#as he seems to be so connected to the Ley Lines

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐋𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. What a banger quest 「Bedtime story」 must've been in order to find out that actually, Celestia had reasons to nuke Khaenri'ah. It can't be said to be a joke anymore that Dain is carrying the lore on his shoulders, little wonder that HYV keeps gatekeeping him— In all seriousness now, it's interesting the thought that what was brewing in Khaenri'ah was so messed up that it could've endangered the entire world's safety, not just that of the kingdom. Not only that, but that it could've been prevented and Dain, alongside the Five Sinners could've done something about it. This gives some food for thought as to how influential the six of them must've been in Khaenri'ah and meaningful each in their respective fields to pull such feats and go away with it.

[squash1]

currently obsessing over the dreamer trilogy being an extended metaphor for maggie’s chronic illness/chronic illness in general. maggie’s body was unable to make cortisol — a substance necessary for life. a lack of cortisol causes extreme fatigue — a clear parallel to a dreamer or dream being alseep because of a lack of ley energy. maggie got sick while writing the raven king and as a result she wasn’t able to create what she needed to. in greywaren, when the ley line shuts down, ronan is unable to create what he needs to. like maggie, ronan’s identity is centered around creating — it is the thing that sustains him (if he doesn’t create, the nightwash will kill him). ronan ends up literally stuck in his own brain, in this liminal space between being alive & human or being dead & otherworldly. he is aware that life is continuing — in fact there are many moments where ronan desperately wants to wake up, to come back to reality but cannot because without the ley line he cannot exist as he was. in many ways this is what having a chronic illness is like; it is watching life continue without you, an unwilling observer to all that you cannot have.

while looking back at the tdt dedications i reread the mister impossible dedication that says: “to the magicians who woke me from my thousand-year slumber.” to me this seems like a direct parallel between maggie’s illness and dreamers being asleep and ultimately the ability to wake from that sleep with help from other people. in greywaren, ronan finally wakes up after both choosing to exist not knowing what his life will look like, and after hennessy tattoos one of the strongest sweetmetals onto his arm. sweetmetals in this instance signify medication or treatment of some kind. sweetmetals are not a permanent fix. they do not last forever, they’re expensive and hard to acquire but they functionally match the ley line — the life force you are born with. in maggie’s case, she is woken from her sleep by doctors who are able to supplement what her body cannot produce.

what i find extremely interesting is the connection art/creating/dreaming has especially in the context of illness. it’s incredibly circular. sweetmetals are usually art pieces of some kind — they don’t have to be masterpieces, they just have to mean something to someone — and they are able to sustain dreams (or in ronan’s case a dreamer/dream). which means in a moment where ronan is not able to create, it is another person’s creation that saves him. when used as a metaphor for medicine/treatment you get this message of the interconnectedness of human lives; the way we all rely on one another for survival. maggie survives because there are people who have found treatments that work. ronan survives because someone created ink that functions as a sweetmental, and someone else stole it for him, and someone else decorated him with it for his protection. they give this to him so he can continue to live & create and hopefully help someone else with his creations, just like maggie is able to help all of us by continuing to write and create.

[genshinnrambles]

noticed this similarity between capitano and the blazegem inscription

so I was re-watching the cutscene in the natlan archon quest because the Genshin Impact youtube channel posted it last night, and I noticed something:

I had just played Act II of the Children of Echoes-focused story quest before rewatching the cutscene, and the symbol on Capitano's chest jumped out at me given the similar shape to Tlazolli's Blazegem Inscription in the screenshot on the right.

Some light speculation under the cut:

An important caveat: the symbol on Capitano's chest and the Blazegem Inscription are mirror images, they are not exact copies. It's a subtle difference, but you can see it if you look at the way the loops fold over each other.

What could this mean? Full disclosure, no I have not finished every world quest and explored all of Natlan yet lol. It's possible I am missing some really damning evidence for what this could mean, but I'll go off of what I've completed so far. The Blazegem Inscription is made with the same techniques used for Ancient Name forging, though from my understanding it isn't an Ancient Name in and of itself. It's draw is it's ability to resist erosion and preserve what's engraved on it throughout time.

So why is a similar symbol on Capitano's person? There's been some speculation that Capitano has more direct ties to Natlan, and to be honest I was pretty skeptical of those theories until the cutscene with Mavuika. Capitano talks about a couple of things that seem oddly specific and, if I may, personal about Natlan: the oath made five centuries ago, the ley lines destined for ruin, Mavuika's plan (also made 500 years ago), and Natlan's "rules." And Mavuika concurs: "But it sounds like this is about more than the Tsaritsa."

I have not touched a lot of world quests that deal with Xbalanque, but I understand that as the first Pyron Archon he is the one who fashioned Natlan's "rules" that allow for humans to ascend as Archons. Maybe it's not weird for Capitano to have some understanding of that, but it still strikes me as odd given everything else he seems to know.

