just called him 'Agent J', as if he was official…" Fred took a chocolate from the bowl on the coffee table. Lucien came out of his bedroom with a briefcase in his hand. “Think he has potential?”

"Thank you for letting me know where Mordankovich is." The Frenchman coldly answered and Fred raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t wanna answer?”

“Non.”

“Fair enough…” Fred took another chocolate from the bowl on the table and tossed the wrapping on it. Perle jumped on the table and started playing with the shiny bit of plastic.

“Perle, non.” Lucien came and took the wrapping away from her. “Chocolate is no food for you.”

“Meow!”

“C’est malpoli de répondre.” The Frenchman gently answered.

[It is impolite to talk back.]

Lucien threw the wrappings in the bin and Perle followed him around. 

“What are you gonna do with it?” Fred asked.

“With what?” Lucien answered.

“With the cat? You gonna go to Texas with it? Also, I didn’t know you had a kitty… C’mere…” Fred extended a few fingers to Perle who came to sniff them. “Ouch! She slapped me with her claws!”

Lucien couldn’t help but smirk.

“Perle, ne lui fais pas de mal, s’il te plaît.”

[Perle, don’t harm him, please.]

The American sucked on his bruised finger and frowned. 

"To answer you, Perle is coming along." Lucien said and crouched down next to the cat's travel box. He put a little soft blanket inside and dropped a few treats on it. "Viens, ma belle." 

[Come, my beauty.]

Before obeying, Perle brushed herself on the Frenchman. 

"Oui, tu viens avec moi. Je ne vais pas te laisser toute seule, non?" 

[Yes, you are coming with me. I will not leave you on your own, will I?]

He gently scratched her head and Perle purred. She appreciated the scratches for a while before she decided that she had enough and the smell of those tuna treats inside the travel box was divine…! 

"Never thought you were the pet ownin' type." Fred helped himself to more chocolates. "Hell, you couldn't even bear with people who wanted to work with you…! And now you got a kid and a fuckin' cat!"

"Well, if we are done, Fred…" Lucien walked to the front door. He put his coat on and wrapped a scarf around his neck. "If you don't mind, I need to leave." 

"Oh, sure." Fred took an extra handful of chocolates and left. “Oh, before I forget…” Fred turned from halfway through the hotel corridor. “We’ve got a guy in Texas, E, he’s good with machines and stuff. G'luck!"

A few hours later, Lucien was aboard a plane. He stretched his legs in front of him and sighed as he looked through the window. He was thousands of miles above the ground and as late as it was, he couldn't even see the clouds beneath him. It gave him the impression that he was floating in space, far from the Earth and its problems, in a business class bubble, far from targets, ministries and intelligence agencies.

The lights dimmed out in the plane and most passengers slowly fell in Morpheus' arms. Lucien looked through the infinite darkness.

"Meow?" 

"Dors, ma chérie. Je suis là." 

[Sleep, sweetheart. I am here.] 

Lucien had put Perle in the seat next to him, still in the box. 

"Meow…" She complained. 

"Je sais, c'est moins confortable que dans mon lit, sur le coussin à côté de moi. Mais on est dans un avion." 

[I know, it is less comfortable than my bed, on the pillow next to mine. But we are on a plane."

"Meeeoooow?" She begged and Lucien sighed. He opened the box's door. 

"Tu restes près de moi, d'accord?"

[You stay next to me, understood?]

Perle curled in a ball of fur on her master's lap. He scratched her and she gently purred, blinking slower and slower. 

"Meow." 

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" Lucien smiled. He could barely admit it, but he grew fond of Perle in a way he never thought he could. 

[What do you want?]

When he left his suite in his hotel, he had taken a last glance at the living-room, and smiled. That cat had transformed his days as much as it had his environment. Now he had to commit to a routine to feed her, to change the water from her bowl, even though she preferred to drink from a tap, to take care of her. And he had to invest money in toys, scratching posts and even in a soft satin bed that she decided wasn't good enough for her. She preferred to sleep with him and wake him up in the morning, sweet headbutts and rolling purrs. 

"Meow?" She asked. 

"Fine, Fine." Lucien smiled and Perle rolled on her back, looking up at her master with her deep blue eyes. Lucien cleared his throat. 

"Ne m’oublie pas,

[Don’t forget me.]

Je vais devoir m’en aller.

[I have to go.]

Ne m’oublie pas

[Don’t forget me.]

Tu ne dois pas pleurer.

[You must not cry.]

Même quand je suis très loin de toi,

[Even when I am very far from you,]

Tu restes dans mon coeur

[You remain in my heart.]

Je chante en secret chaque soir

[I sing in secret every night]

Pour que tu n’aies plus peur.

[So that you don’t feel scared]

Ne m’oublie pas,

[Don’t forget me,]

C’est à regret que je pars.

[It is with regret that I leave.]

Ne m’oublie pas, 

[Don’t forget me,]

Quand je chante, tu es dans mes bras.”

[When I sing, you are in my arms.]

Lucien smiled. Perle had fallen asleep, just as Jérémy used to when Lucien used to sing this to him, in bed. 

"Sir?" 

Lucien's head swooshed to the feminine voice. It was an air hostess. 

"He is adorable." She said. 

"She is a female, but thank you."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What's her name?"

"Perle, or in English, Pearl."

"Beautiful name you gave her…" 

They exchanged a smile. 

"I'm sorry but uh, you're not supposed to let her out of her box for the duration of the flight." 

"I apologise, Mademoiselle. Although, I suppose it doesn't cause too much of an issue if she is asleep?" 

[Miss]

"Ah, I'm sorry, Sir, but…"

"Tell me, Mademoiselle," Lucien cut her. "Most people are asleep now, non?" 

[Miss]

"Oh, uh…" The air hostess looked around them. "In business class, yes, I guess you're the only one awake." 

"Non, I am not, for you are too." He gave her a smile and a twinkle of his eyes that only women could understand.

“Yeah, I’m on night shift duty.” She answered. 

Lucien removed the cat box from the seat next to his. "Please do take a seat." 

"But, Sir, I-"

"Please." Lucien insisted and the woman eventually yielded. 

"Right…"

"It must be poetic." The Frenchman started, still lazily brushing Perle, asleep on his lap. 

"What is, sorry?" 

"Your position. Air hostess… Ah, you travel high in the skies, borders mean nothing to you."

"Well, that's a way to put it. And uhm… What do you do, I mean, apart from singin' lullabies to your kitty?"

"Ah, so you did hear me?" Lucien lowered his eyes to Perle who was sleeping soundly. 

"I did, yeah." The hostess blushed. "You got a great voice, I mean, it's soothin'." 

"Thank you."

"I can understand how she falls asleep that fast with ya."

Lucien raised his eyes to the woman sitting on the seat beside him. Through the dim lights, he saw her hat, assorted to her uniform, the twinkle of her brown eyes, the bright red lipstick and white and red foulard around her neck. Her jacket dived along her shy cleavage and as she crossed one leg over the other, the edge of her tight skirt grazed her skin, revealing her porcelain thighs. 

“Why would that be?” He asked, half whispering, both to not wake the passengers around, even though the Frenchman had a booth for himself, but also for the thrill of it. He stared in her eyes gently, his front lock of ashen hair falling poetically between his eyes. 

“You… You’ve got a beautiful voice.” She answered and looked away. As she swooshed her head, a lock of her hair fell from under her hat. 

The Frenchman put Perle back in her box and put it opposite him. 

“Mademoiselle?” He then asked. 

[Miss?]

The young woman turned to face him, her eyes still lowered. Lucien guessed that her cheeks had turned pink even though, in the dimness of the low lights, he could not see it. He pushed the lock of hair behind her ear and she raised her head, slowly. She looked around, quickly. Everyone was sleeping soundly.

“Sir, I…”

“Oui?” Lucien answered with a dreamy smile. He knew where this was going, he could see it in the woman’s nervous breath as if he had been the one pushing her. In all fairness, he had been exactly that. He was one of these men that could whisper in people’s souls straight through his eyes. And he loved it. He felt nothing for the woman, even though she was far from repulsive. But it wasn’t his heart that wanted to see her breath hitch and her eyes flutter, it was his ego.

As impulsive as a blink, the air hostess bent on her side and pushed her lips on the Frenchman, who made all the efforts in the world not to smirk, not now, it would make her stop. Instead, and to encourage her, he gently slid his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to himself. Her hands found Lucien’s face and she kept on touching, her eyes closed. Soon, she removed her hat and Lucien started touching the collar of her jacket. She unbuttoned it herself before hungrily opening Lucien’s shirt. That was when the Frenchman looked deep in her eyes. Ha, she looked like a deer flashed by the lights of a passing car, thoughts racing but not fully hitting her head.

The hostess moved from her seat to sit on Lucien’s lap and that’s when he knew he had won. Not against her, he would never fight or compete with a woman, but against himself, against his old age, against all those years of remaining faithful to one woman despite her dancing on her own vows, trampling them with her stolen stilettos. 

The hostess bit her lip to contain her heavy breathing and her moans as Lucien felt her hips grind against his crotch. He spent more time nibbling her neck, filling his lungs with the scent of his trophy, of his victory, he let his hands run on her golden sides, such a pretty cup… She wrapped her arms around his head, slightly ruffling his hair while he kissed her chest, chaste pecks just to push her to show her eagerness; because at the end of the day, Lucien was not particularly in the mood for more, nor was he against it. He was just proving a point to himself. 

