#I'll be posting the next parts for the next few days. probably within a week! still editing some things....

[esotheria-sims]

Long Overdue Life Update

Whew, the title sounds kinda ominous, doesn't it?

Lemme say right off the bat that this isn't some Big PSA post or anything to that effect. I'm only checking in because I've been quiet for a while and figured an update is the least I can do. 🙂

Nothing major or life-changing is happening on my end; I've just been shitty at finding the time for sim-blogging these past months due to work and other day-to-day rl stuff, though I have been simming a bit in the background. Mostly going on download sprees and sorting cc, but I'm also about two-thirds through my next BaCC rotation and have a few new hair and handswap wips that are share-ready save for previews.

Oh and also: I got a new puppy! She's a 3-and-a-half-months-old Jack Russel mix and the main culprit for the abovementioned lack-of-time for simming. The cute lil' attention hog wants ALL the cuddles! "PC time? What PC time? Pet me instead, hooman!"

Everyone, this is Lucy!

Other things of note in my life, in no particular order:

We've had relatives from Croatia visiting last week with their kids. The kids are super smart and super cute but with the energy levels of a medium-sized nuclear reactor. It's been fun.

I finally went to see a Rammstein concert!!! 🤯 The experience of a lifetime, holy shit. I literally have no words to describe how mesmerizing that stage was. Like, I shit you not, I have 3 GBs worth of concert footage.

Speaking of metal: Gojira KILLED IT at the Olympics Opening! Also: Turkish Shooter Guy and Norwegian Muffin Man are living rent-free in my head. I'm the worst, I only follow professional sports for the memes.😆

I've been moved to a new division at work and am currently sitting in a small office with the two biggest goobers in the entire institution. Between that and me finally having accumulated enough knowledge + experience to have a clue what I'm doing, work's been pretty stress-free for once.

Conversely, my colleagues from the old division are struggling due to lack of staff, too much work, mismanagement, internal strife, and pressure from both within and outside the institution. I feel so bad for them, but at the same time, a selfish part of me is grateful that I'm not there to suffer the shitshow on my own hide.

I have unanswered asks from (probably) months ago and am Very Ashamed of the fact. I'll get back to you guys, I promise! 😰

[kgymstlle]

just saying

post college au / suna rintarou x fem! reader

— you should leave him cause it really makes me sick!



"i just washed that." suna says as you cry on his living room pillow. you continue to do so though, and upon pulling back, the pillow had stains of mascara where your eyes had been seconds ago.

"sorry." you apologize, rubbing the fabric with the sleeve of your sweater. "you do realize you're making it worse, right?"

you immediately stop. "i'm sorr—"

"apologize one more time and i'll kick your ass out of my apartment." he cuts you off. sure it was harsh, but suna has always been this way. it was all in good faith though— he cares about you a lot, really, but being all soft and using a gentle tone wasn't exactly something he was good at, even if he tried really hard to. tough love, if you will.

feeling suna's piercing gaze, you bring your eyes to meet his. "what did he do this time?"

"he broke up with me." for the nth time, suna thought.

tears voluntarily rolled down your face yet again, and all you heard in response from the boy was a sigh. he wanted to say i told you so— you're better off without him. and with me instead...? shit. he's still inlove with you.

but he's your best friend. exactly. therefore he knows you better, and he'll treat you better. it makes him sick. he thinks you should leave your no-good-(ex)boyfriend for good, and not get back together within a week of calling it quits like the continuous, year long cycle you're stuck in.

"we fought. we were on a date, but he made me pay...said he forgot his wallet at home. he also arrived pretty late."

a total loser, suna thought. you were already struggling to earn a living and despite being aware of this he's still squeezing every penny you have left. that bastard barely takes you out too— come on, the flag is practically waving crimson. i would never do that to you though, the boy thought as he stared at your distraught state.

you paused for a while. "he texted me an hour before i got here. he says that he still loves me." bullshit. suna thought. he knows that son of a bitch is cheating on you. that man knows how to fabricate his words, lying to you since the very beginning. when you gushed about your ex's big house and how he lives all alone, it was quickly debunked when suna drove by that said house by chance... and saw a woman through the window which he later found out was the jerk's mother. he never told you that though, to save you from the embarrassment.

"you don't need him, y/n."

surprised by his words, you tilt your head. "wow. i know you mean well rinrin, but...wow."

exactly. i mean well. i'll also help you get over it— wait, is this still right? the boy shook his head. keep it together, rintarou.

"just saying." he muttered in response, eyeing your next move. you roll your eyes. "anyway, i think i've come to the realization that i've overreacted quite a bit— he did have a very tiring day... and i was so pushy that it probably irritated him."

for the love of god you need to stop blaming yourself for every inconvenient thing that happens. you stand up and wipe your now dry face with your sleeve to remove the smudged makeup. this is the part where suna sighs, he knows you're going to fall right back into your ex's trap.

you fix your composure and hug suna.

"thanks, rinrin. for always putting up with me and my problems." for you? always. he thought. with a few taps on your phone, you slip it into your pocket and head to the door. he already knows what you're about to do.

"when you change your mind, i'll be waiting." you hear him behind you, still seated in the living room couch. you nod at him and smile. "mhm. thanks rinrin, i owe you one."

when you shut the door, suna puts his hand on his forehead and sighs. "i'll be waiting." he repeats. cause after all, he's better than your ex will ever be.....just saying.

[turbulentscrawl]

Could I get an Aesop, Norton and Kevin with a S/O who gets turned into a hunter because they learned too much? Like. Their Significant other was always very enthusiastic about discovering secrets and stuff, and they started acting off because they discovered something BAD. And within a month or so. They moved officially to the hunter manor? 🙏

If that's too much, feel free to ignore or decline!

I put my own spin on this, i hope you don't mind! This is SFW but going under the cut because it plays into the horror aspect of the game. Also, I don't have the time to whip up a kevin header currently and don't have the patience to wait on posting this....so I'll get his made and added later!

Warnings: body horror, angst

The worst part of it all is that you can’t even remember the reason for it all.

You were a seeker, a searcher, always nosing into places and subjects you didn’t belong. You craved to know the world’s secrets and that included the manor’s. You spent long hours, days, weeks, investigating the manor’s records, the histories of its inhabitants, obtaining the aid of…some horrific woman. A veritable snake. She told you something. Something bad…. Something that ruined you from the inside out, necrosing its way through every cell.

The changes come slowly at first, and painfully. Your muscles and joints would ache. Your head would throb. Your bones would move on their own, shifting and stretching inside your tearing meat. You drowned in darkness, and suffocated in blinding lights. The worst moments of your life came to you again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again!

And when all the pain finally melted away, you were different. The friendly faces around you were once your enemies. Your own face was that of a lion, and the original of it staring back was the clueless lamb.

Aesop

-He showed little interest in your “search for answers.” He wants to understand everything better too, true, but even the detective sorts among you had found few answers. Orpheus, Alice, Naib…. No offense to you, of course, I’m just saying he wasn’t be holding his breath….

-But far be it from this recluse to stop you. He of all people understands what it means to hyperfocus on your work. Work is familiarity, truth, and on some level he can imagine how a tangled mystery might be as comfortable to you as a corpse is to him. They both reveal truths in indirect ways.

-Because of your busybody separation from one another during this time, he likely doesn’t notice the changes right away. He probably finds out from someone else about the aches and pains you’ve been having, the sweats, fever, and all without a match in the records to explain them away. People didn’t get sick in the manor, yet somehow you inexplicably were.

-Then you sleep. For days. You’re still enough that Aesop almost feels like he’s watching over one of his 'normal' patients, like he should be doing your makeup. He’s calm, but checks for your pulse and breathing a lot. That’s when he notices you crying in your sleep.

-And things only go downhill from there. Aesop is generally level-headed, but there’s something about your aura that begins to disturb him. He refuses to leave, to abandon you when something is obviously wrong, but you go more and more still under his watchful eyes. You stop breathing, your skin goes pallid, but blood is still hot in your veins—he gives your thumb a pinprick to be sure of it. Your pillow is always wet because you won’t stop silently crying.

-On a whim one day, he decides to check your eyes. He collapses to the ground when he realizes the sockets are empty and raw. He runs from your room then, and when Emily returns to investigate your body is gone.

-The next day, you return in perfect condition. Healthy, though confused, and with no memory of that last several weeks of pain. You both had a match the next day, and Aesop decided he would focus on protecting you above anything else.

-But the Hunter was new. Eerie, unspeaking, blind…and cried ceaselessly. Aesop was frozen in genuine fear when the other you lumbered by him, choking on pained sobs, perhaps in search of your old peace.

Norton

-He told you from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Norton was not an educated man but he had sense—and experience—enough to know when paranormal shit was not to be trifled with. He still had nightmares about that eye….

-But you went on ahead with your business anyway. He let you, albeit while watching his back a whole lot more. Isolating. Swallowing his dread. You remind him of his mistakes before you even make them.

-He doesn’t think much of your first symptoms. Norton gets sore sometimes, and feels ill. The Black Lung never did leave him, and some days he handles it worse than others. You have nothing like that, though, and after several days of persisting discomfort he remembers that fact and sends you to Emily. She’s as perplexed as him though, and that makes him feel even more nervous.

-He also doesn’t notice for a while that you’ve stopped talking about your search entirely. He asks you about it once, when he catches you staring at the wall in a daze, and feels like a knife pierces his lung when you say you don’t have the faintest clue what he’s talking about.

-He keeps catching you like that. Paralyzed in a particular spot. Watching things, unblinking. When you come to, you don’t remember what you were doing. Your memory starts go slip away like Luca’s does, but somehow it’s more severe. You remember who you are, who he is, but everything else is gone. Some evenings he practically has to spoon feed you dinner because the concept of silverware and food have escaped you.

-Paranoid of what it all means, Norton starts to stay with you at night. But he gets no sleep during those times because all night you moan in pain. When Norton wraps his arms around you for comfort, he wears he feels your muscles twisting and undulating under your skin.

-Norton does not remember the last time he’s screamed, but he did the day after you finally seemed better. After he finally started to relax again. He was decoding in the top floor of the hospital when he heard that familiar moaning coming from below. He freezes at the sound, and when he looks over his shoulder he sees a twisted, stretched figure crawling up through the gaping hole in the floor. He knows the hair, the voice, but nothing else is you.

-And he screams, backed up against the cipher like a cornered animal. Never in his life has he not tried to run for his life, but when this Hunter of you locks eyes with him he can’t. He can’t run from what he didn’t fight harder against. Even when facing Fool’s Gold—himself—he’s never felt so much like a failure.

Kevin

-He’s always known he lacks your foresight. Kevin can’t begin to suspect the truth of things like this place. The sprawling vastness of it, he doesn’t trust himself to comprehend the complexity, the darkness. But you? Well, even if this it all a bit eerie, he’s got faith in your intelligence.

-He plays closer attention to you than the other two. The second you start to look off, he tasks notice. He sees the obsession in your face, the dark bags under your eyes, the way your nose digs deeper into things than before. You become…pushier with people.

-Kevin suggests you take a break, but you wave him off. You’re onto something, you say, and just need a little more understanding before everything unravels. He doesn’t like that word. “Unravel.”

-Which is perhaps a premonition, because it’s a great word to describe what happens to you. When you’re awake—and you are awake for irrationally long hours—you seem positively mad. You whisper to yourself in words that don’t sound human. He catches “Hastur” among them a few times, and “Witch” but once again his own comprehension fails.

-And when you sleep, you scream. The fist few nights it happened, he and a few others came running from down the hall and roused you. You didn’t remember the terrors. Night after night it happened, the response dwindling until it was just Kevin abandoning his own sleep to help you from whatever was terrifying you in your sleep.

-Then, you stopped waking up. He tried everything! Water, those smelling salts Emily had. Nothing would wake you and you just kept screaming, screaming, screaming like you were being dissected in your bed. After three days of not sleeping himself, Kevin carried your thrashing form to the infirmary. He was horrified when Emily suggested restraining and gagging you, but he had no other ideas himself. He slept in the chair nearby for what felt like weeks.