Another small observation is that almost every Fatui harbinger we've dealt with has had some kind of personal connection to the region we encounter them in. Not so much for Childe or Signora in Liyue (Pantalone arc in Liyue DLC when), or Signora in Inazuma and Scaramouche in Sumeru, but there is precedent in Signora appearing in Mondstadt, Scaramouche in Inazuma, Dottore in Sumeru, and both Arlecchino and hints of Sandrone in Fontaine (Arlecchino's crimson moon dynasty origins not withstanding). All of this yapping is to say, Capitano's evidently otherworldly and uncanny qualities aside, he may have more direct ties to Teyvat and to Natlan specifically.

And another thing - why is Olorun from the Masters of the Night Wind collaborating with him?

[merymoonbeam]

Thin places – The Void – Cauldron – Elriel

So in hofas we learned about thin places...

“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.” “Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.” (hofas)

It is long but what we get from this is that

Ley lines are used for moving magic and...communication between worlds

Ley lines are joined by time and space and void

The mist is a big give away for thin places

So how all of this connect to Elain and Cauldron?

When Elain got out of the cauldron...the water was "smokey"

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. (Acomaf)

Maybe it is not smoke but mist...as in Cauldron is a thin place?

When Feyre threw the book of breathings into the Cauldron...it went to Crescent City. How? We dont know. is it bc Cauldron being a thin place between worlds?

Also Cauldron has "void in it"

I managed to stand. To take one step before I felt it. The … thing in the Cauldron. Or lack of it. It was lack and substance, absence and presence. And … it was leaking into the world.I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron… It was a void. But also not a void—a growth.It did not belong here. Belong anywhere. (Acowar)

And who cauldron is obsessed with? Elain...a seer.

In my mystics&seers post I talked about the connection between void and elain more. But in the same post I talked about Mystics and seer connection and they seem to be the same.

In hosab mystics are described like this

The old male cut in, as if he hadn’t heard a word of their hissed argument. “Most astronomers and mystics have been put out of business these days, you know. Thanks to fancy tech. And self-righteous busybodies like you,” he spat toward Bryce. She snarled at him, the sound more primal Fae than she liked, but he waved that hateful, ring-encrusted hand toward the mystics in their pools. “They were the original interweb. Any answer you wish to know, they can find it, without having to wade through the slog of nonsense out there.”

And we know how one of the mystics "went" to hel and talked one of the hel princes.

what do we know about ley lines? 👇🏻

“These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop.

So what if ley lines and being mystic/seer is connected? Did that mystic use the ley lines? As in they are the communication between worlds?

And we have world walkers...

“The black salt only repels the Asteri; the mists repel everyone else. But certain people, with certain gifts, can access the power of thin places—on any world. World-walkers.” Aidas gestured gracefully to Bryce. “You are one of them. So were Helena and Theia. Their natural abilities lent themselves to moving through the mists.”

Theia was one of them.

In myths theia is:

Theia (/ˈθiːə/; Ancient Greek: Θεία, romanized: Theía, lit. 'divine', also rendered Thea or Thia), also called Euryphaessa (Ancient Greek: Εὐρυφάεσσα) "wide-shining", is one of the twelve Titans, the children of the earth goddess Gaia and the sky god Uranus in Greek mythology. She is the Greek goddess of sight and vision, and by extension the goddess who endowed gold, silver, and gems with their brilliance and intrinsic value.

Maybe sight and thin places/ley lines are more connected than we think?

Also I have been fascinated by this all this time but we have "pocket" realms or any pocket related thing...theia can do it, rhys can do it, apollion and maybe...azriel?

With theia we see this:

By the grace of the Mother, she was paranoid enough about any new allies or companions that she hid the Horn and Harp. She created a pocket of nothingness, she told me, and stashed them there. Only she could access that pocket of nothingness—only she could retrieve the Horn and Harp from its depths. (Hofas)

with apollion we have this:

The seventh and most lethal of the demon princes of Hel was in his mind- “I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world's radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.”

Acomaf rhys:

Rhys reached into a bag I hadn’t realized he’d been carrying—no, one he’d summoned from whatever pocket between realms he used for storage.

And with azriel we have this:

Azriel didn’t give them a chance to exchange another word before murmuring shadows swept around them. Nesta couldn’t help clinging to Azriel, gleaning on some innate level that if she let go, she would tumble through this space between places and be lost forever.

We always known azriel's type of winnowing is different...BUT HOW DIFFERENT?

Also side note...Fionn probably has Shadow powers bc Helena and Silene both have shadow and starborn power so them taking the shadow from fionn is possible. I went into more detail about elriel connection to fionn in this post you can read it there.

So...pocket realms maybe they can somehow access space between the worlds? Thin places maybe connected to it?

Also side note this is maybe kinda crack but elriel scene also has "space between"

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Maybe Im reading into it but the fact that the only connection "the space between" them is TT...THE KNIFE THAT CAN UNDO THINGS...the knife with gwydion can create Void. The void that is connected with the ley lines/thin places.

The end. 🫡💜

[blazingstar24]

What if the disaster that struck Pravenier is connected to the destruction of Molaesmyr?

Hear me out, both incidents happened several hundreds of years back. Though the exact timeframe of Pravenier is unknown. Pravenier was destroyed by a mass poisoning event and Molaesmyr was destroyed by poisonous fumes (miasma) which killed and corrupted anything it came in touch with.

In Chet’s vision, he got the sense that the poison came from something settling within the water supply of the entire area. The corruption in Molaesmyr came from beneath the city as the crystal was in the base of Caes Mosor.