Oui, Marie, you thought only you could have anyone at your mercy with a blink of your eyes, hm? Well, I can too, and maybe I played with you too? Maybe I sometimes faked a few things with you too, huh? Who told you that I was that head over heels for you? Look at me now, my head in this woman’s chest. Mind you, I have barely met her and don’t even know her name yet, but here she is, begging for more of me. Do you see this, Marie? Do you? Do you see how I am playing now? Do you see this? Watch carefully, I will make her scream my name, as you used to, I will make her scratch my skin until she draws blood, as you used to, and who knows, maybe I will feel content and satisfied with her more than I ever was with you, you insolent, lying-

The air hostess had unbuckled Lucien’s belt and her hand was exploring the Frenchman’s lower stomach. As it slid down, more and more, wet kisses pressed to whatever corner of skin both could reach-

“MEEEEOW!”

Lucien and the hostess both froze on the spot, the woman pulled the panes of her open shirt back together. 

“I-I should go back…” She said, as Perle jumped on the seat that the woman previously occupied, and showed her fangs.

Perle’s hissing screech left Lucien confused. The hostess left his lap and the Frenchman remained in a state of blank and utter confusion for minutes. The kitty hopped on her master’s lap and started to knead his bare chest. Lucien still had his shirt and his trousers’ fly open. His hair was a mess and on his lips, the taste of the hostess’s lipstick lingered.

“Comment es-tu sortie de ta cage?”  He lowered his eyes to meet Perle’s.

[How did you come out of your box?]

“Meow.” She ignored him and brushed herself on him repeatedly.

Lucien sighed. He had got used to Perle’s presence, he had accepted her and adapted to her, but if she was going to “intervene” whenever he least needed it, well, that was something else!

“Meow?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“J’étais occupé, Perle, et j’aurais apprécié que tu sois restée sagement dans ta cage. Pourquoi es-tu sortie? Et pour crier en plus?”

[I was busy, Perle, and I would have appreciated it if you had stayed put in your box. Why did you come out? And yelling, at that?]

Lucien looked away from her, visibly annoyed, even angry at her. He buttoned his shirt again and looked down to zip up his trousers when he noticed something that pushed him even deeper in frustration. 

The Frenchman had spent so much of his energy being furious at Mary, releasing all kinds of anger against her ghost, that he did not even notice that his body did not show any signs of wanting to proceed with the air hostess. 

Or was it just his advanced age and he needed a bit more… help for his body to show some eagerness?

The rest of the flight was spent inconsequentially. He landed, took a taxi and was driven to his hotel where he settled. A few phone calls later and Perle found a litter box, a few toys and a cat tree had appeared. That, and of course a piano.

Lucien had taken a shower and went to sit on the black, velvet seat, wearing his pyjamas and a gown. A cigarette was slowly fuming from his lips.

“Meow?” Perle jumped on the keys and then on top of the grand piano. 

“Quoi?” He asked, the tiredness and annoyance taking away his usual politeness.

[What?]

She looked at him pleadingly with her round, deep blue eyes, as she slowly made her way to stand in front of him, before offering her head. The Frenchman sighed and bent his head forward to meet her with a soft headbutt. 

“Non, je ne t’en veux pas. C’est juste… Bah.”

[No, I am not mad at you. It’s just that… Bah.]

He brushed his head against hers for a while and ended up closing his eyes, running his fingers through her long fur. When she backed off and he opened his eyes again, he felt like a different man, as if that incident in the plane had happened decades ago, or to a different man altogether.

“Merci.” He smiled at the cat who reciprocated by blinking slowly. Perle lay down on the varnished black piano in front of him and Lucien started playing.

As his fingers drummed the keys, his brain dwelled on the events a bit longer. The truth was that he had been completely indifferent to that air hostess. She was pleasant to the eye, oui, but… But Lucien was proving a point, not making love to her! There! He said it! His ego wanted to make love to her, not his mind, not his heart and not even his body.

He didn't realise it but his fingers were playing the same piece on loop, The Bard, by Brad Mehldau. 

Even his body didn’t want to make love to that woman. 

“Mon Dieu.” 

His eyes snapped wide open and his fingers hung in the air as the realisation hit him. 

His body had not been remotely interested in anyone or anything since… Well, not since he had left Marie and Jéramy all those years ago, non. God knows he had had to sleep with this or that, and he did, and his body happily played along. Non, his body had fallen disinterested in anything since he had learnt the truth about Marie.

“Mon Dieu…”

Lucien repeated as the last note he played still hung in the air.

[thebrownssociety]

Across The Serververse, Chapter 10

Hey! thanks to @thatsalotoftoons and @shipping-queen-fay-blog [thank you for your nice comments, but the way] for following this story.  

*Approximately 5 and a half hours later*

“There.” Marvin removed himself from the underside of Sam’s newly-fixed car, with an of someone reaching the end of his tether. “You will not find a more ready-to-go car than that, Yosemite.”

Wile.E closed the bonnet of the car and, handing a tool of some kind to Raodie, gave a thumbs up.

The others all hopped down/stood away from the bits of the car that they were working on, revealing the whole thing in it’s shiny, gold-painted glory to Sam.

It was beautiful, the pirate thought while staring at it in amazement. It had been good before, but now it was great! The two canon muzzles that stuck out the end of the car had been modified so they were now ready to hold anything and Wile.E had done something with the amount of stuff the car could hold so it was, in a word, better.

Sam smiled and ran his hands over the paintwork. “It’s as good as new.” He said, trying not to get to emotional. “I-I don’t know how ta thank ya all.”

“You know...” Pepe said, coming over to stand next to Sam and putting his hand on the car door in what could only be described as a seductive manner. “We technically still have ze time? You could probably still run ze race if you wanted...?”

Sam gave it serious consideration, but then shook his head reluctantly. “Nah. I ah couldn’t do that. Not when we’re missing several relatives. I mean...if it all ends up coming down to the last couple of hours ah don’t wanna be thinkin’ ‘if only I hadn’t run that race!’ Ya know wha’ ah mean? Besides. The track do darn go on forever. Nah, les leave it.”

Just at that exact moment day turned into night, as it tended to do. There were no sunsets or sunrises in the serververse [unless you lived in a live-action world, such as Harry Potter] the sun just went up and down without any warning.

With a cry of alarm Bugs signalled to Marvin and the Martian sped-walked towards him with a placating: “Do not worry yourself, my furry brother, I have a torch somewhere in my hammerspa-”

“What?” Bugs looked at him like he’d lost the plot. “Oi’m not scared of de dark, Marvin. Oi scurry me little hide through pitch-black tunnels most of the time, how can I be scared of de dark? No, I want ta plan wit’ ya where we’re going next as - and you may not have noticed this - IT’S DE MIDDLE OF DE NIGHT!”

Marvin's eyes narrowed and he put his hands on his hips. “I appreciate this is a stressful time for us all, Bugs, but if you would kindly refrain from shouting at me-”

“Who’s shouting?” Bugs yelled.

Marvin’s eyes narrowed even further so they were practically one eye and he said, with dignity. “I shall attribute your attitude to both your concern about our siblings and lack of sleep. Now-” Marvin began, his tone, bearing and general attitude reminding everyone why he was in charge of a planet and they were not. “-Listen to me and listen well. We are nearly out of both water and fuel. We forgot to bring food with us, although I am willing to take responsibility for that as it is my ship, and we now have a car to transport. So I propose we go back to Warner Brothers Central for 12 hours exactly. I shall stock the ship with supplies and fill it up with fuel, Sam can take his car somewhere it won’t be a nuisance and we can all get some rest. We’ll then head straight off and decide who to get next after we all have clearer minds.” There was a pause during which Marvin looked at Bugs like he was expecting a reply.

Bugs blinked back at him, trying to process what he’d just said. His head felt foggy. He ran a hand across his forehead and smiled in what he hoped was a nice smile and not a deranged one. 

Marvin cleared his throat and said, slowly and clearly. “I propose we do that right this minute as - as you keep reminding us - time is off the essence. Is anyone against that plan?” He asked, looking round at the rest of the group.

If Bugs had been thinking clearly he’d have seen that everyone else was completely cool with Marvin’s idea, even Tweety who had been on edge for about the last 10 hours, seemed happy with it.

As he was not thinking clearly, however - far from it, he was tired, hungry, stressed and worried - Bugs said with the kind of ferocity you might expect from a wolf, should you ever meet one. “Okay, Oi get it. Ya want ta leave our family alone to fight for dere lives!” Voice rising, he spat. “Granny an’ Speedy are in ‘The Matrix’! Dey could be dead-!”

“Bugs!” Penelope cut in, with an urgent head nod at Tweety, who had gone ashen. 

Not even noticing her Bugs steamrolled on. “-Or bein’ attacked or somethin’! Sentient A.I’s who knows what damage dey cahn do! An’ Porky and Daffy are in DC World! An Lola’s dere as well! Villains! Superhero’s! Oi mean sure-” Bugs rambled, his voice becoming progressively higher-pitched as his body also started to shake. “All de times we’ve been dere it’s been fine, bit who knows now? Acid vaults! Incineration rays! Plants! That...” Here Bugs struggled  for a few seconds to find the words, then managed to grasp them. “...weird egg man...what was his name? - Humpty Dumpty! I mean-” At this point Bugs found himself unable to talk properly and made motions with his arms that, to him, represented sewing and to everyone else represented a nervous breakdown. “Oi mean...” He repeated. Slowing down now he looked at his family with wide eyes and a trembling frame, saying in a small voice. “...Oi don’t know what I mean.” Before bursting into tears. 

There was a long pause while the others tried to remember the last time they saw Bugs cry. Genuinely cry I mean, not for a cartoon or the like. Quite a while ago now...

It was Penelope who finally got enough wits about her to go and actually comfort the rabbit. Making soothing noises and reassuring him that Daffy, Porky and Lola would probably be fine as would the rest of the family, she enveloped him in a hug. 