-And one day it all stopped. Kevin woke up, cracked his stiff neck, and noticed you were gone from your restraints. Emily was as confused as he was, but before the panic could build you emerged from your own bedroom, right as rain.

-He pulled you aside and cried in your arms until he passed out himself.

-The next match, though, started his own series of nightmares. Only a few minutes in he heard that scream. That blood-curdling wail that had been seared into his memory. It paralyzed him, and everyone else, on the spot. And then the vestige of your suffering appeared. Dark, shivering, voice raw and pained. The new Hunter that rounded the corner was undeniably you, and Kevin was sure he’d never know another peaceful day again.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Master of Me

Not totally sold on the name for the fic maybe I'll change it midway through typing this and forget to take this sentence out haha! Short little fic because TADC is on my mind, probably only going to be slightly longer than my other posts... we will see! Notes: Reader is GN, Gummigoo and the reader are not dating but they are close friends, AU where Gummi was allowed to stay at the circus, comfort fic, limited dialogue, reader doesn't remember anything about their life before joining the circus. like nothing at all. not proof read we die like kaufmo CWs: Gummigoo is still struggling to fully come to terms with the fact that he is just an NPC- really it's just some angst Word count: 1.3k

No one ever said it was going to be easy, and he didn't expect it to be easy. Nor did he expect it to come fast... but he had hoped that within the weeks after joining the circus it would become more bearable. It.. had.. but he wasn't making as much progress as he had hoped. Some days were better than others, where the thought that everything he knew was a lie didn't cross his mind. Other days it hit him hard enough to keep him holed up in bed.

You had been kind enough to share your room with him, Caine had yet to make a room for the new circus member- whether he didn't want to or he couldn't you weren't sure. You tried your best to give the gator some room so he can gather himself on his own time, opting to wander around the circus until it was time to go to bed. Sometimes he would even join you, allowing you to show him the grounds. It was all so different from what he knew in the desert, though... those were all false memories too, weren't they?

Today had been one of those days, that left him too shaken to get up and join the others during the day's adventure. You told the others to go along without you. Everyone but Zooble left, but it's not like they were going to step in to help you pull Gummigoo out of his mind- though they did surprise you by showing some level of support through the form of wishing you luck.

He didn't have the key to your room, so he couldn't lock himself in. Not that he would if he could- he was grateful that you had given him the space, but he would feel terrible for taking it a step too far.

The lights were dimmed, you could just barely see his form sat at the edge of your bed. You noted how the lights looked against the material of his body. If you squinted, you could see small specks of sugar within his lemon lime body. He had noticed you, but didn't say much aside from a short apology- did you need something? Was he in the way? He was about to get up before you stopped him and sat next to him.

"What's going on with you," You asked, though as soon as the words had left your mouth you felt stupid for asking. You knew exactly what was going on, sure you may not know what set him off in particular or what part he's focusing on... but you still knew enough. You watched his white eyes narrow at the floor, as if it was the most interesting thing to him. He sighed after a moment, and lifted his head to stare at you. He was missing his mother today, or at least his idea of her.

"Nothing really happened, did it?" He muttered, referencing everything he could gather from his memories. That seemed to only make things worse, though, seeing as they were all so... limited. Artificial. False. "Oh god, none of it happened, did it?" He added after a few more struggled words clawed their way through his teeth. You sucked on your teeth as you tried to find the right words to say. For a terrifying moment you wondered if NPCs would abstract- what if you said the wrong thing and triggered it?

The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

"It was real to you, wasn't it?"

Silence, and he whipped his head to stare at you before pulling his eyes back down.

"It may not have been... real... but they're still your memories, it's still... who you were originally meant to be- you know?" You added, but that didn't seem to help. "I wasn't supposed to find out, I know that much," He said lowly. He sounded angry, but it didn't sound like it directed at you exactly.

Suddenly he looked at you, with enough speed and intensity to make you jump just a bit and scoot back to avoid his snout. "But you don't remember anything from before you came to this... place.."

You only nodded, when you had joined the circus you actually remembered less than the other members- you didn't even remember putting on the headset that brought you here. To you, it was like you simply spawned into existence. You remembered how terrifying that was, how you seemingly came to and had to build everything up with what you were given.

"Just like you... kind of..." You whispered, and with a look he urged you to continue. "You don't remember much of anything from before you... tried to steal the syrup. You hit a.. block.. when you try to remember anything before that. You had... nothing, not to sound like what's happening to you doesn't matter any less.." You trailed off, then attempted to regain yourself. "You..." but your words failed.

"How did you make it work, didn't you ever want to return back to what you had before.. Before.." He stopped. "I almost want to go back, wouldn't that be easier?" He stared down at his hands, a habit you noticed that he picked up. He bunched his fingers together before relaxing them, before tensing them again.

"It was hard at first, for me too.. but," You chewed your tongue. It felt like it was plastic. "I got to make new memories," You managed to spit out. Gummigoo went silent, looking you in the eyes for a long moment before seeming to understand.

"You can't change what's happening, what's.. happened.. or what you were before- regardless of if it actually happened. You're in control now, and you're free to make your own choices now!" You offered a half smiling, hoping you had said the right thing. "It's not exactly like what I went through, I'm not from the digital world, and you are.. but, we were both new to this at some point,"

Quiet.

Then he laughed. He actually laughed, albeit weakly and airily. He shook his head lightly, tugging his hat down before taking a deep breath through his nose. "You're not wrong about that, (Reader)," He let his body relax. He was far from okay, but he was seeming to even out now.

He looked at you again, once more in the eyes. You forced yourself to maintain the contact, before he pulled his face away. His eyes scanned over the room, taking in everything they could see. "I'm in control now, am I?" He said to himself, his hand relaxing as he spoke. He lowered his head a little, before his mouth stretched into a smile. "If I'm going to carve my own path, I'm glad that you've given me the tools," He flicked a glance to you, "I'd be happy if you stuck around,"

You only smiled, before nodding. "Bit hard, since you've stolen my bed! We're stuck together already!"

You pulled another laugh out of him, this time it was a little stronger. "I can't argue with that, I do get rather sticky do I?" He smirked. "You don't have a choice of helping me, if you even think of stepping away I'm going to glue you to me," He joked. He was returning to his usual self, slowly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," You shot back earning a third laugh.

You could hear the sounds of the rest of the circus returning from their adventure. Had you both been talking for that long? Had that much time passed. You looked to Gummigoo, it didn't feel right leaving him here alone after the conversation you had just had together... so you had decided to stay.

At least for now, for as long as he needed you to stick around.

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part ten]

Summary: A message is sent and Azriel learns that Eowyn doesn't know how to swim.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: angst, insecurities, implicit jealousy, description and talk of scars, talk of past self-harm, daddy issues, mind-intrusion (learn to ask first, Rhys), Elain. (on a lighter note: sexual tension, fluff, nosy cassian, idiots in love but they don't know it yet)

Minors, do not interact.

a/n: helloo i hope there's still someone interested in my emo babies! sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, i'm traveling out for a wedding next week so i've been scrambling to get all my last minute things for my trip BUT hopefully this chapter makes up for it. i already have the next few written out so i'll probably post again soon (don't hold me to it, i still need to edit)

part nine

masterlist

"If it's all in my head, there's nothing to fear

Nothing to fear inside

Through the darkness and the light

Some sun has got to rise"

Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Despair

Elain was here.

Granted, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her. She was visiting the High Lady unannounced and uninvited after all, and Elain had more reason than anyone else to visit Feyre, yet it wasn’t exactly surprise at the fact in itself. It was a surprise at the defensiveness with which Eowyn regarded her.

Try as she might, she simply couldn’t shake off the feeling of irritation that the sweet female produced within Eowyn.

She’d been shown inside the parlor room by Nuala and Cerridwen; the High Lady was at her side immediately with a grin as she welcomed her inside. As she had done with the High Lord, Eowyn apologized profusely for showing up unannounced but admitted she felt rather guilty for making the High Lady travel all the way to the library whenever they got together, and felt it necessary to visit her for once, taking advantage of the Illyrians’ summons.

But the ever generous Feyre only waved her off and assured her she was always welcomed before playfully chastising her for curtsying as a greeting as she’d come to do the past few times, now a playful act more than anything, before introducing her to her older middle sister, Elain.

Eowyn found her feet glued to the floor as the beautiful fae rose from her seat and greeted her shyly with a sweet and kind countenance that was so pure and… unsullied, that Eowyn found it hard to look at her for long. She had only heard whispers of her beauty, both from the wind and from other faes that had witnessed her unblemished features themselves, but she’d never been face to face with the sweetest of the Archeron sisters. 

She had, however, heard other things about the fae.

Heard that at first, she’d rejected any sign of courtship from Lucien, half brother of the heir to the Autumn Court, and the heir of the Day Court himself; she heard, primarily from Gwyn, that she’d turned her attention to the Shadowsinger and encouraged a brief fling before settling for the one Cauldron-intended for her. She’d heard she was a Seer and that she’d correctly predicted the path Feyre Oathbreaker was meant to take before any of them could correctly decipher her visions, although that she’d learned from the wind and the voices in the water instead.

She knew much about the middle Archeron sister. So much that she knew the young fae, despite her mistakes and the hardships she’d faced, truly was as unsullied and perfect as she seemed.

It made something ugly coil inside her, a feeling she’d never had before, even in the days when any sort of emotion beyond the superficial wasn’t completely foreign.

Despite their pleasant introductions and the cup of tea the High Lady had insisted on pouring for Eowyn, she found she felt entirely out of place as the sisters chatted lightly. Regret began to churn in her stomach for her impulsiveness, making her feel anxious.

She took in three deep breaths and held onto it for six counts, before softly blowing it out for another count of six. She repeated the breathing technique twice more as she settled into herself, opening her awareness to her surroundings before bringing it unto herself, assessing both the negative and the positive emotions battling within her before letting them go.

“But oh Feyre, you should just see these libraries! They’re twice the size of the library in the mountain and they’re just magnificent! Helion gave us a tour himself and said most of the furnishings and the chandelier in the main hall are made of real gold,” Elain gushed, licking powdered sugar off her thumb from the baked goods she’d made herself.

Finding it a safe topic Eowyn could contribute to, she nodded along to her words understandingly, “it is quite grand,” she agreed. 

“Oh, you’ve been?” Feyre asked curiously, causing Elain to turn her attention to her, eyes wide and searching and so full of life.

Eowyn looked away and cleared her throat, “yes, I… lived in the Day Court for awhile. I know the libraries and Helion’s Court well.”

“Are you two friends?” Elain tilted her head.

“Sure, although colleagues is probably a more accurate term” Eowyn chuckled at her earnestness. It was conflicting, this feeling within her. Finding the young fae innocent and enchanting but simultaneously finding herself equally plagued by an anger that was undeservedly projected onto Elain. She felt strangled by the self-conscious feeling that she was too big, too dark, too much, to be around someone who was only in the first stages of adulthood and was only just finding herself in the world.

She inhaled deeply and once again let go of the smoking darkness within her, forcing her attention once more to the topic at hand. “The libraries,” she said abruptly, “you said Helion gave you a tour?” At her confirming nod she continued, “he must’ve told you the histories, then, I imagine. Helion’s quite the established storyteller.”

“Oh yes! He told us of the First Scholars who spent centuries building the libraries that supposedly form a great circle around the heart of the Court. I can’t quite imagine spending so much of your lifetime determined to build all those beautiful temples. It’s truly impressive, what they accomplished, I think,” she spoke animatedly with a pleasant smile, reaching over for her tea. 

“Well they surely didn’t have a hard time at it,” Eowyn chuckled, although there was little amusement in her voice. “The First Scholars loved taking all the credit for ‘funding’ those sanctuaries but always failed to give credit where it was due.”

When both the High Lady and her sister looked at her with owlishly confused eyes, Eowyn swallowed. “Well… Helion must’ve told you all our great pieces of architecture, including the Day Court’s grand libraries, were built by enslaved human laborers?” Feyre immediately nodded in understanding, clearly having heard that part of the histories while Elain only stared at her in horror.