Is it possible that where the Amethyst Gulch lies on the planes, it lines up with Molaesmyr in the Material Plane? And the poison that settle into the water was the miasma from Molaesmyr. Because when Ludinus tried to do the communion, it was during an apogee solstice. Which means the ley lines were screwy so he could try and reach Ruidus. But also on the flip side, ley lines aren’t just one way doors. They can spill into many different places.

Also the idea of needing to close a communion is something we see in many other sorts of summoning entities rituals. We know Ludinus makes it out of Molaesmyr somehow (despite all things considered as wouldn’t he have been at the very epicenter of the miasma?) Which implies he had to have bailed quickly to not get fucked up at the very least if not die. So what if the communion was left open? And the same poison that destroyed Molaesmyr spilled through to other places. Places like Pravenier, which seemed to have a similar temple to the Archheart. And the crystal that Ludinus used was theorized to have some kind of connection to them.

It certainly could be nothing but I just got strong Molaesmyr parallels from this place!

[wingedblooms]

Bright as the dawn

This meta is a continuation of Forbidden secrets and Blooming dreams, as it explores how Elain—glowing with the dawn—might restore the land and Cauldron, and has major spoilers for hofas. Please avoid if needed.

Long ago, Wyrd (Mother/Cauldron/Fate/Chaos) was once bound to the soul of Prythian’s world. She was pure, undiluted life until she was warped into a tool of destruction by the Asteri, imbued with their magic through, theoretically, the Void in the Book of Breathings. They claimed the magic of the land (most likely using ley lines, which seem to be the threads or veins of the land’s soul) to hide magic that would sustain them, much like how the Starborn daughters hid pieces of magic in the land where the ley lines—the fabric of the world—wove together, overlapping like a braid in a larger tapestry.

As we saw in the prophetic weaver scene with Feyre and Elain in acofas, iridescent light—embodying Hope—is the only light that can pierce the Void. We may see Elain and Azriel wield these elements through Truth-Teller and Gwydion to unmake the Asteri’s magical chains on the land and/or Wyrd, but I have also wondered if Elain herself, or in combination with someone else’s raw magic as @offtorivendell so beautifully wrote in her Dusk meta, could heal and unheal, make and unmake.

If Elain and Azriel address the land and Wyrd plot Sarah has set up, then I could see them mapping the secrets of the land and releasing the sacred peaks first, which might affect what many of us suspect is Elain’s pure, natural magic that mirrors the Wyrd and her land: Life itself. These challenges may help her level up as @willowmeres has suggested, and will teach her what she needs to know to unbind and restore Wyrd, which is likely to be more complex.

Wyrd was imbued with the Asteri’s magic, which in discussion with @silverlinedeyes, @psychee92, @cassianfanclub, @offtorivendell, and @psychologynerd at different points, reminded me of how the Valg imbued objects with their essence, and their essence was often described as a void.

It was a void. It was a new, dark hell.

Her magic had been a pulsing star that flared against the wall that the darkness had crafted between the top of his spine and the rest of it. She knew—knew without testing—that if she bypassed it, jumped right to the base of his spine … it would find her there, too. (tod)

The Asteri, like the Valg, devour light (life) like the Void in that weaver’s tapestry. It’s probably no coincidence that the Book of Breathings is made of two halves: Chaos and Void. Void may have very well been added by the Asteri to control the magic they imbued in Urd, and what was left behind might even be feeding off of the living half, Chaos (Wyrd). It may not be a matter of solely unbinding the two halves of the book.

Some wounds—like those inflicted by creatures of the Void—require the healer to walk the road with the patient.

If she could even find a way to help him. She’d promised to heal him, and though some injuries required the healer to walk the road with their patient, this injury of his— (tod)

Yrene learns how to destroy the Void by walking this road with Chaol, and I imagine something similar will be required of Elain. Yrene must tread where she fears to go most. In each big healing scene, she travels to the very core—or root—of the wound and uses her pure, undiluted powers of life to unbind her patient from the Valg and unmake the rotting void within them. She connects with them in body and soul, just like Elain might with Wyrd through her sight. Elain will also likely need to tread where she fears most to go, descending into Wyrd (magically and/or physically) to where the dark void festers.

And since this is no small feat, I imagine it rivaling the unmaking of Erawan:

Erawan panted as he approached. “Healer,” he breathed, his unholy power emanating from him like a black aura.

She backed away a step, closer to the balcony rail.

The dark king followed her, a predator closing in on long-awaited prey. “Do you know how long I have looked for you?” The wind tossed his golden hair.

“Do you even know what you can do?”

She hesitated, slamming into the balcony rail behind her, the drop so hideously endless.

“How do you think we took the keys in the first place?” A hateful, horrible smile. “In my world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us, but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces of it from its very essence. Maeve never learned it—and never shall.” His jagged breathing deepened as he savored each word, each step closer. “It took all of them to hew the keys from the gate—every one of the healers amongst my kind. But you, with your gifts—it would only take you to do it again. And with the keys now returned to the gate …” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen thought so, too. She could not conceive that I wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any harm could come to you. And now that I have … What fun you and I shall have, Yrene Towers.”