One by one the other toons moved in and hugged Bugs as well. It took a while but eventually the rabbits breathing evened out and he started calming down. A little while longer and Bugs said, somewhat shakily. “Okay...Oi’m alright now. Jus’ lost me senses for a few minutes.”

“It’s perfectly logical.” Wile.E said, in what was meant to be a reassuring manner, but came across as lecturing. “This has been a stressful time and the human - or in your case - the rabbit mind can only deal with so much. After a short while-” 

It was at this point that Roadie elbowed his twin and held up a sign that said. ‘I don’t think he needs a lecture, Wile.E.’

Wile.E, massaging his arm, saw this and muttered something agreeable. 

“Marvin-” Bugs muttered, sounding exhausted. “-take over will ya? Oi don’t feel good.” And he sat down and put his head in his hands.

“Right.” Marvin wasted no time. “Wile.E and Roadie put Bugs up and carry him back to the ship. It’s clear the poor rabbit’s suffering a nervous breakdown of some sort. We’ll do what I said. Hopefully sleep will restore everyone’s minds. Let’s not waste any time now, Wile.E, Roadie?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, watching all this from the monitors Pete smiled [as much as a blob can smile] and dreamed about what it would be like if he could be so lucky as to be one of the ‘Looney Tunes’. He didn’t see why it couldn’t work. HIs jelly-like body was practically made for squashing under anvils....

After indulging this fantasy for more than a few minutes Pete slapped himself and started checking the other monitors.

Elmer was still fine. No change there then. Still showing a resistance to Mama’s Yak Stew and the like, but that was understandable.

Gossamer and Witch Hazel...Pete zoomed in and grimaced a little. Interesting. Very interesting. Amazing how people will change when you give them a little power...

On the bright side the guards were reacting well to Hazel. Pete had been worried about that...

Granny and Speedy...Pete zoomed in just in time for a fighting scene. Pete winced...he’d never seen a handbag used quite like that before...

Lola...still good. She was certainly improving. All that training must be paying off. 

And finally Daffy and Porky. Last time they’d been fine...

Pete zoomed in and - ah. How interesting. He leaned forward and linked his tentacles together. Really, he should have expected this. What was it Rhythm always said? There are ways round everything? How clever...

His last thoughts, before he stopped his monitoring for a few hours, was to wonder how the other toons would react to this? 

[yououui]

Kurogane opens his eyes to a place that he assumes must be purgatory. There’s darkness around him, interrupted by specks of glowing light that he cannot find a source for, and though he feels like he is standing, he can’t feel anything beneath his feet. 

So, he died then. Well. Hopefully the others made it to a safe world.

But then, in front of him, one speck of light grows a bit brighter. He sees a young boy, a face he saw in a memory. Kurogane assumes it is the mage, his mind projecting some of the last things he saw in his dying moments. Gold hair, cut and clean, face round with health and youth and dressed in warm clothes, the child looks nothing like he did while stuck in the pit.

The light grows, and it’s then that Kurogane sees that the child is not alone. Lying beside him, their head in his lap, is a man. A man with an identical face to the child’s, changed only by age and the patch that covers one eye.

“You’re...?” Kurogane voices without meaning to.

The child looks up at him and smiles, says quietly, “Yuui doesn’t dream much.”

Ah. So this is the real Fai. 

“...Am I dead?” Kurogane asks for confirmation. His voice is flat as he questions; he doesn’t fear death, and if it had to happen to keep the others safe, then that was the price he’d pay. If he’s in the same place as the real Fai, then surely it must be so. As he realizes it, he’d like to say he has no regrets, but the man lying in Fai’s lap proves that wrong. Fear not for his own soul begins to bubble up. If he’s dead, what will happen to...?

“Not yet,” Fai says quietly, his voice light and able to quell Kurogane’s thoughts immediately. “Just dreaming.”

Kurogane frowns and walks closer to the boy. There’s something under his feet now; it’s like water, though he doesn’t feel wet, rippling with each step. He kneels when he’s close enough and looks at Yuui. Fai’s small hand is stroking his brother’s hair in comfort. This boy, he’s a dreamseer. Was? Kurogane isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but he isn’t surprised. Fai and Yuui’s powers were so incredibly powerful, after all. Could it be possible that they could even surpass death itself? Or was this happening because Kurogane was so close to the edge of death, Fai was able to meet him here?

Kurogane doesn’t vocalize his curiosity. “He... doesn’t dream?” He asks instead.

Fai shakes his head solemnly. In his lap, Yuui’s brows pinch together like he’s in pain, his lips trembling. Somehow, he looks just as young as Fai in that moment, just like a scared child. “When he does,” Fai says as he places a hand over his brother’s forehead. “They’re just... nightmares. And I can never find him in the dark.”

Kurogane copies Fai and lays his hand over Yuui’s forehead as well, engulfing Fai’s. After a moment, Yuui’s lips part and the furrow of his brows smoothes out in relaxation. “...He’s alive, right?” Kurogane asks as he pulls his hand away. He’s quiet when he asks to hide the tightness in his throat.

Fai smiles at him. “Thanks to you,” The boy says. He runs his small fingers through his brother’s hair. After a moment of silence, he comments, “You don’t dream much, either.”

Kurogane looks up from Yuui to quirk a brow at the boy. “You’ve been trying to find me?” He asks, and Fai smiles like he’s sheepish. He seems sensitive, empathetic. If he and Yuui could have grown up together, Kurogane is sure that he would have been the quieter of the two. Kurogane shrugs eventually. “Part of my training. I never sleep deeply enough to dream.”

He doesn’t mention that, like Yuui, he also tends to have nightmares on the few nights he does happen to dream.

Kurogane wonders, then, why he is dreaming now. As if able to read his thoughts, Fai says, “Your body must be very tired.”

Kurogane blinks and looks down, and for the first time since waking in the Dream World, notices that his left arm is missing. Right. The blood loss and shock would be enough to keep him unconscious for days, he reckons. Here, though, there is no pain.

“Do you regret it?” Fai asks as he regards Kurogane.

“No,” Kurogane answers immediately, looking back at him. “I don’t regret anything I’ve done to keep him alive. Even if it means he’ll hate me.”

Fai smiles at Kurogane, and Kurogane feels an odd, familiar sensation, like he has been reunited with a family member. “He doesn’t hate you,” Fai tells him. “He never did.”

Yuui’s body becomes engulfed in bright white, and in the next moment, he’s vanished. Left behind where his body was are more of those specks of light, drifting slowly away.

“Ah,” Fai says with a frown. “He woke up.”

Kurogane looks at the boy again. He never met Fai, not really, yet deep in his bones is the need to protect him. It’s too late for that, though. Bitter regret replaces that need, regret for something he could have never hoped to change.

“Did you know?” Kurogane asks the child. “Did you know what would happen to the two of you?”

Fai is quiet for a moment as he thinks about it. “I didn’t begin seeing in my dreams until I was locked in the tower,” He explains, and though his voice is young, there’s an unspoken age behind it. “It was all very confusing, at first. Just flashes I had to piece together. But I saw Yuui, out of the pit and all grown up. I saw him lonely and in pain, trying to hide behind a fake smile. Then, I saw him happy. Really happy, and smiling so bright... But then I realized, no matter what I saw, I wasn’t there. And I knew that if Yuui was ever going to reach the day when he could truly smile... I couldn’t leave there with him.”

There is no remorse behind the child’s words. A longing, perhaps, to have gotten the chance to live with his brother, but no regrets. If anything, he is happy that his sacrifice let his brother live. 

“He hasn’t gotten to that point yet,” Fai says suddenly, though he smiles knowingly at Kurogane. “He hasn’t been smiling honestly. But he will, very soon.”

Kurogane can’t help but smile at Fai, just a small thing that comes with his quiet sigh. He has an urge to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’re a strong kid, y’know that?” 

Fai grins, toothy and lopsided, dimples pressed into chubby cheeks. His smile is a bit different from Yuui’s, his eyes a bit brighter. Kurogane wonders, however, how similar their smiles will be when Yuui is honest with his feelings.

“I’m happy I could finally meet you, Kurogane,” Fai says sincerely. “I’ve always wanted to say thank you for all you’ve done. And all you will do.”

Kurogane gives in and does ruffle his hair this time. Fai laughs and shakes his head to fix the mess Kurogane caused. In all the memories he was forced to see, not once did Kurogane ever see either of the twins smile like this. It’s good, he thinks, that at least now they can both be happy.

“I know you can’t tell me what’ll happen,” Kurogane says to Fai. “But when you saw him smiling... where was he?”

Fai shakes his head and smiles apologetically. “I can’t say. I couldn’t see,” He admits. “But what I did see was you by his side.”

“...Is that right?” Kurogane murmurs, mostly to himself. He blinks when he notices glowing specks appearing along him, floating upwards as things seem to get brighter.

“Your turn now,” Fai says. “Time to wake up.”

“Hey,” Kurogane says as he struggles to see Fai against the light that threatens to blind him. “Keep looking. I have a feeling you’ll find him in a dream soon enough.”

Fai smiles and nods with determination. “I know I will.”

Kurogane can’t handle the light anymore, so he shuts his eyes against it. He sees only darkness after that, feels pain on his left side and a throbbing in his forehead. He wants to keep his eyes shut against it and go back to the Dream World, but his eyes open despite himself.

He opens his eyes to his home, his princess. Eventually, the door opens, and he sees Yuui—Fai, the man he’s dedicated his life to, and though he knows there is more to worry about, a relief he didn’t know he could feel soothes him.

And after a blow to the head that, honestly, he probably deserved, Kurogane sees the first vestiges of the smile the younger twin spoke of.