Eowyn felt uneasy, and the way the young fae looked at her didn’t make her feel any less like a wild feral animal trampling through a thin crystal box.

“This was way before our time, of course,” she tried to mend the stricken look on Elain’s face and the concern on Feyre’s as she gently placed a hand on her sister’s arm. “It’s cruel ancient history and unpleasant to talk about,” she continued, as she felt she just couldn’t leave the words alone, “but it’s also history that cannot be forgotten lest we be tempted to repeat our mistakes.”

“And we won’t,” Feyre assured. 

Looking at her High Lady then, Eowyn noticed with relief that she didn’t seem altogether displeased by her revelation.

“Yes, you’re quite right,” Elain agreed in a small voice, her face still pale with anxiety. “I suppose Helion must’ve avoided that part of his lesson for my sake,” she tried to smile, but it came out shy and perhaps a little forced, “you see, I’ve had a harder time at adjusting to fae life than my sisters,” she confessed something Eowyn had detected the second she walked into the room. 

Although Elain had the features and the small slender body of a picturesque perfect female fae, there was something inherently human about her. It was an almost undetectable but ever present sort of foreignness to her actions, almost stilted whereas even Feyre and Nesta had mastered the fae way of effortless swiftness.

That wasn’t to say she was clumsy, she was simply very human-like, much more than her sisters. It was part of her charm.

Despite her sympathy for the girl, however, she found she wasn’t sure how to act around her. Even the priestesses in the library, who had suffered through all kinds of disgraces and tragedies didn’t feel quite as fragile as the former human girl. 

“Is that something you still struggle with?” Eowyn couldn’t help but prod gently.

She believes she knows his ire; she has only foreseen his betrayal.

She archived the whisper for later.

“Not as much,” Elain glanced at her sister and at her encouraging smile, continued, “my adjustment process has been quite slow but I’ve had plenty of support and company.”

“I imagine it can’t be easy at all,” Eowyn empathized genuinely, nodding a bit, “no one can reasonably expect you to be fine with transforming into a different species against your will within a decade, much less a year.”

Feyre nodded, squeezing Elain’s hand, “I didn’t have an easy time of it either. Even now, I still struggle to think of myself as anything other than human.”

“I suppose it should’ve been easier for me, having you and Nesta and Azriel at my side for so long,” Elain squeezed her hand back and as Feyre consoled her, lost in their heart-to-heart, neither sister noticed the way Eowyn’s spine straightened as she tensed. Her inhale was quiet but sharp and she could do nothing but hide her clenched fist under her robes, focusing on the faint sting of her nails digging into her flesh.

There was a shift in the air.

“And here I thought it was access to my gardens and kitchens that got you back onto your feet,” Rhys drawled as he stepped into the room, followed closely behind by the winged males.

Eowyn said nothing as Elain laughed and replied sweetly to the High Lord, standing up from her place on the sofa to greet Cassian with a hug. Tension bloomed in the room as she turned to Azriel. Stoic and unemotional male that he was, Azriel only stood in place as the blushing fae nervously turned to him.

“Hi,” she breathed lightly, her voice so petal soft and light that Eowyn had to bite her tongue to keep her mind focused on anything else.

“Hello,” he cleared his throat, mirroring Cassian’s forward lean into what was the beginning of a hug. Faltering but quickly finding herself, she hugged him back, if perhaps a little longer than she did Cassian.

Clearing her mind of all thoughts, Eowyn turned her eyes away from the scene to find not only the High Lord and Lady observing her intently, but also the General, who ridiculously began to whistle as he snapped his gaze away when her eyes met his, pretending he hadn’t been staring.

While Feyre observed her with curiosity— the kind sparked by a freshly shared piece of gossip that you know just might continue to unfold before you— the High Lord’s gaze was different, not unkind but still calculating.

She couldn’t help it. She quirked an eyebrow at him in challenge.

She was no stranger to the threat of intrusion into her mind, but as she felt the cold long talons of the High Lord brush against the fortress of her mind, she shivered at the sheer power behind such a light tap. Strikingly, she wasn’t sure how or what she did to nudge back at the brushing talons with a teasing caress of her own, as if tickling the underside of the invisible large shadowed claw.

The action seemed to surprise even the High Lord who squirmed slightly as his eyes widened at her and it was the shock of whatever that reaction had been that allowed for her walls to drop for a fraction of a second before she reinforced them again. 

But that second was enough, for as their eyes met, there was something there they both understood— a kindred feeling of someone who had known violence, of someone who understood abuse in a form that was beyond physical. It was the understanding of a survivor that lived both despite and in spite of what had been done to them but now wanted a life to reflect only the best of them, rather than remain drowned in a cycle of existential dread.

She understood him at a deeper level then, and his engagement with the priestesses and the library. Understood why he was so accommodating and encouraging for any and all projects the priestesses brought to him.

“Are you ready to leave?” Azriel pulled her away from her intense eye contact with the High Lord, standing beside her on a chair, directly in front of their hosts, their sister, and the General.

“Yes,” she nodded and stood to follow after him, thanking the High Lord and Lady for having her, if perhaps uninvited (to which they promised she was welcomed at any time, and then playfully chastised her once again for curtsying at them in respect), and calling out pleasantries and farewells as Azriel practically dragged her away.

As she was thanking her hosts, however,  she noticed that Elain’s eyes remained glued to the Shadowsinger; they followed the movement of his arm as he lightly placed his hand on Eowyn’s waist to pull her towards the door, but snapped back up to meet hers when she felt her gaze, widening ever so slightly when they met Eowyn’s, for she was sure, that in that fraction of a second, she had effectively conveyed a clear-cut message to the middle Archeron sister: back off.

Elain visibly shuddered from her spot on the sofa.

Eowyn couldn’t hold back her smug smirk when she crossed the threshold, easily keeping in step with Azriel as they walked out to the balcony.

“I take it you didn’t have to go on a mission right now?” She asked him as soon as they were out of earshot.

“No,” he said distractedly, “what did Rhys say to you?”

She tilted her head in confusion, “weren’t you there?”

“In your head,” he clarified, eyebrows furrowing and she noticed for the first time that he was quite agitated. “Did he go inside your mind without permission?”

“I don’t think he meant to?” The way it came out as a question had her quickly adding, “he didn’t try very hard if he did. I didn’t let him in.” Not the complete truth, but also not a complete lie. It was…strange, that interaction. It wasn’t that she allowed him to read her thoughts, it was that her mind was always so replete with thoughts and information and in such a flurry of awareness of so much around her, that all he got was an overall feel of her. Just as she did him.

“I’ll tell him not to try it again,” he grumbled, yet her response seemed to pacify him enough. Once they made it to the balcony he turned to her, suddenly thoughtful. “I was thinking...” She only tilted her head at him, allowing him time to speak the words on his mind. “Can I ….take you somewhere?”

She startled at that. Questions sprang up in her mind in a rush of: where? Why? How far? How long would they be out? Did she need to go back to the library and get a thicker cloak for the crisp chill in the air?

But as soon as she glanced up and met his hazel eyes, saw a mirroring flurry of thoughts and information behind his honey dipped leaf irises, all questions vanished and she simply nodded.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, taking her brief silence as reluctance.

She raised an eyebrow at that, “should I be worried?”

“No,” he said immediately, then turned to look over the balcony at the city. “Although…I would have to winnow us there.”

Her eyebrow only arched higher, “is it not within flying distance?” she followed his gaze then turned to him quickly with an affronted gasp, jutting out a hip and resting her fist on it as she scoffed, “or are you saying I’m just too heavy to carry?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with a hint of a smile, “shut up and c’mere.”

She took a step towards him, and although she’d winnowed hundreds of times, both on her own and with others, she found she didn’t protest when he looked down at her from under a few rogue strands of hair and placed his hands on either side of her waist. She gasped ever so softly at the feel of his large warm hands circling her waist, the weight of his battle-worn marred hands somehow both exhilarating and comforting. Although there was no need for such contact to winnow, the act being sufficient with just a clasping of hands, she instinctively placed her own hands on his arms, firm and warm as they were under his leathers.

Her eyes never once left his.

“We’re here,” he spoke softly, and although she clearly heard his words it took her much too long for her to register its meaning. 

“So soon?” The words left her mouth before she could think it, only realizing how blunt they were when he actually chuckled softly and the prettiest shade of pink appeared on the bridge of his nose.

She pulled away from him then to take in her surroundings, the first thing she noticed being that they were definitely not in Velaris, yet as she went to look around found herself restricted by his hands still holding firmly onto her waist.

He immediately dropped his hands yet she didn’t linger on the strange empty lightness she felt, as if he had been the sole thing anchoring her to the ground.

The lightness lingered as she twirled around, taking in the sight of trees and… well, more trees.

“Where are we?” She asked as she inhaled deeply, immediately soothed by the scent of unsullied nature allowed to grow without intervention from fae or human hands. Despite the lack of paths seen anywhere, he clearly knew these woods well considering he’d winnowed them straight into a small clearing.

“In the Illyrian woods, under a few of its older mountains.” She felt his eyes on her, yet rather than feeling self-conscious and restricted, she felt strangely free and like something within her flourished. 

She hadn’t been fully surrounded by nature in so long. It was more liberating than anything she’d felt before, even the sanctuary of her greenhouse and beloved library.

“What are we doing here?” She turned to look at him to find his gaze already on her.

“I figured since you allowed me to go into your greenhouse, it’s only fair I show you a place of my own,” he inclined his head to the side towards the trees and held out a hand to her. She took it, marveling at the way his strong hand gently curled around hers. 

She thought about his words as she followed him through the trees, not finding herself even the slightest bit frightened or apprehensive. It was dangerous, she thought absentmindedly, how willing she was to follow this male through the ends of the earth.

“An exchange?” She wondered as she digested his words, “what exactly did you take from my showing you the greenhouse?” She asked with an incredulous chuckle.

He stopped and twisted only slightly to look at her, beckoning her with his head to step in front of him. She followed his nonverbal queue, hand still grasping his as she lifted her skirts with her other hand as she stepped over the overgrown tree roots and ducked under branches.

“I got to take in the sight of you in your most natural state,” he stated simply, never detaching his hand from hers but using the other to push the intervening branches away from her to walk through.

With a swiftness born naturally only to a fae who’d grown up amongst nature, she twirled in a single step to look at him, eyes seeking any form of taunt or teasing before lifting his arm above her head to allow her to circle around and step forward with the other foot without losing momentum in her step, finding nothing in his tone or eyes that signaled to any form of mocking.

She remained silent for a while, considering his words and wondering where he would take them. The whispers that came to her were different from those she constantly heard at the House of Wind. Whereas the winds of Velaris carried with them brief declarations or fragments of words blown across the land that just so happened to make their way to her, the whispers among the trees were not intended for her to hear at all. 

The ancient language of the trees cared not if she understood or even wanted to listen, yet as she listened to them murmur to each other she caught hints of long stories shared, all of them deep in overlapping conversation.

Soon, they broke through the line of trees to what seemed like the bottom of the mountains— a moss covered wall of rock that sprouted all kinds of flora she wanted nothing more but to inspect but turned to Azriel instead, tilting her head questioningly. “This is what you wanted to show me?” She tried not to sound judgmental but based on the quiet laugh that bubbled out of his chest, she failed to sound as excited as she meant to.

“Not quite,” his lopsided smirk spoke of his amusement. “You like puzzles, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “are we playing a game, Az?”

At his answering smirk, she turned back to the wall, suddenly determined to beat him at his own game but all she had to do was look at the wall. Truly look at it and the long strands of ivy and moss that covered it to notice the plants themselves served as a veil to the entrance of what looked like a cave.

“In there?” She turned to him only to find him  smiling at her softly before he nodded. He stepped forward first, holding a hand out for her to take before stepping through the entrance of the cave and guiding her inside. It took her a second for her eyes to adapt to the darkness, but once they did she gasped in surprise at the sight before her.

The walls of the cave were a smooth crystalized black glass encrusted into the rock, and the absorbing light within it told her immediately that he’d taken her directly into an obsidian cave. Her surprise only heightened when she looked down to see what looked like a small black pool inside.