Erawan reveals that Yrene, as a healer with raw magic, can unbind the very fabric of life, of worlds. If Elain was given the vision and gifts (such powers) to restore the land and Wyrd, as many of us suspect, she is going to need to unmake the magic of the parasite Asteri and unbind Urd from the soul, or fabric, of the world.

[…] Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn.

Lysandra opened her talons, delicately dropping Yrene to the balcony stones, light streaming off her as she sprinted headfirst to Erawan.

[…]

Erawan screamed. But the sound was nothing compared to what came out of him as Yrene reached him, hands like burning stars, and slammed them upon his chest.

The world slowed and warped.

Yet Yrene was not afraid.

Not afraid at all of the blinding white light that erupted from her, searing into Erawan.

He arched, shrieking, but Damaris held him down, that ancient blade unwavering.

His dark power rose, a wave to devour the world.

[…]

Yrene did not let it touch her. Touch any of them.

Hope.

It was hope that Chaol had said she carried with her. Hope that now grew in her womb.

For a better future. For a free world.

[…]

The gods might have been gone, Silba with them, but Yrene could have sworn she felt those warm, gentle hands guiding her. Pushing upon Erawan’s chest as he thrashed, the force of a thousand dark suns trying to rip her apart.

Her power tore through them all.

Tore and shredded and ripped into him, into the writhing worm that lay inside.

The parasite. The infection that fed on life, on strength, on joy.

Distantly, far away, Yrene knew she was incandescent with light, brighter than a noontime sun. Knew that the dark king beneath her was nothing more than a writhing pit of snakes, biting at her, trying to poison her light.

You have no power over me, Yrene said to him. Into the body that housed that parasite of parasites.

I shall rip you apart, he hissed. Starting with that babe in your—

A thought and Yrene’s power flared brighter. Erawan screamed.

The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her.

Life-Giver. World-Maker.

Bit by bit, she burned him up. Starting at his limbs, working inward.

Yrene glows bright as the far-off dawn, which reminded me of Elain glowing like the sun at dawn when her hair is unbound. This very subtle detail is one of many that might make Elain’s journey unique—her gifts seem to be deeply connected, or bound if you will, to both the land and Wyrd. I believe her journey might mirror the unbinding of the land and Wyrd: her powers fully blooming as the land does around her, and a bond she does not want unmade by the end. She is bound to Lucien against her will, just as he is to her, so will she unbind them by unraveling Urd’s unnatural chains? Will she feel a bond that is true in spirit at her core, or will she need to make her own with Azriel? A maker of her own fate. There are so many interesting possibilities that could be explored in their book.

And like the near-twin to her sister, Elain might possess pure, undiluted life like Yrene, allowing her to tear out void like the invasive presence it is.

And when her magic began to slow, Yrene held out a hand.

She didn’t feel the sting of her palm cutting open. Barely felt the pressure of the callused hand that linked with hers.

But when Dorian Havilliard’s raw magic barreled into her, Yrene gasped.

Gasped and turned into starlight, into warmth and strength and joy.

[…]

Yrene’s power was life itself. Pure, undiluted life. It nearly brought Dorian to his knees as it met with his own. As he handed over his power to her, willingly and gladly, Erawan prostrate before them. Impaled.

The demon king screamed.

[…]

Erawan could do nothing. Nothing against that raw magic, joining with Yrene’s, weaving into that world-making power.

The entire city, the plain, became blindingly bright. So bright that Elide and Lysandra shielded their eyes. Even Dorian shut his.

But Yrene saw it then. What lay at Erawan’s core.

The twisted, hateful creature inside. Old and seething, pale as death. Pale, from an eternity in darkness so complete it had never seen sunlight.

Had never seen her light, which now scalded his moon-white, ancient flesh.

Erawan writhed, contorting on the ground of whatever this place was inside him.

Pathetic, Yrene simply said.

[…]

And it was with the image of her mother still shining before him, showing him that mistake he’d never known he made, that Yrene clenched her fingers into a fist.

Erawan screamed.

Yrene’s fingers clenched tighter, and distantly, she felt her physical hand doing the same. Felt the sting of her nails cutting into her palms.

She did not listen to Erawan’s pleas. His threats.

She only tightened her fist. More and more.

Until he was nothing but a dark flame within it.

Until she squeezed her fist, one final time, and that dark flame snuffed out.

Yrene had the feeling of falling, of tumbling back into herself. And she was indeed falling, rocking back into Lysandra’s furry body, her hand slipping from Dorian’s. (koa)

When she is done, Yrene falls, tumbles back into herself like someone with the gift of sight. Elain’s sight is probably more extensive, but I think it’ll look very similar—part of her there, part of her deep within Wyrd (the Cauldron). And even with the vision and gifts Urd gave her, Elain will probably need help. Will she combine her raw magic with Azriel, like Yrene does with Dorian? Or her sisters like @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, and I (as well as others I’m sure) have discussed? Or even in some kind of dawn ritual where priestesses, like healers, create a living chain of blooming life to ground and amplify her magic? I don’t know what I would love more, honestly.