[completeoveranalysis]

[2]

OK OK OK THE ACID TOKYO PRE-SHOW IS STARTING EVERYONE SHH 

One thing that hits me right off the bat is just how DIFFERENT Acid Tokyo is from second zero. In most of the other worlds we don’t see the actual moment of arrival, though we do sometimes! But even in those moments it’s UNHEARD of for us to start an arc by talking in depth about the previous one. It’s a clear sign that we’re moving away from the self contained arc structure and that the big story beats are going to start bleeding heavily into the main plot to the point where you can’t actually separate them anymore. And it’s also an indication that we’re ankle deep in the actual heavy plot developments, and we’re right about to be dragged directly under water. NOW when big things happen, they’re not just surprising dramatic moments. They’re going to have big character implications that will irrevocably shape the entire narrative that follows. The story is DIFFERENT now, and it starts by showing us this immediately. 

And the contrast it begins with! 

Knowing where Acid Tokyo is about to take us it’s low key hilarious that it begins with Fai pretending Nothing Happened (™) and that Everything is Normal. He will be proven wrong in like 27 seconds but before we get there he’s almost used as a signpost of the old story structure. In the past you could sweep any worrying implications of what happened during an arc (coughOutocough) as soon as it ends and everything returns to the status quo, just as Fai ridiculously tries to do now. 

BUT 

KUROGANE

His immediate disapproval shows that not only are we getting proper discussion of Big Stuff that we normally wouldn’t, but it’s promising conflict between the two of them further in the arc. 

AND BOY DO THEY DELIVER HUH? 

Divorce was promised right at the beginning of arc before we even knew we were in Acid Tokyo and it’s beautiful. 

But even that aside, it’s so interesting that the arc begins with this tiny little zone where the characters just talk for a little while, and every thing that’s brought up is a central point in the arc that follows. Including: 

Fai lying (leading to Fai’s conflict with Kurogane)

Fai using magic (leading to Fai using magic to try save Syaoran, and then having his magic stolen)

Syaoran’s mysterious black out (leading to Autopilot Syaoran’s whole deal)

Sakura sleeping (leading to her sleeping in the reservoir with Kamui)

And Lava Lamp Guy (who finally appears in the plot)

[ursus-mari]

Guinevere is a noblewoman, ward of King Bayard, married off to Prince Arthur of Camelot in a political alliance. Arthur is brash and arrogant, but he is also noble and true and genuinely cares, and Guinevere thinks she could love him, if only she had been given a choice. As is she feels stifled and trapped, stuck in a loveless marriage and given no more to do than be fussed over by maids and embroider. So she runs. Goes to the Darkling Woods, where no one dares venture for fear of the witch Morgan le Fay, a powerful, vindictive sorceress. Guinevere fears the witch, but she wants out more, and no soldier of Camelot or Mercia would dare enter her woods. But in the forest, Guinevere finds no vindictive witch, just a worn down woman who introduces herself as Morgana. Guinevere knows she has likely just met the witch, but Morgana doesn’t seem malicious, just tired and lonely. Still, Guinevere doesn’t want to invoke her wrath as the Prince’s wife, and she wants to be free of the expectations and limitations that hound her, so Guinevere introduces herself simply as Gwen, a name she has not been called since her parents died and Elyan ran off.

And so, with the passing of the seasons, the witch and the noblewoman fall in love.

(If you’d like to hear me ramble more about this AU and its spontaneously developed plot, that’s under the cut)

Features of this AU include

mutual pretending that they don’t know who the other is

Gwen learning survival skills and swordplay from Morgana

running around in the leaves in fall

snowball fights

sleeping pressed together during winter (and consequently realizing, hey, I really, really want to kiss you)

Gwen actually combing Morgana’s hair?

Gwen learning to trust and love magic. She has no magical ability herself, but she helps Morgana with physical preparations of spells and potions, and her enthusiasm helps Morgana find her abilities beautiful once more.

On the subject of magic, Morgana sets up a spell that allows only those who mean no harm and those in need of help to find their home.

This means they act as a haven for those in need, and though no one stays, they leave with their well being ensured and a memory of kindness

Gwen looking herself using the water, wearing worn, threadbare clothes, hair shorter and pulled back simply, and realizing that she likes her reflection more like this, watery and distorted as it is, than she ever did when she wore elaborate gowns and had long hair in complicated updos and looked at herself in an expensive, perfectly reflective mirror.

Also relating to water, there’s the awkward bathing together thing and sneaking glances at each other before turning away with burning cheeks

Trips to the city rarely and in disguise, but when they do go they have fun with shopping

Universe-wise, Gwen has taken on Morgana’s role here a bit as the orphaned ward of a king. Her mother died when she was young, and her brother left to experience adventure and learn a craft (hi, Elyan), so when her father died, she was taken in by Bayard, an old friend of her father’s, who then married her off for political gain.

Morgana is Uther’s bastard child, and her mother was a commoner rather than a noblewoman. She was kept around as Gaius’s assistant, neither she nor Arthur knowing of their shared blood. When her nightmares start up, Gaius sends her away to train with Morgause, who teaches her hatred as well as spellcraft. Somehow or another, they learn of Morgana’s parentage, and Morgause takes this as an oppurtunity to take the throne and hatches a plan. Morgana, meanwhile begins to dream of Arthur’s death at Morgause’s hand, and though they were not equals, they had grown up together and developed an odd sort of friendship, and she finds she does not want to see him hurt. She tries to talk Morgause out of her plan, to change it so only Uther suffers and none of the townspeople or Arthur, but Morgause is out for blood and will not be swayed. So Morgana does what she can to thwart Morgause’s schemes and runs. She finds refuge among the druids, but Uther sends a raid to slaughter them, and Morgana finds herself a target when she uses magic to defend herself. She runs off to hide in the woods, where she fights off bandits and knights, and soon she makes a name for herself as the witch of the Darkling Woods, which is how Gwen finds her at the start of the tale

(But back to the Morgwen)

Gwen’s never done any practical sewing before, but she learns, and this is how they come by their disguises and non suspicious clothing

wait no darn it I’m out of morgwen thoughts

Merlin definitely ends up taking refuge with them once he gets found out, and Arthur follows. He finds them, which is how they know Arthur means no harm even if Arthur himself doesn’t

I imagine they assist all the knights at various points, so when Merlin and Arthur stumble in and the four of them (once all the angsting and shouting of a magic reveal and the awkwardness of finding your runaway wife in a relationship with your runaway sister subsides, at least) decide to take down Uther and usher in an age of magic and prosperity and not killing people, thanks, they call the knights to them to help

Uther is defeated and Arthur is king and the Golden Age is ushered in and Morgana and Gwen are very happy together the end

If you’ve read this far I love you forever and would love to hear your thoughts and additions re: sapphics in the woods and also I’m sorry I really, really didn’t mean to let this get so long

[eileniessa]

I keep forgetting to send the 5+ headcanons ask so here goes. Stuck-up royalty Tissaia and faerie Yennefer because I love opposites attract tropes.

Send me an AU and I’ll write 5+ headcannons about it - still accepting asks.

Royalty Tissaia and Faerie/Fay Yennefer

This is 2,500 words long. I got carried away xD I'm glad you sent this ask. I actually had an image of fey Yennefer already in my head and this gave me an opportunity to come up with a story around it! Enjoy :)

Tissaia de Vries is a human Queen who rules over the kingdom of Thanedd. Her castle is in the portside city of Aretuza.

Yennefer is a winged elf and guardian of The Whispering Wood. She is fey and the last of her kind. She has pointed ears, dark horns, and black wings protruding from her back.

On her way to the five crested hill, a sacred and neutral piece of land between the five kingdoms that has been used to host diplomatic negotiation for centuries, Tissaia’s convoy is attacked by banner less men. Her guards are outnumbered and Tissaia is forced to retreat into The Whispering Wood, the fey kingdom from which no man returns.

Only two men dare follow Tissaia. One of them shoots her horse in the leg with a crossbow and it bucks and throws her off. She hits the ground hard and narrowly avoids getting shot in the head. She takes cover in a dense part of the forest and keeps running.

Her dress gets caught and ripped by the undergrowth and she trips on the hem of her skirt and falls. One of the men catches up with her and restrains her. The other thrusts a sword towards her chest. Blood soaks Tissaia’s dress and splatters across her face, but it isn’t hers.

A tree root protrudes from the man’s stomach and when his friend drops Tissaia and runs away a figure flies down from the trees and snaps his neck. His body falls to the side to reveal – it can’t be – a winged elf, and species long thought dead. Tissaia runs away.

Yennefer kills the two-armed men that had entered The Whispering Woman but spares the defenceless woman. She bares her fangs at her and tries to chase the outsider back to the border, but the forest has other plans. It’s trees and roots bend to drive the noblewoman deeper into the woods and Yennefer watches it lead her.

Tissaia emerges from the trees at the edge of a cliff overlooking a valley. She’s in the middle of the woods! How could this happen? Tissaia orientates herself and tries to go back into the woods but the fey creature blocks her way.

There must be something special about her, Yennefer thinks. And that’s when she smells it. Vanilla, apple spice, and magic. The noblewoman smells of magic. Yennefer has never spelt that on a human before, or anything from outside the woods, but there is something familiar about it.

Yennefer tries to get closer to Tissaia, but she backs away. Tissaia looks down and throws herself off the cliff. Death would be better than what the fairies have planned for her, Tissaia thinks.

The second of indecision saves Tissaia’s life. Yennefer catches her before she hits the ground and ties her to a tree with roots and vines. She rips Tissaia’s dress apart and looks for any unusual markings on her but finds nothing, though she does get an earful from the human, who claims to be Queen of Thanedd and demands (yes demands) to be released.