“What is this place?” She breathed.

“It’s the underside of an ancient volcano,” he spoke, quiet and still but so clear that she realized that the small gap in her mind that never fully filtered out the whispers in her day to day was completely silent. She couldn’t hear a single thing other than her own thoughts, the sound of their breathing, and the cool sound of his voice. “I thought maybe you’d like it,” he trailed off thoughtfully, “and maybe you’d be interested in going for a swim?”

“A swim?” her voice, only slightly louder than his, echoed through the dark cave, her voice bouncing off the walls going much further than the entrance where they stood. She cringed at the volume and ignored his amused huff before lowering her voice,“how big is this cave?”

He hummed in response, and with the curtain of ivy falling back over the gapped entrance, they were now encased in complete darkness. The cave was so dark that the only light shining was that of his cobalt blue siphons, which didn’t provide nearly enough light to illuminate the cave, especially once he began to take them off. “A few miles in.”

On any other occasion she would’ve balked at his response but she could do nothing but stand still as the sound of his undressing echoed within the cave walls. Suddenly, he stilled, “we can leave, if you don’t want to stay.”

As if that was what took her breath away. “I do,” she elongated the word, “my concern is, how exactly do you expect me to swim if I can’t even see my hand in front of me?”

“You don’t exactly swim with your eyes, do you?”

She glowered at him and he knew it despite the lack of light, if his small chuckle said anything.

“Look, if you don’t want to swim, you can sit on the edge of the rock here and dip your feet in, but I’m going in,” he stated plainly, sounding more animated than she’d ever heard him before in the most un-Azriel-like way.

She opened her mouth, either to ask him who he was and where the real Shadowsinger was, or to ask why he insisted that she touch the dark ominous water, but all words vanished at the realization that this was something important to him. He knew how meaningful the greenhouse was to her and he explicitly said he wanted to share something in kind.

This wasn’t a transactional relationship— friendship, she mentally corrected herself— despite their past exchanges. This was an act of trust and intimacy.

And Mother above, he was excited to show her this place. How can she deny him anything now? In all truth, she didn’t want to deny him anything.

“Where are you?” He called out from within the surface of the water and she startled slightly, realizing she’d been lost in her own mind.

“Here,” she replied immediately, taking a step towards his voice only to stumble over a few rocks before finding her footing. She reached out with her hands, using them instead of her eyes to gauge what was in front of her. As soon as she touched a larger rock, realizing it marked the edge of the dark pool of water.

“Careful,” he spoke and suddenly his hands found her as he held her on the edge of the water. “Here, let me..” He started but trailed off, wrapping one hand gently around her ankle, slowly and barely touching as if ready to pull away as soon as she spoke the words. She allowed him to continue, curious about his actions. Not taking her silence as consent, however, he stopped, “can I help you take your shoes off?”

She nodded, and almost smacked herself at her idiocy, before clearing her throat, “yes, that’s fine. Is- is the water deep?”

“Not here,” he assured her, “the further in you go, the deeper it is.”

Swiftly, he unlaced her boots and she braced her hands on his shoulders as he held her shin with one hand as he pulled the shoe away with the other and tossed it somewhere behind her, “hey!” She frowned looking over her shoulder at nothing, “how am I supposed to find it later?”

His small laugh was a little lighter, and she saw his face in her mind if not in front of her. Saw his eyes sparkle and crinkle at the sides as the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “The shadows will take care of it.”

Oh, right. She forgot about them for a second.

“They must like it here as well,” she murmured, mostly to herself, picturing the amorphous dark creatures roaming every inch of the place at their discretion.

“They do,” he affirmed, “they were born here… or so they say.”

“Really?” She perked up at attention at that, letting go of his shoulders when he tossed her sock off for his shadows to catch.

Without second guessing herself, she took a step back and began to disrobe, starting with her veil.

She heard his breath hitch for a second, and she briefly wondered if he could see her before he spoke up. “They like to say that about every place they think is interesting,” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh.

Summoned by their conversation and her laugh, the shadows twirled through her hair before spinning around her, snatching each robe and layer from her every time she took something off.

Once she was down to her undergarments, she carefully stepped towards the edge of the water. She hesitated, “are you sure it’s not deep?”

“Positive,” his voice appeared near her yet she couldn’t determine where exactly. “Come here,” he murmured and reached out for her, touching her hands first and placing them on his shoulders once again. 

“Oh,” she gasped when her feet touched the hot water, and quickly descended into the hot spring with his guiding hands. “Oh,” she repeated, this time in a pleasured breath. His chest rumbled with amusement once more, and she had half a mind to scold him for continuously laughing at her, but quickly dismissed the idea as she realized she’d never quite heard him laugh this much before.

It was quite a pleasant sound and in all truthfulness, it brought her a sense of pride and satisfaction at being the cause behind it.

That is, until he let go of her and she began to sink. Gasping, she scrambled for his arm once again when her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“You said it was shallow!” She screeched.

“It is,” he insisted, “I’m literally just standing right now.”

She waved her feet, searching for a bottom but could only briefly feel the ground with her toe. She scowled at him and his Illyrian bigness.

“I can’t reach the bottom” she gritted out.

“What’s the problem? Can’t you swim?” 

At her pointed silence, he guffawed.

“Shut up,” she scolded, “I had more important things to do than learn how to swim.”

“It’s a basic life skill,” he continued to giggle. Giggle. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

“You said it wasn’t deep,” she defended herself, “now you’re going to have to pull me along.”

“Fine by me,” he grinned. She could hear it. Wrapping a strong arm around her waist, he pulled her along as he pushed off the shallow end of the hot spring into the depth of its pools. Feeling his powerful legs kick in a practiced rhythm to keep them both afloat, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to keep her legs out of his way.

“Sorry,” she blushed, shimmying her hips away to pull her legs away from him.

“No,” the arm he had wrapped around her waist quickly stopped her in place, sliding down to her thigh and squeezing briefly to keep her close and shift her so she faced him completely, “stay like that.”

Something in her pulsed.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, and gingerly placed her hands on either side of his shoulders, trying to keep if only just a centimeter of distance between their bodies. But like magnets— and by the physical nature of water surrounding them, pushing at them— their bodies pressed against one another, unrelenting in their proximity. 

“Hold on,” he spoke quietly, the only words of warning before he let go of her to use both of his firm arms to swim skillfully deeper within the dark depths of the hot spring. After a moment of his rhythmic movements, she relaxed and tilted her head back, allowing the bubbling hot water to submerge her hair and soothe her weary head. 

Without intending to, she exhaled a soft breath of pleasure at the feeling of the hot water engulfing and massaging her skull, her mind deliciously empty and finally quiet.

Still, there was a string in the edge of her subconsciousness. A tickle of a feeling, a shy invitation. And after a long moment of well-deserved silence, she allowed the soft melodic voice on the edge of the water to fill her. 

Pulling herself up straight, she wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders and hugged him.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, brushing his cheek with hers.

She nodded against his cheek so he could feel it, and with her eyes closed, now feeling nothing but the water surrounding them and him, she replied. “They were born here.”

He inhaled through his nose, “the Shadows? How do you know?”

Slowing down their swimming, he fell into a soft tread.

Her top lip brushed the lobe of his ear when she whispered, “the cave told me.”

He didn’t reply, and when she went to pull away— she didn’t know what for, it wasn’t like she could see him— he quickly pulled her back with a hand between her shoulder blades, his entire forearm somehow hotter than the water surrounding them. She shivered, feeling her very center tighten at the feeling of his fingers brushing the bare skin of her back and his cheek lighting nuzzling hers.

“You can hear it?” He asked, breathing heavily yet he sounded different. Stilted and gritting.

“The water,” she clarified, her body reacting to his before her mind could catch up.

Everything suddenly felt even more electric as she became aware of everything around her.

Her sense of touch, of feel and scent only heightened by the smothering of her sense of sight. She could hear him, hear his thundering heart and rapid breaths, could smell his anticipation and growing arousal. She could feel his desperate need, and feel the tension in the tendons of his broad solid shoulders under her hands, and the tightness of his body as her legs wrapped around him like a python catching its prey within its fatal hold. 

But she could also sense his hesitation.

And that would not do.

“Az?” She murmured, and the sultry knowing voice that left her was not that of the seductive male-eating* fae she was before that. But it also wasn’t the voice of the apathetic and cold priestess. She was someone else entirely. 

He melted under her touch and searched her face with his once again, pressing his cheek to hers before turning it to almost brush his lips against hers, but she shifted her own face away before he could, gliding her nose along his jaw before smiling against it, laughing lightly, “is the hot spring getting to you?” She tried to lighten the mood, yet the solid strength of him under her touch and the evidence of the tension between them affecting him as well made it hard for her to keep a leveled head.

He held his breath for a second, then exhaled a quick breath, shaking his head as if to clear it as well. “Shut up.”

She continued to hold on to him as he swam back to the shallow edge of the spring in silence, and she used that brief moment to replay their interaction in her mind. She was no meek and shy virgin. She had never shied away from her own sexuality, had never been truly coy unless it was tactful. She was no stranger to casual sex and a light play of sexual tension with acquaintances or those she liked spending time with— male or female— but she also hadn’t participated in any form of sex (or sex-adjacent acts) for well over half a century. 

She had begun to think of that part of herself as extinct. Had even considered herself asexual, due to her lack of feel for anyone for such a long time.

Without her knowing, the winged bat male had sparked something feral within her and she didn’t like it one bit, despite how much she very much wanted to consume him whole.

But he was Gwyn’s male, for Cauldron’s sake! How long had she spent encouraging her friend to talk to him, how many hours had she spent gossiping with her in the libraries stairwells— getting shushed by the other priestesses every couple of minutes— about his favorite foods, his favorite books and the simple lighthearted conversations she’d had with him that she’d later shared with Gwyn? (Why she never shared their more intimate conversations with her friend, she didn’t want to consider at that very moment).

As she began to spiral for being a bad friend to both Gwyn, for suddenly wanting to eat her male alive, and Azriel for playing with him the way she had, she pushed herself away from him as soon as they reached the edge, suddenly needing physical distance from him lest she climb the rest of his strong body and wrapped her legs around his face.

Azriel, however, remained just as silent as her from his place only at arms length away, but she knew his silence was of a different kind. 

“I’ve…” she scrambled for something to say, “I've told you about my father before. About how he wanted a daughter.”

What better cockblock than the sudden cracking open of an age-old can of trauma?

Azriel hummed in reply, but didn’t say anything. She heard the rippling of water as he raised his hands to the edge of the spring, using his arms to pull himself up. “Wait!” She stopped him before he could fully pull himself out, “can we… stay a little longer?”

The sound of his descension back into the water was all the acquiescence she needed to hear, so she continued. “Clearly it wasn’t because he wanted to be a loving father to a little girl. He was— he is a lunatic. An arrogant narcissistic lunatic with ideas of grandeur, and all he needed was a five-coin divination from a pseudo-Seer to convince him that he would be the almighty Sire of the one female to bring truthfulness and balance to a world that blindly followed the wrong icons.

“He believed that although we prayed to the ‘feminine gods’ and other religious figures like the Mother, it was truly the males that puppeteered the restoration to order. At the same time, he thought that the High Lords of Prythian weren’t doing enough and were only the beginning of ‘a worthy representation of our world as it should be’,” she deepened her voice slightly to imitate her father.

“Your father sounds vile,” he snarled.

“He’s worse,” she assured, thankful that the tension between them had settled into something more neutral as they fell back into their usual deep but lilting conversations. “Anyway, he’s a prick who believed that his daughter would become the heiress to the Mother’s order and he would be the one orchestrating the way.”

She held onto the edge of the pool as she moved closer, while making sure to keep at least a foot of distance between them. “When I began to show my gifts, he reinterpreted his prophecy to fit me, and molded me to fit the prophecy. So, when he learned that I had this… connection to the elements, he forced me to discern how much and just how exactly they worked. 