Once the magic of the Asteri is unmade and Wyrd is unbound, I hope there is a scene where we finally see the goddess through Elain’s eyes, and Elain—like the calm and loving and resilient stag in this Fantasia sequence—reaches out her hand, lifts her up and out of the place that once chained her to the Void, and lets her power, pure and natural, flow through her before it rushes into the soul of the land, which can now rejoice with her freely.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Unauthorized Change in Priority

I’m still on a bit of a DCxDP kick right now and I have another idea. It seems to be a fairly common trope that when DP exists and the Justice league seems to be ignorant of a small town in Illinois that was actually pulled into another dimension for several days, that the blame is laid either on the GIW or John Contantine. When John Constantine is blamed, we tend toward him going ‘we don’t fuck with the Infinite Realms’ and nopes out on behalf of the entire JL, leaving a 14 year old to handle things on his own. 

Let's take a slight inversion of that. Also I should probably mention, you might want to disregard any canon that contradicts this. 

It is important to note going in that in this one Amity Park sits on so many intersections of ley lines that it is impossible to tell which layline is connecting to which.  A bit like a natural lake bed that is fed by a bunch of little rivers.  This thins the divider between this dimension and the infinite realms, substantially.  So even before the portal opening the line between Amity Park and the Infinite Realms is tissue paper thin. 

Constantine before he joins the JDL, at some point well before Danny is even born, finds himself in Amity Park. He realizes immediately how thin the veil is in this location and, not wanting to sneeze and accidentally drop this town into a hell dimension, backs away slowly. The veil is so thin that Constantine does not even dare putting any kind of monitoring spell but notes the town (reasoning that anything that happens here will be world ending).  When he joins JLD (still well before the portal opens) he creates the Amity Park file and puts two very important notations. 

First, anything Amity Park can only be handled by the JLD, preferably Zatanna or Contantine. He has a good reason for this; as most superheroes have just enough contact with death or magic to be reactive to the Infinite Realms, no knowledge of what to avoid, and next to no willingness to leave well enough alone. If there was an issue that by some miracle had not punctured the veil between realities, it is almost guaranteed that the wrong move will make things exponentially worse not better. 

Second, he put a notation that any communication about, for, or from Amity Park is priority number 1, used for potentially cataclysmic, all hands on deck immediately communications. In short any call from Amity Park should have been immediately routed to Constantine. 

This is what should have happened. However, the first technician to receive a call from Amity Park (during Lunch Lady’s attack) decided that this must have been a miscoding, or a data entry error, as ghosts do not exist. Not only does he mark the caller as a prank, but he also used his own access to change the second notation for Amity Park, marking any call from that location or about that location as a prank, to be ignored. 

Fast forward ten years, until now nobody has caught on to what happened. Constantine had very realistic fears about tearing a hole into the infinite realms and thus never checked in on Amity Park, since no notifications came in. 

We start with Batman, in the watchtower, unintentionally running into Constantine giving a royal, and deeply pissed off, dressing down to the technician in question, though the topic is not obvious. 

Upon seeing Batman, Constantine goes “Good, you were next on my list. We need a full League meeting, ASAP, and all of your brood needs to attend, particularly Red Hood.”

Batman just growls out a ‘What?’

Constantine sighed “Look, I know you don’t like magic. I’ve tried to respect that, no matter how much death magic you and your brood radiate. But we have a fuck up with potentially dimension ending consequences and your undead boy might be the best shot at keeping us all from a war we can’t win.”

 Batman growls to cover his own confusion.

Contantine rolled his eyes, “I will tell you everything I know, at the meeting. Going over this more than once increases the chance that someone will fly off the handle and fuck us all worse” he then turned to head toward one of the conference rooms, towing the technician. When the technician protested Constantine snapped out “Mid Case Scenario is that we have to sacrifice you to the Infinite Realms for your fuck up, you stay with me until I know how bad it is”

No more than a half hour later the Justice League has gathered, including a prickly and confused Red Hood (only there because someone-Read Red Robin- thought to use the ‘apparently this is a dimension ending trouble and we’re the assholes that live here’ argument). 

Constantine starts with three word ‘Amity Park, Illinois’

Every member of Justice League Dark goes pale.

Constantine continues:

We have a fuck up of massive preportions. Possibly dimension ending, all caused by the idiot to my right.  For those of you not in the know there is a dimension that lightly overlaps ours, called the Infinite Realms. It simultaneously encompasses all afterlives that ever were or will be and serves as the connective tissue between the afterlives and the mortal realm.  Natural rips form, usually along the ley lines, to allow the spirits of the dead to pass on from our world to theirs and vice versa. It can also be called the Ghost Zone. This realm is made up of ectoplasm, what ghosts are made of.  Semi poisonous to mortals, also technically radioactive. Mortals who have touched death in certain ways begin to resonate with the Infinite Realms, mostly by dying and being brought back by unnatural means.  

With me so far, Good.

A few decades ago I came across a city in Illinois where the veil between here and the Infinite Realms is so thin it is practically see through.  Since I figured accidentally punching a hole in reality and dropping a midwestern city into some fucked up shit was not a good idea, I left but kept an eye for the name to pop up anywhere. When I joined the Dark, I put a priority alert in place. ‘Cause anything that happened in Amity Park  or  about Amity Park meant the damn Infinite Realms and we needed to be on top of that shit. Except the dipshit to my right, whose name privileges have been revoked,  decided that the careful label of ‘Priority 1’ must have been a mistake, and changed the label to mark everything from Amity Park as a prank. 10 years ago.