Yennefer ignores her (such titles mean nothing in the woods) and steps in close to smell her. The magic on her is faint, and that’s why she had missed it the first time. The Mother Tree. Tissaia smells like the magic from The Mother Tree. Yennefer asks Tissaia under who’s moon she was born but she refuses to say. Needing answers, Yennefer throws Tissaia over her shoulder and carries her through the woods.

In the valley beside the lake, there is a great tree that reaches into the heavens – The Mother Tree. The Winged elves had built their homes amongst its leaves and that is where Yennefer takes the Queen. She ties her to the branch that has grown through the floor and ceiling of her treehouse and leaves to find the pixies. They are mischievous little fays with tricky powers. One species has the power to make people tell the truth – or more accurately spill their guts.

Yennefer uses their magic to interrogate Tissaia and learns that she was born under Freya’s Moon in the spring. From that, Yennefer divines the truth she seeks. Before she was born one of the bordering kingdoms invaded The Whispering Wood and stole the heart from The Mother Tree. Many of Yennefer’s people were killed and when the Mother started to weaken, they knew the heart had been destroyed. If Yennefer felt its magic in Tissaia that meant only one thing – she was the product of its destruction. A child born from a healed womb. Yennefer must get that magic back.

Tissaia is furious about being held captive (and about being dirty, and cold, and humiliated and so on and so forth) and threatens Yennefer with war if she does not set her free. Yennefer laughs at her ‘you have no power here, human,’ she says. Before Tissaia can start talking her ear off again (does she ever stop making demands?) Yennefer gags her and goes to see the gnomes.

She gives them the task of finding out whether the magic can be extracted from Tissaia and given back to The Mother Tree. Since the heart had been taken the fey kingdom had been left vulnerable to attack. Where once there were hundreds of winged elves only Yennefer remained and the other fey species had also suffered great losses.

Yennefer returns to the treehouse and when night falls she unties Tissaia. Unless she can fly, she isn’t going anywhere. She gives her a change of clothes and reluctantly Tissaia changes – irritated skin is better than freezing to death in wet silk. Yennefer locks her into the hut and goes to sleep in her treehouse.

It the morning Tissaia tries and fails to hit Yennefer on the head with a wooden chair (she’s not one for sitting around and waiting to be rescued) which sees her back in Yennefer’s house tied to the tree. Yennefer leaves her to go check in with the gnomes. They haven’t found anything yet. They're known for their wisdom, not their speed.

While patrolling the border Yennefer gets the sense that Tissaia is in danger and rushes back to The Mother Tree. An Ent is standing in the lake and throwing boulders at everything in reach, including the treehouses. Yennefer goes inside and carries Tissaia to safety. She hands her over to some dwarves and goes to confront the Ent. She battles it with her sword and magic until it collapses into the water. When it surfaces it is no longer hostile and Yennefer leaves it be.

She goes to get Tissaia and finds her half-way up a cliff that the dwarves are too short to climb. Tissaia loses her grip and Yennefer catches her but hits the ground hard and takes the brunt of the force after turning their bodies to have Tissaia on top of her. She thinks her wing might be broken 

Tissaia untangles herself from Yennefer’s arms and wings and considers running but can’t get her legs to move. This fey put her life in danger to save her from the Ent and the cliff. She cannot leave her like this. Tissaia kneels beside Yennefer and feels her hands tingle. She places her palm against the broken wing, and it starts to heal. Tissaia’s shoulder burns and twists but she stays with it and heals Yennefer’s wing. The pain stops and she passes out. Yennefer puts her to bed and watches over her.

In the morning Yennefer explains that what Tissaia did was magic and that she has that power because she was conceived using the heart of The Mother Tree. Tissaia doesn’t believe her and thinks that she is hallucinating. She hasn’t had her medication, that’s why she feels weird. She had been poisoned as a child and had to take regular antidotes to stop it from killing her. Yennefer agrees to go retrieve the vials from her horse but knocks them from Tissaia’s hand when she uncorks one. ‘That is no antidote’ she says, ‘it’s poison’. A poison that can suppress magic and turn some fey to dust.

Tissaia’s parents knew she had inherited the magic from The Mother Tree and had been trying to suppress her powers. Yennefer says that the forest needs that magic back because without it the kingdom is unbalanced. Some of the fey, like the Ent, are turning wild. The kingdom’s magic has been poisoned. They need to magic of The Mother Tree to keep the peace and heal that land. Yennefer’s magic cannot do that. It is for defending and protecting the fey and was once shared between her and her people. Now they are gone it has all been given to her.

Tissaia asks to get some fresh air and Yennefer takes her down the lake to bathe. She watches her from the shore (she doesn’t like to get her wings wet) and encircles Tissaia’s body with her wings when she gets out to stop the other faeries from looking at her.

They go for a walk and Tissaia asks Yennefer if she saved her because of her magic. Yennefer says yes and no. The magic might be lost of she died, but even without it, Yennefer would have done what she did. It is her responsibility to guard the forest and those that live there and since Tissaia has been forced to stay she is her responsibility. But that is not the only reason. Winged elves will also protect their mates with their lives, and Tissaia is hers. That was how she knew she was in trouble. Yennefer didn’t think it was possible to bond with a human, but she had. She could feel it.

Tissaia feels ashamed and guilty that her life has come at the cost of Yennefer’s people and The Whispering Wood and agrees to stay until she can give the magic back. With The Mother Tree restored the woods could fortify and better repel the invaders that had hunted Yennefer’s species to the point of extinction.

She stays in the treehouse when Yennefer goes out to patrol and walks through new parts of the woods with her every morning and eve. She begins to enjoy the freedom and release of life in the woods and Yennefer makes her a rope ladder so that she can come and go from the treehouse as she pleases. Tissaia ventures out more each day and gets acquainted with many of the fey along the lake. She is curious about the other creatures that live in the woods but promised Yennefer that she would not stray far from The Mother Tree.

Yennefer and Tissaia get close and one night, after Tissaia asks how it is that Yennefer always appears when she is in trouble or in pain, Yennefer admits that it is because they are mates. That was not the answer that Tissaia had been expecting (not by a long shot) but she finds that it is not entirely unwelcome. They kiss under the stars and sleep together in a bed of flowers by the lake with Yennefer’s wings wrapped around Tissaia to keep her warm (and because Yennefer has to do something with them!)

A month passes and the gnomes come to them with an answer. The magic can be taken and given back to The Mother Tree, but not without killing the host. Tissaia says that she is ready to die for the woods, to right the wrongs of her ancestors and to help protect the fey, but Yennefer won’t let her. With no other way to help the Woods Tissaia knows that she must return to her throne and protect the fey from there. They spend one last night together and, in the morning, Yennefer flies Tissaia to the edge of the woods and watches her get picked up by a patrol.

They do not see each other for months, but Tissaia does catch a glimpse of Yennefer in the trees on her way to another summit at the hill. King Stregobor, whose kingdom lies on the other side of The Whispering Wood, had been trying to rally the other three kings to launch an invasion to wipe out the fey and had been making headway until news of Tissaia return spread and she intervened in the matter. Today, they would be signing an agreement to try and make peace with the fey and, if unsuccessful, to leave their land in peace.

That had been the plan, but things quickly went south with Stregobor plunged an arrow into her back. Piece of shit. And he might have killed her too, had Yennefer not been watching over her. Vines wrap around Stregobor’s wrist and hold him back and Tissaia sees that the arrow in his hand is not of human design. He had been trying to frame the fey.

Yennefer flies down from the trees and tries to take Tissaia into the forest but she won’t run. Stregobor has to be stopped. The other Kings appear with their soldiers and Yennefer covers Tissaia with her wings but she pushes them away. She stands between the men and Yennefer and says that it is not the fey that have broken the peace.

The others kings are reluctant to believe Tissaia’s story but the fact that Yennefer is not currently trying to tear them to shreds and that Tissaia came out of the woods alive is enough to stay their hands. But not Stregobor’s. He gets into a fight with Yennefer and burns her skin with iron powder. Tissaia tries to stop the fighting but Yennefer keeps her away with her wings.

In the end, Yennefer comes out on top and starts to squeeze the life out of Stregobor, the man responsible for killing so many fey. Tissaia tries to talk her down. If she kills him then they will never achieve peace. The fey will not be safe and neither will she, not with her magic. Yennefer lets Tissaia go and one of the Kings takes him to his castle where he will stand trial for the attempt on Tissaia’s life and for the ambush. Tissaia has always been Stregobor’s biggest opposer to invading The Whispering Woods and without her, he had hoped the other Kings would fall in line.

It takes several years but Yennefer and Tissaia get the other kingdoms to sign a peace deal and acknowledge The Whispering Wood’s status as kingdom of the fey. The five crested hill becomes the six crested and for the first time in centuries, man wanders into the woods and fey wander out. Magic is reintroduced to the other kingdoms and the lands become more fertile than ever. As Tissaia masters her magic the rare fruits and plants of The Whispering Wood spread across the continent and the fey become stronger again. Tissaia and Yennefer spend their time between the two kingdoms and after fifty years of peace, they retire to the woods where they live out the rest of their very long lives.

[saibh29]

Let me look after you

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Warning: Not much, fluff, grouchy more fluff.

AN: Wrote to the prompt ‘if you move from that spot, I swear to go i will tie you down’

******

You weren’t a very good sick person, you had too much natural energy and exuberance. According to Kelly who slept next to you most nights you weren’t even still when you were asleep. Hell he’d even gone to the firehouse with black eyes a few times where you’d flailed into him while you were dreaming.

It’s what made you such a horrid patient, it took a lot for you to respect your bodies need for rest. Which is why even though you’d struggled not to either sneeze or cough every 30 seconds so far today, you’d still gone into work.