“Wind was the easiest of course, but the winds report all kinds of things— some are truths and some are lies, as we know the winds hear everything and travel where they please. He never was one to care about history unless it was his own, so he didn’t care what wisdom the earth shared with me, but fire? ‘Fire is no liar,’ he always told me as a child, and while dealing with fire definitely isn’t pleasant, it was easier than water, for ‘water does not falter’ but I did. He would toss me into the lake and not let me out until the water spoke the words he wanted to hear… and he would keep me in there for so long…”  she trailed off.

She inhaled, pulling herself back to the present, unsure of where she was going with her words, only knowing that this was the moment. This was something he had to know.

“So I’ve always avoided bodies of water. Not so much because of my father, but because I’ve never much liked the cruel secrets the voices within it like to share.”

“I’m…sorry,” he spoke lowly, and he sounded so sad and so defeated that she immediately reached out to touch him. She placed a hand firmly over his chest.

“No,” she shook her head, “stop whatever verbal flagellation is going through your head, I don’t regret coming here for a second,” she spoke firmly. “I’m not even telling you this because you brought me here. I don’t want this to be transactional.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you. Because I’ve never told anyone, and I don’t want anyone else to know, but you.”

He fell silent at that, yet inhaled sharply when her finger unknowingly traced a ridged scar on his chest, only an inch away from his thundering heart.

He flinched away from her.

“Don’t.”

She pulled her hand away, “what happened there?”

“Ash bolt covered in bloodbane.”

She nodded slowly, gritting her teeth as she remembered his story behind it. “The day Elain and Nesta were made.”

“Yes.”

“And you… are ashamed of your scars?”

It was such a simple question. An intrusive one perhaps, but not for them, not here. “Yes.”

They both knew she wasn’t referring to the battle scars littering his body. He was ashamed of the scars on his hands, the ones inflicted when he was young and defenseless. The ones that had been forced upon him, not earned through battle and will.

Slowly, she reached out to touch his hand, where it rested at his side nearest to her, but as soon as her fingers grazed the outside of his scarred hand, he pulled away. “Let me show you,” she whispered soothingly, lightly grasping one of his fingers before pulling it up above the surface of the water.

Slowly, allowing him time to pull his hand away if he wanted, she singled out his index finger and brought it to the center of her lips.

She heard and felt his breath falter, but neither of them moved further until she did, guiding his finger to lightly graze over her lips to the left corner of her mouth, where she allowed him to trace her scar there, dragging out towards her ear and ending in the center of her cheek before grazing the line back, over her lips, and over the right corner of her mouth along the jagged line that dragged upward. “Eowyn,” he breathed, but she didn’t stop. She brought his finger to trace the even thicker scar dragged across her neck and then back down under the surface of the water towards her hip, just an inch or two under her belly button and to the side, where a healed yet scarred patch of flesh curdled. As he traced his finger along it though, she could tell he felt the initial wound: the branding of a jumbled insignia that had since been covered by the slightly thinner layer of a self-made burn.

“These are just the most prominent ones. I can’t feel the ones on my back.”

“Who did this to you?” He snarled, voice only barely contained as she let go of his hand. That same hand curled possessively over her hip, his thumb lightly but repeatedly tracing her scar as if trying to figure out what the insignia was, but she had long covered it and made sure it was unidentifiable. “Tell me who did this to you so I can deal with them.”

“That’s not the point,” she sighed, and when he began to protest, she settled her hands on his chest once again to pacify him. “It’s not. They will be dealt with in their due time, trust me. But I wanted to show you what I hide. What brings me shame.”

“That’s different,” he gritted and she felt his body vibrate with repressed emotions under her touch. His grip on her tightened. “Tell me who and I’ll make them pay.”

But she shook her head, “no. They will, when the time is right, but that time isn’t now.”

“How can you say that,” he pushed as he pulled her closer, “how can you show me how they hurt you and expect me to do nothing?”

“Because it’s not about them,” she snapped, “I tell you things, show you things, not because of my father, not because of the ones who hurt me, but because this is me. I am not a product of my abuse, the same way you aren’t a product of yours. These scars?” she held one of his scarred hands to her cheek to touch her own, “they are part of us, and they may reflect only a fraction of the pain in here,” she touched her other hand to his chest, “but they do not define us.”

She felt his body tremble under her touch, from repressed anger, frustration, or just a general flurry of emotions, she wasn’t sure, but no sooner had the words left his mouth— a tortured murmured “can I hold you?”— than she had her own arms wrapped around him tightly, melting into his arms and finding, finally, that which she had been searching for, yearning for, the second he placed his hands on her waist to winnow them there, to a place that was his own. Her chest touched his, and despite the thin layer of clothing separating them it was like their flesh melded together and their hearts beat as one.

This is what she needed. She cared not for anything other than the feeling of belonging that was to be wrapped in his arms. Azriel slid his hands away from her torso, cupping her face between each hand and she pliantly allowed him to. 

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply feel. She lost herself to the sensation— not just the distantly familiar feeling of being touched by another, but the particular and distinctive feeling of him. 

Ever so gently, his thumbs traced her eyebrows, slowly tracing back over her closed lids, and she didn’t know when or why but she felt herself tremble under his touch, as he glided his fingers over the slope of her nose before tracing her lips once again. With the most gentle of touches, he traced her scars lightly, once, twice. He cupped the side of her head with one hand, and with the other, traced his finger along the center of her lips, pressing down slightly to part her lips before allowing it to gently plop back in its place.

“Beautiful,” he breathed so softly, it was almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. 

She let out a small amused tuh, about to point out that he couldn’t even see her through the dark encompassing them, but the words remained in her throat when he quickly traced his thumbs over her smile, inhaling deeply.

All she could do was hold him tight and stay there, linger in the quiet moment of peace, of comfort, and of an intrinsic and deep rooted understanding. His forehead rested on hers, and the tip of his nose brushed against hers but he didn’t try to kiss her again. He simply held her close and breathed her in.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there in the depths of the dark cave that gave no way for any sort of light. All she knew was that she didn’t need the light to guide her as long as she had Azriel at her side.

—

They remained in the shallow edge of the hot spring for a long while, lost in tender conversation as she inquired after the cave, how he’d come to find it and who else knew about it. 

No longer hugging, as they treaded lightly over the water, yet never separating completely (always at least holding hands, as he kept her afloat), he told her of his formative years, when he discovered the cave when he was no older than twenty-five. He came here when he needed a breath away from his family, his duties, and even his Shadows, for although he was never without them, this was a place where the Shadows themselves liked to take their time to bask in the comforting familiar darkness on their own. 

Once Eowyn felt her fingers begin to prune, they left the water and with the quick effective help of the shadows always surrounding them, she managed to dress quickly and gather herself to leave the fog of oblivion that had settled over her with his close proximity.

Expecting to be blinded by the rays of the sun, she braced herself before leaving the cave only to find not the sun, but the moon shining down at her through the gaps of the trees. 

She gaped slightly, turning to look at Azriel who seemed just as surprised as her that they had spent almost the entire day in the cave.

“Are you ready?” He asked softly, and when she nodded, he reached for her waist and held her against him as he winnowed them back to the House of Wind.

“I-“ he frowned down at her, eyebrows furrowing as he considered his words. “Rhys is sending me on a mission for a few days.”

“Where?” She frowned immediately. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, of course, as Azriel was often sent out to fulfill his duties. He was never gone more than a few days, of course, but suddenly, the thought of him leaving caused an anxious knot to form in her belly.

“It’s this thing with the Autumn Court. I should be back in just a few days.”

She nodded, but kept silent for a beat. “You.. you be careful alright?”

He chuckled lightly, but this chuckle was softer than the rest he’d gifted her, as he looked down at her fondly. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“Az,” she tapped him lightly in the chest in the imitation of a punch, his eyes glinting with a tender look. “But you will be careful, won’t you?”

“I always am.” 

After only half a breaths hesitation, he bent down and pressed a feather soft kiss between her eyebrows, before he winnowed away.

part eleven

*male-eater = maneater bc i was listening to the song and that is indeed Past Eowyn

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel, @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland, @adventure-awaits13

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey, so...

This is going to be a LONG post, so please bare with me.

I've been doing a LOT of thinking the past week about what fics I'm doing and when. I've made some decisions that some people are probably not going to like, and I completely understand that, but at the end of the day, it's my blog and my time. I know there have been some fics that people have been very excited for, but unfortunately, things change.

As of right now, Til the Summer Comes Again is getting shelved until sometime in November. I love the fic, and I want to finish it, but I do think it'll be a lot more fun to do in the winter considering it's a Jack Frost fic. This past winter was really hectic for me considering I started a new job after being unemployed for a couple of months, and with the stress of all that and the pressure for other fics, it definitely fell by the wayside. The fic idea is something so special to me, which is why I'm shelving it instead of scrapping it altogether. We will see Jack Frost!Bob again in November!

I am also scrapping my Hadestown fic (In Spite of the Way). I'm doing this because it's such a specific story, and unfortunately, I just don't see myself being able to add anything new or interesting to the story at hand. It would just be a complete retelling of the story that's already there, and that's not something that I want to do.

I am also tabling my Studio Ghibli fics. I'm not sure if I'll ever come back to them, but they've been pushed to the side for so long that it just doesn't make sense to have them on my masterlist when it's becoming clear that other things are drawing my interests away. I'd love to re-explore them farther down the line, but for now, Our Hill of Stars and The Word of the Crooked are being taken off my masterlist. Whisper in the Wind I believe will be started come early September or so and be a part of the Autumn lineup.

Now that Meet Me at the Sea is done, my focus is going to be on finishing Fool's Fare and updating the Dagger Posse Universe here and there. Fool's Fare is most likely to be done sometime in April if I had to guess, which means...

It's time to talk the Sailor-Aviator Summer Cinematic Release schedule!

As we all know, I've just announced the MMATS stand-alone sequel: Down By the Bay featuring one Bradley Bradshaw. But what else is coming this summer? Let's talk about it!

There have been a few of you waiting for my Indiana Jones!Jake fic aka Fortune & Glory, and I'm so excited to announce that it is on the roster for this summer! Tune in to follow Jake and Bucket as they try to secure the legendary staff of Moses before the Nazis do!

Next up on the roster is the long-awaited Mafia fic! Titled after the age-old idiom, Two Birds follows the reader as they unwittingly catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses, both standing as the dual heads of the Dagger Syndicate. Two Birds is a M x F x M featuring Jake "Hangman" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (No Hangster).

I'm hoping to start these fics anywhere from Mid-May to early June, so stay tuned!!

Meanwhile, I will be dedicating some time to the DPU as well, trying to wrap up some fics within that to hopefully have it finished (or down to the last one) by the summer's end.

If you've stuck around this long, I just want to say thank you. Not only for reading this monster of a post, but for continuing to read my work and for following and supporting me through everything! You guys are the best! Until next time~

[pochipop]

＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (CHILDE X READER).

#. synopsis! — childe knows he doesn't deserve this, but he just can't let you go .

#. characters! — childe .

#. warnings! — angst .

#. word count! — 1k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — this is my "from the vault" era. most of the things i'll be posting for a while will probably have been started anywhere from a few months to over a year ago. i have a huge google doc just stocked with fics that i started and never finished, so i'm trying to wrap some of them up neatly enough to post them and at least let them see the light of day lol.

It’s always lonely at the top.

On nights like this, Childe realizes that now more than ever. Snezhnaya is his home, —but in a more abstract sense of the term. He knows the snow-covered lands and the bitter chill of frost like the backs of his scarred hands, and yet this nation feels less like the soft place he can fall upon each time he returns from somewhere else. It’s the center of his youth, the place that fills most of his heart, but things have certainly changed since he was little more than a young boy who loved making angels in the snow. The world moves faster now; days bleed into weeks in a matter of moments, and there are many times Childe wishes that the weather could freeze time like it does everything else around here.

Still, maybe it’s better that it doesn't. Even if it did somehow, he’s not sure how he’d spend that time anyway. A part of him is all too certain that he’d waste it away, losing sight of his goals within seconds.

He’s always been too driven by madness for his own good.