Yesterday a different alert regarding the Infinite Realms was tripped and guess what I found…Over 200,000 calls from Amity Park in the last decade. All urgent cries for help. All ignored. This was the last message.

 Everyone in the league looked deeply uncomfortable with the idea that they had been ignoring cries for help, the unnamed technician cringing next to Constantine. It got worse when Constantine played the last message. The voice sounded male and it sounded young (They do not know if, but it was Tucker Foley aged 24 years old), what’s worse was that there was audible pain in the voice overlaid with a helplessness. 

I…I don’t even know why I am trying this. It’s clear no one is listening. That no one will listen. But…But Danny would want us to try. Would want us to give one last warning, he loves humanity so much.  They took Danny. They took him two weeks ago and they are cutting him open. We can feel it, Danny’s trying to keep it from us, to keep us from feeling it but our bond is too deep.  We can’t get to where Danny is being held and he’s so tired; he won’t last much longer. <The voice stops and there are several minutes of pained panting> Let this serve as a warning, should the Ghost King be Ended at the hands of the US Government, the Infinite Realms will ride to war. Amity Park stands with our Ghostly brethren.  Long Rule King Phantom. 

The recording cut out and a horrific silence echoed. Before anyone can rush off to try and rescue this ‘Danny’ Constantine gets to them to sit down so that this could be done right (and avoid rushing in to make things worse). He points out that the Ghost King has not yet been Ended, gesturing at the Bats. All of the bats have brushed with death in the right ways (also Gotham was Very very cursed, which also thinned the veil. Though it was not up to Amity Park Levels Gothamites tend toward liminal as well) to be at least loosely affiliated with the Infinite Realms (liminal, though that is not the term he used), with Black Bat, the current Robin, Batman himself, and Red Hood being the ones that pinged as ‘Actual Realm Denizens’ (I know most of the league has died, or died adjacent, but we’ll go with they register as slightly liminal but much less than the Bats, since Gothams curses and the use of the Lazarus pits count as additional exposure).  

Had War broken out, the loyalty of those four in particular would be bound to the Ghost King. Constantine was also sure that between their affiliation with the Infinite Realms and the loyalty of those four, the rest of the bats would likely switch sides (Of the Bats, only Red Robin looked completely at ease with this prediction-Tim had long ago accepted that his loyalty was not tied to Justice but to Family).  Thus the bats serve as an early warning system, should they attack then it was too late. 

In addition to being the canary in the coal mine, Constantine hopes that Red Hood, having died and come back, may be able to serve as an ambassador of sorts, that having him and the other bats with them when they go to Amity Park will give them the time to talk with the residents and de escalate things. 

The meeting continues as the League identifies the goals for this

Short Term: Rescue the ‘Danny’, anyone else in immediate danger, and make contact with the people in Amity Park

Mid Term Goals: Start making amends for ignoring their calls for help, ensure the residents are safe or could be made safe, figure out why they think what Danny is enduring has anything to do with the US government

Long Term: Dismantle whatever organization is the ‘They’ the caller mentioned

Of the Bats, Oracle and Black Bat would stay on the WatchTower to play canary. At the same time they would start trying to figure out the They mentioned in the call (by going through the other calls) and any research that needs to be done. 

A Single jet, with the Batfam, John Contantine, and as many of the Justice League as can fit (with the Supers flying outside it) is dispatched to go to Amity Park; there is concern that more than that would spook the residents or seem like an invading party. They are able to land the Jet in the middle of Amity Park’s town square and can already see the devastation. It already looks like a war zone, with destroyed buildings and pitted roads. The sky flickers between a normal looking sky and a sickly green that they do not realize it from the Infinite Realms. 

A crowd has gathered by the time the amp on the jet lowers. It is a mixture of humans and ghosts, none looking pleased to see the Justice League. The crowd is led by Fright Night, Mr. Lancer, and Tucker Foley (who looks to be in some kind of pain).

This is an Eternal Trio (Tucker/Sam/Danny) kind of idea with Tucker and Sam having a strong psychic bond with Danny, in part due to being there when he died and the portal opened. Because of that all the ghosts see Sam and Tucker as substitute Ghost King/Royalty with Danny being in the GIW’s hands. It takes some back and forth (and Fright Knight explicitly asking Red Hood if the Justice League are to be trusted) but Tucker is willing to answer their questions if it means that they get Danny back. 

It turns out that the GIW had the town basically under siege and had for the last year (by that point barely anyone was trying to reach out to the Justice League). Two weeks ago the GIW managed to capture Danny (and had since managed to capture a number of ghosts and liminal humans for experiments). They had some kind of shield up that meant that no one who was past a certain point of Liminal, as all of Amity Park were, were able to get anywhere near it.  Sam and Tucker’s bond with Danny meant that they knew he was alive and could feel what Danny was going through.  The Bats were too liminal to get close to the GIW facility/fortress. They would go with Tucker to Fenton Works to begin interviewing people about what was going on (finding out that the GIW was apparently a branch of the US government was disquieting). John Constantine (still dragging the techncian) was going with them, someone mentioned the stable portal to the Infinite Realms and his ulcer grew by 3 sizes. The rest of the Justice League would be storming the GIW facility to rescue anyone imprisoned. 