You liked your job, as a public defender you gave legal advice to people who otherwise would be able to afford it. It made you feel like in some way you were contributing to society. Also you could do paperwork at your desk just as easily as you could do it at home on your couch. That’s what you’d been telling yourself at least.

In reality your optimism had possibly been misplaced. You were now also running a fever and you could see your assistant making not so subtle glances at you through the glass screen separating you both.

She’d made a rather urgent looking phone call about 30 minutes ago which is why you weren’t altogether surprised to see your boyfriend storming through the office floor aiming for your corner room.

He stopped briefly at your assistants’ desk and said something into her ear which made her nod and start making phone calls. He then came right into your office, no knocking and then instantly closed the blinds cutting you off from the rest of the floors prying eyes.

“Want to explain?”

The sarcasm really made you want to be difficult and answer his question with just as much snark. You didn’t have the energy though to form that complicated of a reply.

“I honestly didn’t feel this bad this morning”

Kelly had already left for work before you woke up this morning meaning he had no way of checking that statement. “Why don’t I believe you?” he came around the desk and spun your chair over to face him. “You’re really pale babe”

“Yeah? I'm always pale” well look at that maybe your sarcasm ability wasn’t fully drained yet.

Kelly ignored you pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning “you’re burning up. We need to get you home”

“I don’t want to go home” add stubborn on top of sarcastic.

“Want has nothing to do with the situation now” you were determinedly going to keep fighting when Kelly simply put his hand over your mouth cutting off any further words from you. “You can either move your ass or I can carry you out over my shoulder. Decide, because either way you’re going home”

“You are not carrying me” you got reluctantly to your feet, even that amount of movement though made your head spin and you wobbled on the heels you’d still worn. Kelly grabbed your arm steadying you.

“Easy sweetheart”

“I don’t need you help” you weren’t exactly happy with him for forcing you home even if logically you knew he was right.

“Alright, walk to the door then”

“You think I can’t?” Kelly just waved his hand towards the door inviting you to try. “fine”

Biting your lip to try and clear the fog in your eyes you carefully took one step, then another and even one more. You were just starting to feel confident when the nausea hit once more and your head span. You had a second to realise you were going to fall and that you had nothing to grab onto to stop yourself. You never hit the ground though because Kelly caught you, holding you up as you got your head under control.

“Willing to accept help now?”

“You going to hold it against me?”

“No babe” his arm went around your waist holding you into his chest. “Your sick babe and I want to help”

“I am sick” you admitted it out loud for the first time. “Kelly?”

“Yeah”

“Can you take me home please?”

Kelly to give him credit didn’t say I told you so or anything like that just helped you into your coat, putting his arm back around your waist and with you putting most of your weight on him you got out of your office, into his car and back to the apartment.

Kelly put you down on the sofa. “You have to go back to the firehouse?”

He snuck a look at his watch “In a bit, let me get you a drink and some pills”

“I can do that”

Before you could even begin to move Kelly grabbed your shoulders holding you down onto the couch. “If you move from this spot, I swear to go I will tie you down. Understand? Y/N understand?”

“Yes, jesus”

Kelly let go of you and took a few steps away eyes glued onto you, watching for any twitch of movement. When you obediently stayed still on the sofa he left to go and gather together some things for you.

Your head was pounding and you’d started to consciously feel sick all the time now not just because you were trying to move. It felt like horribly enough you’d caught the flu.

Kelly came back with a horde of things in his arms. He put a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol on the coffee table in front of you and then up one of his old firehouse hoodies and joggers.

“Want to change?”

You really did, that hoodie looked really, really tempting right about now. You honestly didn’t think you could change on your own though without passing out.

So, you did something that you only ever did with a handful of people. You asked for help.

“Can you… can you help me with these?”

Wordlessly Kelly lifted you back up to your feet and started on the buttons of your shirt. You slipped your feet out the heels standing barefoot as Kelly finished off the buttons and pulled your shirt off then going for the zip at the back of your skirt. Once you were stood in nothing but your underwear Kelly then pulled the hoodie over your head and let you rest on his shoulders while you got your legs into the joggers.

You were fully dressed again and Kelly rested you back down onto the couch. “I must look truly awful, you didn’t even try to cop a feel”

“Even I have rules about sick people. Especially sick girlfriends”

“Such a gentleman”

Kelly smiled pointing at the paracetamol. “Take your pills”

You did swallow the little pills, leaning back into the cushions of the couch.

“I have to go back”

“I’ll be fine” your eyes were already fluttering closed. “I'm just going to sleep for a bit”

Bending over Kelly kissed your still burning forehead. He was a little worried about you, but admitting that to you wouldn’t make anything better, in fact you were liable to just get even more stubborn about resting.

“If you feel worse call me”

“Alright”

“Y/N I mean it”

Flipping the hood up over your head you mock saluted him. “Aye aye Lieutenant”

He wasn’t going to get anymore agreement out of you than that he knew that so he grabbed his car keys getting ready to head out again. He was nearly to the door again when your voice stopped him.

“Kelly?”

“Yeah babe”

“Thank you”

“No problem” his hand was on the door handle turning it when you spoke again.

“I love you”

“I love you too” he said, smiling to himself because only you could sound so reluctant to admit that you loved someone.

You went quiet again and this time did let him leave the apartment to go back to the firehouse. After all there were people with a lot worse problems than the flu that needed him to rescue them. You were lucky though, luckier than them, because at the end of the day you were the one he came home to.

*******

@lclb13 @moli1497​   @clementines-x​ @the-chosen-one-time-lord​ @no-other-names-availible-blog​ @angelaiswriting​ @selldraug​ @angryares​ @thenovarose​ @georgiagrl1990​ @punk-rock-5-sos @mindofthescattered​  @dontstopxx​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @madelinecraig03​ @ka-x-in​ @im-hurric4ne @mesmericbell​ @something–awesome @weirdpotato-14​ @putinontheritzz​ @soulslaststand​ @fuckthatfeeling​  @ember1201​ @morganlb23​ @kitkatbadass @tomhopperarms​  @fakingintrest​ @artprincessbree​  @dreamer-lover-laughter​ @artprincessbree​ @rime-warrior​ @captainvaneswife​ @jaib2-blog @kapolisradomthoughts​ @thingsandstuffienjoy​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @aya-fay​  @itsbubbaog​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @emmykinzs​ @thatbadassunicorn​ @sassywingednightmare​ @weirdnewbie​ @goyawriter​ @shipperfangirling​ @nathaliabakes​ @stillreadingfantasy @waywardblueshun

[katymacsupernatural]

No More

MoC Dean x Reader

1400 Words

Written For: @spndarkbingo​, @teamfreewillbingo​

Squares Filled: Addiction (Dark), Leather Jacket (TFW)

Summary: Y/N is the one Dean needs the most while fighting off the effects of the Mark. But it quickly becomes too much.

Warnings: Lots of angst, mentions of addiction, abuse, physical, mental, nothing too graphic

It was so hard to see the pitying looks from your two closest friends Sam and Cas as you scurried past them, just a whisper of the girl you used to be. It made it that much more difficult to even stay in the same room, knowing exactly what would happen if you did.

It wasn't their fault. They were just as agonized over what was happening, but you were the one traumatized by it. The one who couldn't sleep at night in fear….

"Y/N, stop," Sam pleaded with you. You could hear the pain in his words, matching the pain that radiated through your defeated body. Tears slipped down your cheek as you shook your head, knowing you couldn't face them. Because the second you did, you would break down. And you couldn't.

"Y/N," Cas sighed. "Please. We just want to help you."

Shaking your head, you continued down the hallway, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

Dean's door was barely open, the light shining through the sliver. Making sure your footsteps were no more than a whisper, you passed by, planning on heading to the safety of your room.

Your heart raced when Dean cleared his throat, the sound of a glass bottle hitting the nightstand echoing through to you.

Already in panic mode, you tiptoed as fast as you could, past his room and down to yours, shutting the door as quietly as you could before taking a deep breath.

Now that you were in the safety of your room, you were able to calm down. Flicking on the light switch, you stopped in front of your dresser, intent on changing into pajamas and sleeping the evening away.

The reflection in the mirror, your reflection, was almost unrecognizable. Dark circles stood out under red-rimmed eyes. Your lip was swollen and darker than the grapes Sam had just brought back from the store. Your hair was a ratted mess on top of your head.

The shirt you were wearing was two sizes too big. It actually belonged to Dean, and normally that was a comfort. Not anymore. Not it was a reminder that you were a prisoner, an escape he needed when the mark became too much.

Lifting your shirt up, you winced at the mixture of green and yellow covering one side, grateful to see it finally fading away.

It was so hard, seeing all of these marks on your skin. Sure, Dean might not have raised a hand to you, but they were a result from him all the same. Turning from his temper, running away when he became too much. Running into the corner of his dresser, or pulling away from his grasp.

"Y/N," Dean whispered from the doorway. Startled, your shirt dropped from your grasp as you instinctively looked for a way to keep yourself safe. Dean seemed contrite, the proud hunter standing there with bent shoulders and a heartbroken look upon his face. His hand clutched a half-empty whiskey bottle, his knuckles skinned and bleeding. From what, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t surprised.

"Are those from me?" He asked.

What could you say? They hadn't officially come from his hands, but the anger and rage the mark fed him had brought them to you. So wasn't it the same? "Dean, I don't blame you," you spoke softly, not wanting to anger the sleeping beast that was the mark of Cain. "When the mark takes over….,"

"Did my hand do that?"

"No," you sighed. "It's my fault. I was scared, and I ran. Not always watching where I was going."