The viscous truth of it all is that Childe craves acceptance, but doesn’t really like to be loved. Even as you sleep next to him, his arm clutched in your warm, forgiving grip; he doesn’t know how to put such thoughts to the wayside. Selfishly, he wants you. Sometimes, it feels like he needs you. Realistically, though, Childe knows he shouldn’t have you. You’re not much of a fighter, and your only ties to the Fatui are through him, which he holds an insurmountable level of shame and regret for. If not for him, he’s certain your life would be a lot less complicated.

You’ve even said so yourself, albeit only jokingly. Those few little quips hold just enough water for Childe to drown himself in them, though. He wants to push you away as his lungs fill in and oxygen depletes, but you’re so goddamn intoxicating that he can’t bear the thought of parting ways. You snuggle closer to him as if seeking the heat of his body, —as if seeking the protection it offers from any ghoulish figures that could pop up in your otherwise sugar coated dreams.

Childe isn’t sure what he’d do without this, —without the ability to come staggering home to you. Truthfully, you’re more of a home to him now than Snezhnaya has ever been. He yearns for nights like this more than you’ll ever know, more than he’ll ever be able to articulate properly, because Celestia knows he’s never been very good with words.

Not when they’re genuine, anyway.

He can put on a show just fine, put that charismatic mask on and make strangers fall to their knees at his feet. But once they get a glimpse of the monster inside that lusts for violence and bloodshed on every battlefield, they run for the hills. And Childe isn't naive enough to wonder why. He knows, probably better than anyone else ever will, that he is hard to love, and even more difficult to be loved by.

When everything is going steady, he likes to send some ripples through the water just because he can. He pushes buttons he knows he should leave alone, —maybe because he can’t help himself, or maybe because deep down, he wants to push you away. You can’t just up and decide that you want to see him rot his way back into the earth beneath his feet if he flips all the right switches and makes it happen at will. There’s no disappointment to be had there if he’s the one who incites it; like flicking a match and watching your house go up in flames.

If he does it to himself, there’s no reason to be sad about it.

Self-sabotage has always been kind of his thing. Still, here you are with your soft tufts of breath fanning against him, trusting him not to let himself snap to the point of no return and burn everything down around you both (figuratively and literally.) And for the life of him, —Childe doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. You’ve always wanted a simpler life, one you know he can’t give you. . . But here you are, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away like he knows deep down that he should.

If he’s being honest with himself, and this is one of the rare times that he is, he knows he should be building his walls high enough to force you out if that’s what it takes. Everytime you lay with him like this, he knows he’s stealing that tranquil life you’ve always wanted away from you, and it eats him up inside. He’s not what’s best for anybody, nonetheless for you.

He knows, he knows, he knows. . . He really should just—

“Hey,” you say softly, and his resolve crumbles away like the walls he tries to build between himself and you. “Can’t sleep?”

Childe looks over at you and pauses for a few moments, admiring the way you love him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. Then he thinks to himself that he’s never truly deserved it, and the cycle begins again. He hums in acknowledgement, and you hold him closer, like you’re trying to mend all his broken pieces back together (even if you don’t know it.) It won’t help him sleep, but it feels nice to be cared for like this. To be loved, to be seen. . . To be stripped bare in the moonlight that spills in from your window is a blessing sent straight from Celestia, and it makes him wonder just what he’s ever done well enough to have ended up here in his lifetime.

“You’re thinking too much,” you say.

He almost laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I know.”

[illfoandillfie]

okay so, with a week to go until the end of the month it's not looking like i'll get a full advent calendar's worth of fics/blurbs ready. I have a lot of things started and half written half plotted out, but not a lot finished.

Instead, I'd like to post a few alternative ideas for when to post what I can get written and then a poll so you guys can vote on the best option. I'll detail all the options first and then put the poll at the end of the post.

Options

Countdown to Christmas I spend the first part of December finishing what I can and then post however many that is in the lead up to Christmas Day. So, if I had 5 things finished, they'd start dropping on the 20th of December, if I got 10 things finished it would be the 16th, and they'd post one per day until the final one on the 25th.

Countdown to New Years Similar to the last except they wouldn't be tied to Christmas, but instead to the end of the month. The final one would post on 31st December. I'd probably give myself until about halfway through the month to finish as much as I can. If that was 5 things, they'd start posting on the 27th, 10 would start on the 22nd.

New Years Celebration We do a week long 'welcome to 2025' celebration. I spend all of December writing and then during the entire first week of January I post it all. If I finish 7 things it will be one per day, if I finish 10 (or 12 or 15 etc) things I will post all of them within the same week. (Depending on whats happening in my personal life I may also be able to do some other fun things like ask games and tarot readings but thats not 100% guaranteed.)

Birthday Bash I save everything and keep writing right through to April next year which is my birth month. And then do some sort of celebration for a week to a month depending on how much I get written in that time.

Other things to Consider

Couple of other things that might influence your decision:

I have 2 weeks left at work and after that I'll be on holidays until sometime in January next year.

One of those weeks is a staff only week where I will have a lot to do but I'll also have a lot of time to myself while my boss is in meetings and i'll be able to leave work earlier than normal most days.

I have not yet moved house (divorce proceedings that A While to sort out) but it is very likely I will be looking for somewhere to rent after Christmas.

Poll

Now that you have all the info please vote in the poll. It'll be up for a week.

[makeste]

You still planning to catch up with the rest of the chapters?

thanks for checking in, anon. yes of course I am going to finish reading all of the other chapters. that's a huge part of the story I'm not just going to skip out on, lol. and I'll also be posting individual chapter reaction posts for 342-402 (plus the elusive chapter 321 reaction which I never did finish editing and posting) once I'm done catching up. all of the reactions in my volume recap posts are just excerpts; there's a lot more I haven't posted yet.

I think I'm going to try and make Fridays a general update day, regardless of whether that takes the form of a new chapter recap, an old chapter recap, or just a quick, generic "hey, still alive and working on getting my shit together" update. so with that said, I've unfortunately been busier than expected the past couple weeks, so I haven't read past chapter 374. my energy to do recaps tends to ebb and flow and is generally either all or nothing, so when the next burst comes I'll probably marathon another 5-10 chapters in one go. I also haven't read this week's chapter yet so I don't know if it will be up today or tomorrow, but either way it will be posted this weekend.

a few people have also sent me asks encouraging me to catch up at my own pace and not to feel pressured to write down long reactions if it's getting too stressful, and I just wanted to say thank you for the concern and reassurance. <3 but also, I want to clarify that doing these reaction posts really is my preferred way to read this particular series, even if it takes longer. I genuinely get a lot more out of the manga this way. I notice more details and it forces me to pay attention to things I might gloss over otherwise. and I'd be sitting here making jokes in my head and gushing over the characters nonstop either way, so it's nice to have the additional outlet for it, lol. and of course it goes without saying that I love the fandom interaction that comes from making these posts. that alone is more than worth the extra effort.

anyway so yeah, that's my update for the week! chapter 408 recap will be forthcoming within the next 24-48 hours, and maybe some more ask replies as well depending on how much work I feel like putting off lol.

[just-wrting]

The Babysitter (Part 4)

Title: The Babysitter (Part 4)

Summary: You do your best to get a little closer to Aaron, while still keeping enough distance that you don't catch feelings. The only problem? It doesn't seem like it's working.

Word Count: 2687

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: I promised that Part 4 would be what I posted next and here it is!!!! It only took me longer than expected. I also think that despite the migraines and my terrible work schedule I'll be doing my best to post 3x a week. Also yes I know, I didn't post this at 3 AM my time for once.

You stretch and lean back on the couch. Aaron had texted you that plane had landed and that he’d be on his way soon. It's already much later than you want it to be. Jack has been asleep for a while, leaning against you while the TV plays whatever movie is on.

You know you shouldn’t go to sleep now, not when Aaron is so close to being back home, but you can’t fight it anymore. You shuffle Jack into your arms, it's much harder to move a sleeping child than an awake one, and go to the bedroom.

You're too tired to take Jack to his bed, so you take him to Aaron’s room. You push the covers to Aaron’s bed back and climb in. You shuffle the blanket around you and Jack, tucking it under his chin. Within seconds, you feel your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could stay up until toron gets here. That thought doesn't stop you from falling asleep.

——

You wake up well rested to an empty bed. A slightly burnt smell wafts through the house. You race to the kitchen in a panic, worried that Jack has decided to mess with stuff. Instead Jack is standing next to the toaster, with Aaron.

"You should’ve woken me up,” you say as you lean against the doorway. "You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn't want to wake you. Jack said you had a long week so I thought it was best to let you sleep."

Aaron sets a plate on the table and Jack rushes over to you. He eagerly grabs your arm, and guides you towards the table.

"I helped make you breakfast!"

The way he smiles makes your heart melt, and you sink into a chair.

"Yeah I can see that But is it really okay to eat without you? Maybe I’ll wait a bit.”

Aaron sets two pieces of toast on your plate. The edges are darker than you prefer but you know better than to make a face about it in front of Jack.

"It’s fine. Better to eat it while it's still hot," Aaron says with a gentle smile. "Besides, Jack ate first.”

“That doesn't stop me from feeling a bit bad. How much sleep did you get Aaron?”

His silence is the answer. He got less sleep than you wish he would as is, not to mention how strenuous his job is. You make note to talk to about that habit as soon as you can.

—-

As you pack up your things you hear a knock at the door. You hear Aaron get the door and a voice talking about Jack. Walking to the front door leads to you seeing a mom and son duo.

“He's been talking about this all day," the mom giggles, "I'm so grateful that you’re willing to let Jack come over for a little bit."

You slide up to Aaron and take a look. The kid is Jack’s age, so you guess he's a friend from school. The guess is correct as Jack shoves his shoes on and runs between you and Aaron to go outside.

"I had some stuff to do so it made sense for him to go with a friend.”

"Alright. Just text me when you want me to bring him back. He's always welcome."

With that, the three of them left. You take your time watching Jack get into the car and leave, choosing to stay silent for a minute.

"When did you set that up," you ask, turning to Aaron. "Cause I didn't.”

"This morning. I figured it would give us time to talk about things.”

You nod, "There's still coffee left so we best get to it. I just want a few things to clear up."

A sigh leaves his lips. “I can imagine there's a lot to clear up.

You make both coffees. "I'm not upset with you, if that makes you feel better.

"I suppose it does. I don't know what I'd do if you decided to leave."

"'Probably hire someone else."

"'I don't-" he sighs, “Jack doesn't want someone else."

Your eyes soften as you look at Aaron. He looks exhausted. You want to push him into bed and force him to sleep. You feel yourself thinking about how much you'd like to help him .

“Good thing I love you guys.”

Aaron chuckles. “That’s good. He’d be heartbroken if you left.”

“I can tell. He looks so sad when I have to leave for the night.”

“He does, doesn’t he? What was it you wanted to know?”

You hold the coffee mug in both hands, staring at the surface. There’s only a few topics you want to ask about, you just aren’t sure where to start. There’s stuff about his job, not to mention a topic that you’re positive will be awkward, Jack’s mom.

“Let’s start with an obvious one. Why didn’t you want to tell me about your job? I’m sure that not wanting me to run far away was part of it.”

There’s a pained look on his face. He probably has lots of stories of things happening to people he knows that aren’t agents. You want to give him some sort of comfort, but you aren’t sure what you’d even say.

“You’re right. I also just don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve seen what people will do to people around me and everyone on my team and I was hoping that if you didn’t find out you’d be safer,” he explains, the expression on his face unwavering.

“I’m sorry. I hate to ask it then, but does that choice have anything to do with Jack’s mother? You don’t have to give me details, I just am unsure if I’ll meet her.”

This time, Aaron takes a while to answer. You worry that you’ve asked too much. Clearly something bad happened, and it still weighs heavy on his mind. You choose to focus on your coffee as you try to figure out how to backtrack.

“Forget I asked about it, Aaron. I’m sure I understand enough without you explaining it.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. You’re right. My job got in the way and she passed.”

You reach across the table and give his hand a quick squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m not entitled to information like that. How about you tell me about this team of yours?”

“I think you’d like them. They do tend to profile everyone however, which can be an issue.”