In Fenton Works they encounter Maddie and Jack, radiating a manic crazy kind of energy as they furiously build weapon after weapon for the ghosts/AP residents to use against the GIW and/or the rest of humanity. Vlad Masters was with them, trying to keep them relatively stable.  The Fenton Parents only found out that Phantom was Danny and that Danny had died a few days before Danny had been captured, though they had mellowed about Ghosts over the years (they were still shooting at Phantom, but it was more of an afterthought to making sure the GIW didn’t harm any innocents- Closer to frenemies than enemies).  To be fair Danny had not been trying to keep it a secret from them for years, but after a certain point it felt like bringing up the Danny Phantom/Danny Fenton thing was a little awkward. The Fenton Parents are practically the only people in town who had not made the connection.

The knowledge that they have been hunting their baby, that they have been hurting their baby, that their inventions killed their son cracked their psyche’s a little. Before they could fully recover from that blow, the GIW took Danny and was hurting him. The GIW was using the Fentons Research as a basis for everything they were doing.  That shattered their minds more than a little. Their behavior from that point on tended to remind older Ghosts of ghosts who were on the verge of having a cracked core from either an impossible Obsession, or conflicting Obsessions. Everyone is treating them very gently and lets them keep building really weird weapons to keep them from literally beating themselves bloody on the GIW shielding.  Red Hood, as the most Ghost Adjacent (Everyone in Amity Park have been exposed to enough ectoplasm to sense the levels of ectoplasm in other, to a certain extent), and Red Robin, as the most engineering inclined, are immediately co opted to help with weapons development as the Fentons babble about taking out the GIW in distressingly specific terms, uncontrollable manic energy, and frighteningly blank eyes (Even Red Hood is treating them with the ‘these people are a primed grenade attached to a nuclear bomb’ kind of kid gloves).

Jazz makes a point to thank Batman for Red Hood and Red Robin indulging her parents.  She is exhausted and at the end of her endurance in trying to keep everything together. She sits with Sam, Tucker, and a number of assorted ghosts to answer Batman’s questions about what the fuck has been going on in the past decade. 

Back at the watchtower, Oracle has written a program to transcribe the messages from the Amity Park calls and do an analysis on the word use. From the transcripts she has been able to find a couple of important keywords: Anti Ecto Acts, Ghost Investigation Ward, the names of several ghosts, Pariah Dark, Danny Phantom. She and Black Bat begin researching. These are not fun topics to research. 

The Lantern Corps are taking the research and compiling a report to take to the OA.  Absolutely 0% of the people are happy with what they are discovering. While not all of it could have been prevented by the Justice League knowing about the portal opening from the beginning (The Anti Ecto Acts had been buried in a sub clause of a sub clause of on page 1,361 of 2,500 of a Wheat Subsidy Bill), there was significant preventable damage. 

At the GIW headquarters residents of Amity Park, both ghost and human, stood outside the shield line as members of the Justice League, particularly members of the Super family (which has the benefit of having Clark Kent the reporter be a first hand witness if need be) pass through the Shield with only the faintest of resistance. The first priority is the Shield as no one can escape until it comes down.  Superboy, the older, finds the experiment cells first.  It is horrifying beyond anything he had ever experienced.  

Several of the cells contained ghosts that not only had been living when they were brought in, but also were trapped in a cell with their own rotting corpse (Including both Paulina and Dash). Every possible human/Ghost experimentation and horror was present.   They find Danny vivisected and pinned open with several of his organs and limbs decorating the room, while he was painfully regrowing them.  

Later the vague descriptions of what was found in the GIW headquarters, reported by Clark Kent and Lois Lane, would induce actual supervillains to come out of the woodwork to help the Justice League in taking down the Acts, the GIW, and their supporters. Ra’s Al Ghul reaches out to Red Robin (not just because Ra’s also qualifies as liminal under the acts-though he does take that personally), offering support and a cadre of assassins. Lex Luthor throws his political muscle behind repealing the Acts.  Two Face is in complete agreement with himself for the first time in ages when he declares it open season on anyone in a GIW uniform. 

In the aftermath it is found that even the living residents of Amity Park are all too Liminal to live in most cities. Gotham remains one of the few cities that can support them.  A robust exchange program springs up between both cities; the residents of either tend to consider Amity Park as a neighborhood of Gotham. Gotham University is the first school to offer admissions to one of the ghostly residents, codifying how Ghostly enrollment should be counted. They are also the first to offer both a Psychological and Sociological Master degree program with a focus on Ecto beings.

Constantine finds that it is no longer possible to separate Amity Park from where it had partially sunk into the Infinite Realms. This has led to some strange warping of the space time continuum that gives him a headache, but by all accounts is as stable as it can be.  This means that while everyone agrees that Amity Park is in Illinois, and geography does seem to support that, it is possible to turn down certain streets at certain times and be in Gotham and vice versa. 