Dean took a deep long sip of whiskey. He drank it like water, not even wincing as it burned down his throat. But you didn’t expect any different. After all, whiskey had been his vice for quite some time, quickly turning into an addiction to keep the Mark at bay. But it only seemed to ignite it, making it worse down the road. “Y/N, it is my fault. And the stupid Mark. I’m so freaking sorry. You know I never want to hurt you.”

Tears trickled down your cheek, your heart aching for him. He was hurting, but so were you, and you couldn’t go to him. Not while he had the Mark. He was unpredictable, and the thought of what those hands could do had you staying where you were, hiding near your dresser. You kept your words calm and low, not wanting to risk angering the mark. “Dean, it’s okay. Why don’t you go rest?”

He shook his head, gulping down more of the amber liquid, his eyes turning hard and unyielding. “Damn it Y/N, I’ve said I’m sorry! What more do you want?”

He threw the whiskey bottle across the room, and you watched helplessly as it smashed into the brick wall beside you. Shattered glass knicked your skin, whiskey stung your eyes as you cringed away. “Dean, I don’t need anything else,” you whispered, watching as he blocked the only exit out of here. “You’re all I need.”

“I just love you so much,” he slurred, his body wavering as he leaned back against the doorframe. “You’re the only one I can count on.”

“That’s not true,” you argued, watching as his movements turned heavy and slow. Not sure how much whiskey he had in his system, you stayed back. “You have Sam and Cas. They’re here for you. We’re all here for you. We’re trying to find a way to get rid of the Mark. I know it’s taking longer than…,”

“It’s never going away,” he muttered, pushing away from the door, heading straight for you. “This Mark is burned onto not only my arm but also my soul. I’m cursed until the day I die.”

You opened your mouth to try and placate him when he suddenly wobbled in his spot, falling to his knees. “What did you do to me?”

“I did nothing,” you exclaimed. You could see Sam and Cas standing at the door, watching silently. “Dean, we all just want to help you.”

Dean mumbled as he fell forward, landing unconscious on the rug of your room. As soon as he was down, Sam came rushing into your room. “Y/N, quick, grab your bag.”

“Sam?”

Cas was checking on Dean as Sam opened up your closet. “Y/N, you’re the one that Dean keeps going back to. The one that he will keep hurting until it’s too late. I can’t have that. So Cas and I are going to get you somewhere safe. Please don’t argue.”

You wanted to. You hated rushing off when he needed you the most. But Sam’s words were true. Sure, Dean had yet to lay a finger on you. But with the mark, and his addiction to whiskey, you knew it would only be a matter of time. “Promise me the second things change, I can come back.”

Sam nodded, and you quickly filled your duffle bag with clothes and your most valued possessions. Dean lay on your rug, snoring softly as you stepped past him. Your heart yearned to press your lips against his cheek once more, but you refused to take the chance. “Goodbye Dean,” you whispered, following Sam to the garage. Cas was staying behind, and Sam climbed into the driver seat of the rusted old pickup he chose to drive. You hesitated for a moment, and that’s when you saw it. Dean’s leather jacket. Dusty and forgotten, it sat beside the motorcycle. Dean had long since stopped wearing it, but still kept it around. Picking it up, you could smell the familiar gun powder and musk, and you wrapped it around yourself before climbing in beside Sam.

“Ready?” He asked, but you didn’t answer. Because you weren’t ready to leave your life and the man you loved behind. But this seemed like the only thing you could do. At least for now. Shaking your head silently, you let the tears slip down your cheek before they landed on the leather, and you promised yourself. You would not stay away long. You would continue to look, and hopefully one day you would have your Dean back again.

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[blackpoliglota]

⚜️Laissez les bons temps rouler⚜️

I just love this photo.  In the words of my cousin Toosie: “It’s SO New Orleans!”  Haha, but in all seriousness, if I had to choose one photo to describe my hometown It’d be this one above.  In all the cities I’ve traveled to, I have yet to come across a place where you hear live music on every other street corner.  Yeah some cities may have blocks and blocks of houses painted in bright, lively colors... and some cities may even have their own unique cuisine to offer!  But no city – and I mean NO CITY – comes alive with music and dance like New Orleans! 

This quarantine period has me seriously missing my city, making me WISH I took the chance to fly from Madrid back home before we hit beaucoup case numbers!  I mean, I was missing it before... but now?  MY LORDT!!!

As a means of quelling my yearning for Nola (”New Orleans, LA” for short), I’ve decided to dedicate this post to some terms and phrases influenced by (mainly) French that we still use today – New Orleans slang, if you will. 

“Beaucoup”

I don’t know if any of you caught my usage of this word earlier in the post (it’s bolded and italicized), but this word is an actual French word for “much” / “many”.  We always use it in a negative context to express an overwhelming amount of something, and it’s always placed in front of the the noun it’s describing, as in French.

Ex. “Stop bothering me boy; you know I got beaucoup things to do!”

“Banquette”

This is a diminutive of the French word “banc”, which means “bench”.  However, somehow throughout the history of language exchange it came to mean “sidewalk”.  In fact, my mom, her parents and her siblings used to use this word all of the time.

Ex. “Stay on the front yard, and don’t go past the banquette.”

“Bayou”

Coming from the Choctaw word “bayuk”, this word has transitioned into Louisiana French (also known as Louisiana Creole) as the bolded and italicized word you see above.  It refers to a slow-moving body of water found in swamps.

“Bébé”

This is the French word for “baby”.  Now we don’t go around spelling “baby” like it’s French counterpart, but I wrote it like this because this is how we pronounce the word.  When pronounced like this, it’s more often than not used as a term of endearment for everybody – and I mean EVERYBODY.  Doesn’t matter your age, gender, life experience; when you come down here get used to being called bébé, because that’s the only thing we’ll call you by.  But no worries!  That just means we actually like you!

“Cajun”

Having been derived from the word “Acadien” (French demonym), this term was once used to name the French Acadians who escaped British rule in Canada by emigrating to mainly Southwest Louisiana; now we use use it to refer to the descendants of those people.  We also use this term in tandem with food, music and other cultural aspects that came from the Acadians and their descendants.

Ex. “How do you expect me to survive without my cajun spices!?  I can’t eat anything unless I have my spices!”

“Do-do / Dodo”

***Pronounced like “DOUGH-DOUGH”

Some of you may remember this word from my Stromae post!  This term is derived from the French verb “dormir” or “to sleep”, but is also used as a verb to mean “sleep”.  I first learned of this word from a lullaby my mom would sing to all of her children, and even her grandchildren.  My older brother used to say it to my nieces when they were infants:

Ex. “Okay y’all, time to go do-do.”

“Fais do-do”

Yet another word from the Stromae post!  It actually means “go to sleep”, but it’s transitioned to Louisiana Creole to refer to a (usually) Southern Louisiana Saturday night dancing event for adults, an event during which children were supposed to be asleep.

“Lagniappe”

Derived from the Spanish “la ñapa” (”a little extra of something”), this is a Louisiana Creole term that shares the meaning with its predecessor.  Fun fact: a middle school Louisiana history textbook of mine would have lagniappes off to side of some pages in each chapter that displayed some extra information related to that chapter’s theme.

“Laissez les bons temps rouler!”

Aaaah the title of this post.  This is our city’s motto that can be heard at literally any event, whether it be a neighborhood second-line, the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, a Saints football game, etc.  It means “ʼLet the good times roll”.

“Let me learn you something–”

This is an older saying – therefore not heard as much these days – that my mom, her siblings, parents, etc. would say to each other whenever they needed to address/clarify something in an assertive manner.  Due to the combination of this phrasing being more associated with something that’d come out of the mouth of a Black person and it not being the standard way of signaling that something needs to be addressed, it’s considered “bad English”... which it isn’t since there’s no such thing as “bad English”, but I’ll get into this on another post.  ANYWAY, I included this expression because I came across it’s French counterpart in one of my French textbooks about a year ago: “apprendre quelque chose à quelqu’un”, which literally means “to learn something to someone”!  To those who may be confused on how to interpret the meaning of this expression: the standard version is “Let me tell you something–”.  I’ve yet to find anything on the internet to properly connect the English expression in bold and the French expression, but I find it hard to believe that the English expression would not have resulted from language contact, like several words in this list thus far.

Ex. A: “I can’t BELIEVE you told them something that was supposed to stay between us!”

B: “Let me learn you something: I’m not a blabber-mouth like a certain person, so whoever told your little secret is clearly someone who was eavesdropping.”

“Making groceries”

This is a Cajun English expression that was directly translated from the French phrase “faire l’épicerie”.

Ex. “I have to make groceries, so I’ll be out for a little while.”

“Mardi Gras”

Y’all should know what this is already... but if you don’t!

Literally meaning “Fat Tuesday”, Mardi Gras is carnaval season for us Louisianians.  It always occurs on the Tuesday before the Lent season begins, which is on Ash Wednesday, hence the name Fat TUESDAY.  Now as far as the FAT part goes: “carnaval” means “to flesh, farewell”.  The purpose of carnaval is for practicing Christians to eat as much of the food they’d give up for Lent as possible, this food being meat or “flesh”.  So it’s during Mardi Gras season when we break out all of the flavorful, fattening Louisiana dishes, especially our very own King Cake!

Fun Fact: this picture was from my birthday last year, which was on Mardi Gras Day, so naturally I had a King Cake for my birthday!

“Nainain” & “Parrain”

This isn’t as much of a trend anymore, but when my mom and her siblings were growing up they would call their godmother and godfather “nainain” and ”parrain” respectively.  These two French terms are the direct translations of their English counterparts.

“Praline”

The name for this sweet treat made out of pure diabetes – yet still irresistible – comes from the Frenchman who created this sugary goodness, a Monsieur César, duc de Chioseul, or better-known as Le Maréchal du Plessis-Praslin.