You give Aaron a smile. “Does that mean you’ve been profiling me since the beginning? And why you didn’t need a background check?”

“Our tech analyst is amazing. She’d find any sort of dirt on you I’d need. Not that I need any.”

“That is a bit terrifying. I’ll make sure to behave I guess. Is she super nosey?”

A small smile breaks across his face. “For sure. Penelope Garcia knows everything I could ever need about you.”

“So do you know everything from my star sign to where I live? Or is that just her?”

“I don’t know any of that. I just made sure you don’t have a criminal background.”

“That’s good. If there’s anything you want to know just ask me. Besides that I don’t have any other questions.”

You down the rest of your coffee and move to the sink.

“Then I’ll get to work. I have some paperwork to get done.”

You turn and look at him. A hand rests on your hip and you frown.

“You’ll do the paperwork after you rest, right? I know for a fact you didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

Aaron looks a bit startled at your question. “I’ll be okay.”

“What time did you get home? When did you go to bed? You slept on the couch, right? When did Jack wake you up?”

“I got home around midnight and went to sleep shortly after. I promise I’m fine.”

You cross your arms and frown. “That doesn’t mean much, Aaron.”

“I’m used to it at this point. Long nights are a part of my job.”

“Aaron, I work with kids. I know how to make you take a nap," you say, Your voice is calm, but you hope he knows you’re serious. "You worry about Jack all the time. Someone has to worry about you.”

“I'll be fine, You don't need to worry about me.”

"Too late. I’m already worried."

Despite the frown, Aaron isn't taking you seriously. His eyes are crinkled and you're sure there's a small hidden behind the coffee mug.

"Since you insist, I'll try to rest. I can’t promise anything."

“I'm sure you'll find the bedroom is nap ready. I swapped out the curtains so it was easier to sleep and brought a fan over.”

Aaron sets his coffee mug next to the sink. You were right about the smile. The corners of his lips are still upturned. You know he’s probably doing this to make you feel better.

—

Thankfully, you’re able to do everything you need around the house. The dishes, sweeping, dusting and various other chores are a breeze without anything or anyone in your way. Things you have been putting off due to a lack of time are officially done. The only place you haven’t cleaned is the master bedroom.

After a few hours, you hear Aaron begin his paperwork. You do your best to not check in on him again, but you can’t help yourself from peering through the crack of the door. His face is set in a frown, and his eyebrows are furrowed. The way he meticulously goes through each page is impressive.

You aren’t sure if he’s eaten, and you can feel the lack of food start to catch up to you. After setting your resolve, you push the door open and lean against the doorframe. Aaron looks up at you almost immediately.

“I know there’s not much in the fridge since I’ve got to go to the store, but did you want lunch? I may not be able to make something that’ll impress you, but I could probably impress a kid,” you joke with a light smile.

While Aaron doesn’t say anything, he gives you more of his attention. You take that as a good sign, and keep rambling.

“Does a PB&J with an apple and milk sound okay? There’s even some leftover brownies that I’ll throw in. That’s something a kid may like, but maybe not something you’d like.”

“Sure. That does sound like something that a kid would like and be impressed by.”

“Of course it is. I cut the apple up which is a superior way of eating it, and they get sugar. Not to mention, sometimes I let them have some chips."

Aaron's smile is less tense, and you feel satisfied. Nothing makes you feel better than knowing you can make someone important to you happier.

“I'll get started on that. Will Jack be joining us for dinner?"

"I thought that it would be a good idea for him to spend as much time as he wants with his friend. It gives me time to get you a contact list for his friends’ parents and that way you can have some free time.”

“If you insist. I already have free time. It's usually a few hours after he's in bed that you’re home. Plus he has stuff he likes to keep "secret" like things for you.”

The frown is back. "What about your dating life? I'm sure that whoever you're seeing wants to see you more."

“Yeah I'm sure that's what my ex would want. I'll make lunch real fast."

You make your escape to the kitchen as quick as you can. Talking about your ex unisn't something you're keen on doing. It was a messy ending.

You push all relationship thoughts out of your head. This is not the time or place to be thinking like that. It's lunch time, which means focusing on making food. Not that making a PB and J is hard.

The whole thing only takes you about ten minutes; you really should just buy an apple slicer. It would save you so much effort. In fact, Aaron's house was missing some of that stuff that would make housework easier.

You do your best to arrange the food on the plate, hoping it all fits. Balancing more than two plates is a struggle, so you choose to grab the drinks separately. Milk is hard to get out carpets if you don’t have the right materials. The smell will attract a pet and that's a hassle. At least it doesn't stain.

"Where do you want me to set this?"

Aaron shuffles the papers into neat piles, creating a space in the middle of the desk. You avert your eyes, not wanting to read the files. Even if they weren’t confidential, it isn't something that you’d want to read. After setting down the plates, you go to get the drinks.

The first few minutes of eating are done in silence. You’d like to get to know Aaron better, you just don’t want to come off as weird. It would suck if he misunderstood your intentions. Not that you wouldn’t date him.

"Something’s on your mind. Did you want to talk about it?”

"No. I think I’ll be okay in regards to what I was thinking about. On a different topic, what do you and Jack do together?”

Aaron looks a little ashamed at the question. You can sense he has a lot of guilt about how things have turned out. The look in his eyes makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t know what to say.

“If you ever want to talk about something, you can talk to me,” you offer. "I won't understand everything, but it's still good to get it out.”

“Maybe at a time when I don’t have so much paperwork,” he says with a sad smile. "I almost feel like-“

"Work has taken over your life? Tell me about it. I love kids, but there are times I wish I choose different job. Like the time all three kids had the flu, so I was cleaning up so much vomit.”

The rest of the meal is spent telling each other embarrassing work stories. Aaron shares things from all his team members, while you tell him the ridiculous things some kids have done. As the stories go on, you find yourself entranced by his laugh. The way his eyes crinkle and the corner of his lips turn up have your heart almost skipping a beat. For some reason, you start to feel self-conscience. Thankfully, the doorbell rings.

"I’ll get it. You probably need to get back to work," you say as you collect the dishes.

You stack the dishes, and carefully close the door behind you. You don't even bother going to the kitchen, opting to just set the dishes on a table nearby. Thankfully, the doorbell rings only the one time. You see the mom from earlier standing there, and swing open the door. Jack rushes in to hug you. You ruffle his hair as the mom starts to speak.

“I’m so glad that Aaron’s finally dating again. Poor man has been alone for too long,” she laments. “How long has it been?”

“I'm not sure. I didn't even know Aaron was dating," you reply with a shrug.

“Wait, you aren’t dating Aaron?” Her face is

turning red. "With how Jack talks about you, I thought maybe. He doesn’t talk about anyone but his dad like that.”

"It's Fine. Can’t blame you for what kids say," you offer with a smile. "No harm done.”

She doesn't say more, instead rushing back to her car. You don’t stop her, figuring that would make it worse.

You'll mention it to Aaron, hoping that he’ll be able to handle it.

For now, you'll be content to make Jack happy by pretending to be whoever he wants. After all, Aaron will have fixed it by tomorrow and there won’t be any more problems.

@rousethemouse @ash-whimsicalfanfic If anyone wants to be added to a tag list let me know!

[angelosearch]

Some writing updates, if ya'll are interested...

Since I substantially overshot my May and June writing goals, I've decided to stretch myself for July... 50k words. Yes, this is how I am choosing to spend my summer. Writing feels great and the sun/heat makes me sick and I have the time so... here we are.

And if you're growing tired of me, do not fret! I am certain that come late August/September I will be scarce. I am writing my brains out now while I have the space because who knows when/if I'll ever be able to do this again.

I have a few irons in the fire, one-shot-wise. I am working on my Squall and Angelo friendship fic request and I'd like to do a little something for That Guy's birthday. I think my FFVIII Bingo Card may be finished this month, but it's not my highest priority.

I am still considering trying again at a 5k AU for ficwip simply because writing Eyes of the Storm was such an amazing experience and cannot stop thinking about it. Hoping I'd recapture that magic. But we'll see.

The final chapter for A New Beginning is in the works, but right now I am realizing I may have gone overboard with the drama, so that progress may have to be undone. But either way, I suspect it will be posted within the next 10 days.

Vessel of Hyne's Grace and FFVIII the Musical may get some love, but both of those projects are very inspiration-dependent.

Chaos Theory. Trust me when I tell you I am working on that constantly. But I have never tried to finish anything like this before, and it's a big trust exercise between me and my writing ability. I have written 3ish chapters of part 4 already but I have no idea when I am going to feel ready to post them. I just want things to come together cohesively and I don't want to have to retcon myself. So it may be a few weeks before an update, but then you're probably going to get like two chapters a week or something.

That's the lineup!!

[izicodes]

3 Days 1 Project

Hiya! 💗Don't mind me as I will be taking part in the coding challenge called #3days1project! 🎉 For the next few weeks, I'll be diving headfirst into the world of coding and creating mini-projects within a tight three-day timeframe!

Why am I doing this?

Well, it all started because I'm bored 😅 Last couple of days, I found myself wanting to do something even more creative in a challenge form and a chance to push my problem-solving skills to the limit. Something that wasn't work-related and the projects I've been working on have been giving me a 'meh' feeling and I start to get bored!

The Challenge

The concept of the challenge is simple yet: I'll be crafting mini-projects using JavaScript initially, and then I'll later transition to Python (maybe even Django) and Java as I progress through my university studies. Each project will be completed within just three days!⏳

Using NeoCites

To keep everything organized and showcase my growing collection of creations, I'll be setting up a website on NeoCities. This site will act as a hub for all my projects, allowing you to explore, learn, and hopefully get inspired. 🌐

Posting Here

I'll also be sharing my journey and project updates on my blog. You can watch me fail and succeed - how fun~! If you have any project ideas you'd like me to try, that are achievable in 3 days, then do let me know! When it comes to sharing the projects themselves, I've got two platforms in mind: GitHub and Replit. Depending on the nature of each project, I'll decide which platform is the best fit. Rest assured, though, you'll have easy access to the source code and can even tinker with it yourself 😌👍🏾

Inspiration and Credits

I owe the inspiration for this challenge to an incredible blog I stumbled upon called @3days1project. Back in 2020, the creator did the same challenge, sharing their awe-inspiring end results every three days - you should definitely check the projects out! They've stopped now but the projects are still there for you to see! I found the blog probably a year ago and promised myself I will tackle the same challenge one day.

[ferret-does-stuff]

In true Lulu fashion I have fallen in love with both of the new survivors, so let me do my thing aand start analyzing Evelyn's appearance (I'll give Jeffrey and Richard their own posts).

Let me just start by saying she is STUNNING. She is the moment. Her design is so jahshshshshshhshshsh to me (i have a thing for characters with blonde hair in a bob and blue eyes *looks at Eichi and Albedo*). Anyway, I love how she literally looks like an A tier costume in herself. I normally don't really like hats but honestly she's killing it. The cane looks so beautiful and THOSE PEARLS.

Stepping away from my blatant lesbianism for a moment, I think I should talk about her occupation. For those who don't know, a Faro Lady was an aristocratic woman who was also a gambler, however it also became a term for women who would discuss politics which makes me think that misogyny will be a big thing in her backstory potentially. I do have a couple of idea for what her story is so here are my more basic ones.

1. The pretty likely "I gambled all my money away oh no! Thank God for this letter offering a monetary prize for playing this game!". This is a pretty basic idea, but it would definitely suit a gambler however basic it is.

2. She's a gambling addict looking for something higher stakes, and what could be higher stakes than a game of life and death?

As for my ideas about her kit I think we'll probably be getting her backstory video within the next couple of weeks (only if she's in essence 1 which is unlikely considering we just got two new characters in the same season) so her kit will release a few days after that. Part of me thinks she'll have a kind of RNG feature in her kit but that's also pretty unlikely and would probably be unfair. Since her item seems to be a cane maybe she'll hit the hunters with it? Another part of me thinks she could be a decoder, it's mentioned she has a very good memory so perhaps she'll be like lawyer and her decoding speed will gradually increase as she decodes. Either way I really hope she doesn't turn out like Florian (as much as I love him his kit is just so... weird) where she has so much potential only for netease to give her the goofiest kit possible.