According to Wikipedia there are 3 types of pralines???  Which I didn’t know was a thing.  What I also didn’t know was a thing was that the praline mixture is more commonly used to fill chocolates out here in Europe... we just straight up eat pralines as they are in Louisiana, haha!

“Vieux Carré”

And last but not least!  This is French for “Old Square”, the name that refers to the most exciting part of New Orleans: The French Quarter.  Yes peeps, this is where you can find the famous(ly overrated) Bourbon Street, wedding second-lines, Café du Monde, po-boys, etc.  Fun Fact: the exit sign we have i the city that directs us straight to the French Quarter is still called the “Vieux Carré” Exit!

Congratulations for reaching the end of this crazy-long post!  I wasn’t expecting it to get this long... but I’m not upset!  If anything, this post did its job: help quell my yearning for my city.  Hopefully you can take away some new knowledge about my city and my heritage; I had a lot of fun making this post!!  There are loads more of terms, names, etc. that I could have added to this post, but I figured I should just cap it at where we’re at.  As always, if there are any questions, feel free to send me asks!  Sources are under the cut, so click “Keep Reading” below if you’d like to learn more about Nola.  Cheers!

Brass Band Photo: https://unsplash.com/photos/sEoR_ea8KoE

King Cake Photo: Mine!

Praline Photo: https://bernardscandy.com/product/original-pralines/

Louisiana Terms and Definitions:

http://www.experienceneworleans.com/glossary.html

https://www.crt.state.la.us/tourism/pressroom/almanac/glossary-of-louisiana-terms/index

https://www.wordreference.com

https://www.google.com

“Carnaval” Term Folk Etymology: https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/carnaval

“Praline” Term Etymology and History: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Praline

[imperiuswrecked]

How many times has Namor’s kingdom been over thrown or invaded at this point??

This is really long and if you wanted to count each time it has been destroyed and invaded it’s better to just give you a summary of the history of Atlantis’s treatment in Marvel. Marvel constantly destroys Atlantis, and it’s constantly under threat or has been invaded or Namor has been usurped. We also can’t forget the story of Atlantis begins with its destruction because it fell into the sea. Total count that I can recall is: 20 times of invasion or destruction. Of course there are some issues where the conflict was resolved within the same issue, or there were poisons and toxins as the water was polluted. Also the times that Namor’s cousins tried to take over the throne. These are the major ones and I tried to keep them in order. I hope someday Marvel can actually world build Atlantis rather than constantly tearing it down.

- Atlantis is destroyed and falls into the sea. This is called the Great Cataclysm.

Namor’s whole story begins in 1920 when his home is destroyed.

- When Namor’s father Leonard McKenzie and his crew began blasting the ice above Atlantis which at that point was located in the Antarctic waters, the debris from the explosions caused the city to become damaged and many died. (This is why Princess Fen was sent to the surface, to see what had caused the damage and bring back information, she falls in love, and has Namor.)

- During WWll his waters were invaded by Nazis, though not necessarily the main city, since Atlanteans were kinda spread out and Namor’s people were hurt/captured for experimentation.

- After the war, during an unspecified time in the years that followed, Namor gets amnesia and wanders the surface world and when Johnny Storm helps him regain his memories he finds an outpost that had been destroyed and his people were killed by the humans testing their nuclear bombs in the water. During this unspecified time Atlantis was destroyed by massive earthquakes, Princess Fen and Emperor Thakorr were killed. The reason for the earthquakes occurring were due to the serpent crown being discovered and used by human named Paul Destine (codename Destiny) who was the man who gave Namor amnesia.

- Emma Frost (the white queen) was ordered to bring Namor into the Hellfire Club since Sebastian Shaw (the black king) wanted Namor to become the white king. She fakes a suicide by drowning to get Namor to save her and take her to Atlantis, when Shaw didn’t hear from her for some time he sent out Sentinels to Atlantis, they destroyed parts of it in an attempt to kill Namor. Emma was horrified when she found out Shaw was responsible for the Sentinels. 

- Llyra the Lemurian, attempts to marry Namor while disguised as Lady Dorma to usurp the throne and have control of the kingdom, but her plan failed because Namor had already signed the bonding contract with Dorma days before the ceremony. She then kills Namor’s bride after running off from the ceremony. Namor leaves Atlantis because he wants to hunt her down.

- Namor finds a unconscious Magneto in the Savage Land and brings him back to Atlantis to heal, meanwhile Namor goes off on an adventure with the Fantastic Four and returns to find that Magneto had usurped his throne, Namor kicked him out.

- Namor deals with Attuma the Barbarian (an Atlantean enemy) constantly through his comics. Attuma is always trying to take the Throne of Atlantis, so I can’t count how many times Namor has had to fight him off.

- Namor attempts to create a new city for himself and his people after his marriage to Marrina, since he isn’t welcomed back in Atlantis, this city is abandoned when Namor is taken by Neptune to face trial against Zeus.

- Namor fights off the ancient faceless ones, an ancient monster race who attempted to invade Atlantis.

- Namor’s mother, Princess Fen is discovered alive after Namor regains his memories from another round of amnesia, (I think at this point it’s his third time having it?) but in truth it was not Princess Fen, but rather a witch-queen called Artys-Gran, who stole Fen's body in order to release her husband Suma-Ket, a pagan sorcerer-king who had been banished by Namor's ancestor Neptune thousands of years earlier. Fake Fen attempted to usurp the throne as well, but was defeated by Real Fen who was stuck in the witch-queen’s body and Real Fen sacrifices herself for her son and people.

- Llyra (the woman who poisoned his cousin Namora, killed his wife Dorma, and helped kill his father and is Namor’s arch enemy) comes back, disguised as Susan Storm she r*pes Namor (he didn’t consent to sleeping with her) and attempts to tell everyone that her son Llyron, is Namor’s son. 

(I need to take a minute here because dammit Bryne. This isn’t how Atlantean society WORKS.)

Turns out that Namor was sterile (HOW? TELL ME HOW BRYNE) because he was a half breed (EVEN THOUGH HE HAS TONS OF KIDS IN AU VERSES. This was also ignored/retconned in later comics) and Llyra had also been sleeping with a bunch of men (disguised as Phoebe Marrs) including Jim Hammond (who can’t give you a baby Llya, he is a freaking android) and Namor’s long lost half-brother Leon McKenzie (turns out Leonard got married at some point and had a kid) Llyra then shows up in Atlantis with a freaking full grown adult son, who was aged by a mad scientist, to lay claim to the throne of Atlantis through his McKenzie blood.

(AHHHHHHHHHH. BRYNE LISTEN THE WHOLE FREAKING POINT OF WHY NAMOR EVEN HAS CLAIM TO THE THRONE IS BECAUSE THE BLOOD OF NEPTUNE! NEPTUNE! NOT MCKENZIE FLOWS THROUGH HIS VEINS! ATLEANS HATE SURFACERS! WHY WAS THIS EVEN ALLOWED, EVERY SINGLE ATLANTEAN COUNCIL MEMBER WHO SIDED WITH THIS WAS TAKING CRAZY PILLS THAT DAY.)

Namor’s nephew Llyron gets the throne and kicks Namor out of Atlantis, right after we have the Atlantis Rising event, where Morgan Le Fay rises the whole city for her purposes and uses her magic for her plan. She is defeated by all the heroes coming together in this crossover event. Namor’s people die horribly, many of them suffocated in dry air, and Atlantis is broken. Namor sits upon an empty throne with no people left.

- At some point Atlantis is restored, during the Civil War arc (first one) Namor sides with Captain America, after the war, Tony Stark occupies Atlantis by keeping his army on the outside border, accuses Namor of terrorism. Namor discovers his long lost son, Kamar, who was responsible for the trouble on the surface, and even after proving that Atlantis had nothing to do with the attacks, still has Tony refusing to leave them alone. Namor orders his people to evacuate secretly, and then kills his son, and the man who murdered his cousin Namorita, by blowing up Atlantis.

- Atlantis is now gone, the people are scattered for a while, Namor sets up a city called Oceanus, then later is approached by Magneto to rebuild Atlantis under Utopia. New Atlantis is made and there is trouble with underwater vampires. This is the Utopia arc during the time of the X-Men. Atlantis is destroyed after Utopia/the Phoenix Five falls.

- Atlantis is rebuilt at some point, and then we have Avengers Secret War event and the Incurisions. Namor and Black Panther (Tchalla) are hostile to each other. Namor attempts to make peace. Queen Shuri orders soldiers to attack Atlantis as revenge for the attack on Wakanda when Namor was phoenix possessed. Namor’s people lay dying as Proxima Midnight invades. Namor sends her to Wakanda.

- Atlantis is now somehow rebuilt at some point. The Squadron Supreme destroys Atlantis and kills Namor. Namor got better by some of Squadron playing with time to bring him back to life, and some members rebuild Atlantis with him.

- Hydra invades Atlantis, and destroys a temple before Namor pretends to comply with them.

- Namor joins Jean Grey’s X-Men, the Kid Abomination is sent to Atlantis and destroys some buildings before being stopped.

- Namor’s warriors were killed by Roxxon soldiers while they were trying to stop Roxxon. Namor captures them, and brings them back to a broken Atlantis. Atlantis had been destroyed by the Final Host, his city was crushed. Namor releases the Roxxon soldiers to the Avengers, however he later kills them by flooding their cells in the surface prison. Meanwhile, the children of Atlantis, tired of their home constantly being destroyed tried to go to the surface to get help from the Avengers. They died on the beach while humans looked on and laughed and didn’t help the atlantean children as they suffocated on air. 

After learning of this Namor declares war on the surface world and begins to rebuild Atlantis. This is where we currently are in the comics as of Avengers (2018) #9.