[monsieuroverlord]

Could someone who has either commissioned artists and/or is an artist who has done commissions let me know if I'm being a complete tool or not?

Personal vent (warning -- very long):

I know it's a minor thing, but I feel like I'm going insane and I'm not sure if I'm being an asshole.

So, I like commissioning artists when I have a bit of extra money, right? It's fun! It's supposed to be fun! I like doing my own art and also paying artists for their art!

And in most cases, I have had wonderful results -- prompt and easy communication, relatively fair and/or quick delivery with amazing results. It's always so cool to see how people I commission interpret my requests/references.

But there's this one artist that is absolutely driving me insane. It all started back in May 2023, for my birthday, as a goofy indulgence for myself, I paid for a commission. The timing was perfect, as they had opened commissions a couple weeks before my birthday. It's digital art, which I know is generally quicker than traditional art. So I figure, I'll probably get this commission by my birthday if they're not too busy or sometime after. That's cool, I can wait. So, I paid upfront with a little tip included because a) it's my birthday, saving money is not for birthdays lol, b) their art is pretty and at the time, I felt they deserved a little tip for their hard work regardless, and c) I felt part of my request might be a bit challenging and/require a general bit of extra detail, so I was overeager to add a bit extra upfront. Why not, you know? (loop back to reason a)

So I paid. And a few weeks go by. So I'm like, "Okay, they probably have a few more in the queue in front of me" and at this time I'm seeing commissions for others being completed and publicly posted in the weeks between me paying and when the commissions were posted, so clearly they're working away even though they haven't confirmed with me directly, right? And I was very detailed in my initial request, so perhaps they'll reach out once they have a rough sketch for me!

I finally got a message 4 weeks later. They said they'll have a rough sketch for "sometime in the next week." I say, "no worries, take your time!" because shit happens, life comes up, you know?

6 weeks go by.

I send a message.

Ten days go by.

I get a message with rough line art. It looks great! I'm thinking "Wonderful, they finally got to work! New profile pic for me soon!"

Two months go by -- no update. I send a message -- "Hello, just checking in. I hope things are going well for you!" No response.

One month later (It's now December 2023) -- I send another message (similar to previous one). No response.

One month later (January 2024) -- I wrote "Hello, just checking in again! Its been five months since your last message, so any update (even just to say things will be very delayed) would be greatly appreciated! Thank you"

No response.

And I mean, they don't seem to be too active on this particular social media site, so I consider the possibility that maybe they're just not checking? Maybe! Not the most professional thing in my opinion, but I also recognize that not everyone works a busy office job where you are expected to respond within 48 hours on business days, you know?

So, I give it a week, then I try the social media site they appear to be more active on -- they consistently repost stuff and have been pretty active in posting sketches of personal art. No response.

I also try the site I paid for my commission on. No response.

The week after that, I send another message on the original social media site, admittedly much harsher --"Hey, I'm a little disappointed in the lack of communication. I understand that things come up and I'm more than happy to work with you, but I would appreciate some kind of regular update (even if just to say things are delayed). I'd also understand if you no longer want to do the commission or anything like that, but I'd prefer not to be left in the dark. Thank you"

At this point, I am puzzled. I understand MAYBE not getting notifications, but as a commission artist, isn't it more professional to at least update your client once a month or so? Like I said, maybe my last message was a bit harsh, but it's been around five months at this point.

Another month goes by (February 2024) -- i send one last final message, because I FINALLY caught them at a time they were actively posting and reposting things! Surely they'll see it!

Sure enough, I get a response by that same day, six hours later, with a colored update of my commission! They let me know that family stuff came up, they had a hospital trip, etc. and they're not sure when they'll actually finish it, so they offer a refund.

Again, I'm probably being cold, but I was frustrated, so I say:

"Hello, I very much understand that things come up, but it has been six months since your last response. I’ve sent four messages via Tumblr and one via Ko-fi in addition to these two twitter messages. I would’ve very much appreciated a quick message at some point just to say things are delayed/things came up. My apologies for being harsh, but I do not think the lack of communication is acceptable.

"And yes, I think a refund would be beneficial. Thank you."

And to my surprise, they agreed that it was unprofessional, stated that they'll make a bigger effort in the future, and we got my refund sorted.

AND THIS IS WHERE I KNOW I'M AN IDIOT! (a.k.a. part 2 of commission frustration).

Fast forward to end of September 2024.

They open commissions again -- I won't specify the situation for privacy's sake, but they stated they were going through a tough situation and needed money ASAP.

And I internally debate this for a week or so. I recognize I'm in a very lucky situation -- live solo in my own apartment, bills all paid, fulltime job with solid enough benefits, two adorable fluffy cats. I got a bit of extra money, why not? (I always budget a portion as "fun money") Surely, based on their last message to me, they probably learned at least a bit more professionalism, right? At least, just enough to update me once a month or so, right? (Spoiler alert: I was incorrect)

They respond a week later and accept my request. Great! I pay upfront and I think all is well!

About three days later, they send me the lineart sketch! Wonderful! It looks decent so far (good placement, features I wanted, etc). Great!

About a week later, they let me know that they're still working on it, but things are busy in their personal life. cool. I thank them for the update.

In the meantime, they're still posting personal art -- mostly their fav characters, things like that. I do art for fun, so I understand working on multiple things at once (sometimes ya need to take a break on a specific pose or gesture if for whatever reason, no matter what you do, it doesn't look right, ya know? Or, more personally, I'm currently working on a big piece with a lot of details, but I love warming up with some gesture practice in general.)

Just under 4 weeks later, another message, letting me know, they're still working on it, but personal life is busy. They'll get flat colors to be soon. I thank them for the update again.

That was 2 months ago. I sent a message the other day, as they had been reblogging things pretty consistently for the past week or so (so I know they had been online, on that particular social media site).

Then this morning I just gave up and blocked them. I can't do it anymore. It's not even about what I paid at this point! It's just not healthy to be checking every single day, sending message after message, to no avail. I recognize I didn't even wait that long before blocking them, but I am just so fed up at this point! And if history is any indicator, I'm clearly going to have to wait another 6 months for any sort of response and I just can't do it.

I have fair reason to believe it's not a scam in the traditional sense, but I just cannot take being strung along like this anymore. I know for damn sure it's not anybody else's responsibilities to manage my triggers for me, but I cannot tolerate any sort of silent treatment/things that really feel like silent treatment, you know? And this really feels like silent treatment. (long story -- childhood trauma-based, not the worst thing in the grand scheme of things, but not great.) I swear I tried really hard to be patient, but I'm at the point I don't care anymore. And I know I didn't provide any hard deadline (I like to think I'm flexible in most cases), but I don't think at least a quick message every month or so is an unreasonable expectation, is it? Especially since I usually message them?

And I didn't mention it was my birthday on the first attempt because I didn't want them to feel pressured, so I 100% did not expect it to be done by said birthday at all (Like I said, it was only a couple weeks before my birthday, and I didn't 100% know my place in the queue, so that's just unreasonable) but 8-ish months after the fact, with ZERO response for 6 of those months, just seems too long to me.

And now, it's been 3-ish months with zero updates for 2 months.

I dunno. I just keep flopping back and forth between "You clearly need to learn to be more patient!" and "This is completely aggravating. You are clearly not getting this commission. Stop trying." and either way, I feel like I'm somehow acting unreasonably in this situation. Maybe blocking them was too much, but honestly, I'm so sick of seeing their art and it doesn't feel like I was ever getting that commission anyway.

At the minimum, it's just feels like a severe lack of respect for me as a client, regardless of my own personal idiosyncrasies. I don't know. I'm just frustrated. Mentally, it just feels like spinning wheels in my head -- lot of effort, with zero to no results or conclusion. Commissioning artists is supposed to be fun. This isn't fun anymore. But I don't know if I am being totally and utterly unreasonable or not.

[scp-or-dread-power]

oh nevermind my apologies, i see that you just answered that recently

don't worry don't worry! it's perfectly fine, there's been a few posts since then.

I am debating going through and editing the polls w/ the answer once time runs out, since it'd take up less posts than mass-reblogging them or queuing the answers (I post alot on my main & other blogs, making the Correct Answers their own reblogs would absolutely put me to post limit within a few hours. Already at a hundred or so polls here I believe? or close to it.)

It'd probably be when I actually have energy & inspiration for this blog, like when I actually queue a full week or so worth of polls.

recently I've just been queuing the next day's & the day after's. if you've noticed any days that just. didn't have polls. it was bc i completely forgot about the blog & was too tired to read through an scp article to make a poll & didn't remember any Dread Powers I haven't already done 🥲

If I do, I'll probably start with the ones that people got wrong. There's like.. 2 or 3? i think? I believe all are Dread Powers (edit: just realized the most recent Wrong One was an SCP. huh, didn't expect that... though i did write it w/ the Dread Power keywords looking back...) so the most difficult part would just be finding the episode numbers since I can't remember them for the life of me...

[lotusprotocol]

dreamcatcher devlog: may + june 2024

< part of the level i'm working on! >

it's that time again! i've been making some good progress on this game within the past couple months, and i'm excited to share some of it with y'all! i'll also be trying out a more organized format this time around instead of pure bullet points.

burnout :[

the main reason i didn't do a single devlog for may was because barely anything happened in may. since the school year was wrapping up, i had a lot of tests to take, work to catch up on, and an overbearing amount of stress on top of that. unfortunately, all that left me with almost no energy to work on dreamcatcher. the only thing i did was make a track for the game, which turned out good, but not much else to report.

summer camp

i also worked at a summer camp for the first three weeks of june! this was my fourth year there, and the environment and community are still just as amazing. i won't disclose which camp it was for my own privacy, but i thought it was worth mentioning since it ties into the next point.

music

for the first half of june, i did a lot of work on the musical side of things, since it was the only thing i had motivation for at that point, and since i was working on music for the filmmaking class i was with at the summer camp i mentioned. i managed to get most of the soundtrack down, with only a few things i need to polish! i'll make it public once the demo is close to or already released. as of right now i'll probably put it on youtube, soundcloud, and bandcamp.

i've also been working on a custom audio visualizer on the side! i'll be using it for the yt music uploads when that happens

< still very much a work in progress >

masterplan

i've been using masterplan for a while, and it's been working out great! i think this has helped me stay more organized than anything else i've used. huge shoutouts to @solarlunedev for making it :]

i mostly did a bit more organization and set up a reward system, which has worked out well so far!

< zoomed out; no spoilers here! >

< one pixel = a half hour of work, more on that in this post! also i had to substitute the brown for purple because the map doesn't have that color right now >

gameplay

i started working on a new level a couple weeks ago (the one in the picture at the top)! it's been going great so far, especially since i came in with the strong motivation to make it.

on top of that, i made a debug panel and console! this doesn't affect the actual gameplay, but it's really useful for optimizing the memory the game takes up, as well as other important factors. the console's been a big help as well, since i can use those commands to test things instead of hardcoding certain things. in fact, i used the console to set up the camera in the picture!

< what the panel looks like >

art & visuals

right now, there's some parts of the visual side that are well off, but there's still quite a bit to take care of. the only art i did in these past couple weeks was for the tileset and background of the new level, and one frame of the player sprites i've been putting off. my main priorities here are:

finish player sprites to a basic level at the very least

finish character references, especially since art fight is in less than a day

make emojis for the discord server (which i'll shamelessly plug again)

speaking of art fight, i'll be doing some art for that too this year! i'm on team stardust, and i might not be too active but i'll put some character there. here's my account btw

right now there's just some art block i need to work through, but once i'm past that i'll be back and better than ever!

what's next

i'll keep this part within bullet points, but for the next month, i want to:

do all the things in the art section

finish the level and start a new one

finish the masterplan maddy

have fun :]

if you made it this far, wow! this is the longest devlog i've made by a big margin, and it took me around an hour and a half to fully put together. if you're interested in this and want to support me, then please consider sharing this blog with your friends or giving this an rb. it would mean a lot to me <3