Once Danny had recovered some from his experience a bit, he does pass judgment on that technician.  Once the tech dies, he would be imprisoned in Walkers prison  for a period equal to the suffering and recovery time of all of the victims affected by his choice. 

[demensrage]

"i didn't believe in love at first sight until i saw you" ⚊ kaeya x fem!reader

summary: serving mondstadt had always been one of his priorities, love was never one of them. watching hopeless romantics talk about their other halves seemed absurd to him, that is, until he met you.

note: english is not my first lenguage, sorry for the grammatical mistakes ꩜.ᐟ

word count: 2k. Enjoy it!

First meeting, both connected by duty.

The day could not have been worse. for him, it is important to take care of Mondstandt, but sometimes he just wants to rest. He doesn’t remember the last time he was able to sleep without someone interrupting his dreams.

He was walking slowly, while his mind was in a place far from the earth, until he felt several objects collide against him, bringing his thoughts back to solid ground.

He quickly turned his eyes to the floor, where he saw a girl desperately picking up books. That was when he first believed in love at first sight. While helping you gather the books, and as you mumbled words he couldn’t understand, his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. He had never felt so nervous around anyone before; you were clearly the exception.

"I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to bump into you. lately, I’ve been very distracted by all the accumulated work," you said. at that moment, your gaze met his—those beautiful blue eyes with a special glow that you couldn't quite decipher.

You were a foreigner, a scholar from Sumeru. you had recently arrived in mondstandt to study the dried leaves of ley lines. You needed to determine if there was any difference between those from your land and those from other territories. Your future graduation depended on it.

He took a quick look at you, a few inches shorter than him, caramel skin and pretty curls as black as the night itself that fell over your shoulders, as well as beautiful brown eyes. He wanted to run his fingers through your locks, maybe play with them a little, follow the shape of each strand of hair just for his own satisfaction.

“No problem, after all, accidents happen. Do you need help with that?” he said, with all the self-control his mind could muster just to be by your side.

Everyone notices it, except you.

Things escalated quickly between the two of you. It was easy for him to be by your side and work to earn your trust. He just had to be himself, protect you, and help you with your thesis.

He spent long nights helping you, even though he wasn’t a specialist in biology. Still, he made attempts to assist with the writing, and though it may not seem like it, he had a skillful writing style—perhaps from helping Jean too. but that was enough to make you happy.

But he no longer asked to be by your side just with the excuse of helping you—not at all. It became a basic need to want to be around you. Physical contact became natural between the two of you, and it was common for him to escalate from walking together to holding your hand.

“We should visit that little restaurant they opened the other week,” he proposed, his fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb making small caresses on your hand. “Sure, if you’re available tonight.”

The indiscreet glances of the people around you confirmed what you preferred to deny, but everyone saw two lovers instead of two friends.

"I was just thinking of inviting you to dinner tonight!" you exclaimed excitedly. and that was fine, for you it was.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone out together, much less to dinner. Although you’ve both been lucky enough to try each other’s cooking, your jobs don’t allow you to spend much time in the kitchen.

For Kaeya, spending time together was enough to brighten his heart. Every morning, he looked forward to seeing you again, and if he had a little free time, he’d make his way to the place he knew he’d always find you, the library.

That night wouldn’t be any different from the others, he thought. But after five long months, something was about to change. When he picked you up, it was hard for him to hide the red that filled his cheeks. He was enchanted by the sight of you; you were beautiful in his eyes, and that was all that mattered.

His eyes sparkled again in the same way they did when you first met. and you smiled at him with love, because that night, while you were getting ready, you felt nervous—wanting to look good for the man who had started to make your heart beat strongly, for the same man with whom you had the pleasure of resting in his arms on stormy nights, or simply because you wanted to be there, held by him.

The first kiss was the most beautiful thing.

It was a rainy day; however, you two had a good time at home. your stomach hurt from laughing so much at kaeya’s jokes, while you tried to finish arranging the living room so you both could enjoy watching something while he prepared the popcorn.

But the rain had other plans for you. in the dark, with only the light of the lightning illuminating the room, you looked outside while eating the snack for the little marathon you had planned at home.

He was curled up against you, both of you sheltered by the soft blanket. His warm body gave you a sense of peace and security, and his hands slowly ran through your hair as you turned your face to look at him.

Your eyes met, and time seemed to stop in that instant. It was just the two of you, and no one else. as always, he gave you those sweet smiles he reserved exclusively for you. One of his free hands moved to your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. It was inevitable not to take his hand and kiss the inside of it.

You smiled at him with the same love he had shown you. The fruits of quality time, support, and growing closeness were enough to unite you both. And as he looked into your eyes, his gaze couldn’t help but linger on your lips.

He wondered if they felt as soft as they looked, if he should kiss you, and express his love in a much more intimate way.

His heart raced as he gently cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs tracing small circles on your cheeks. The closeness of your bodies, the warmth of his touch, and the gentle rhythm of your breaths created a cocoon of intimacy around you both.

With a tender smile, he leaned in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the gentle pressure of his lips against yours before they met in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with love and tenderness, a soft caress that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

The world outside seemed to vanish as you lost yourselves in the kiss, your hearts beating in unison. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, a beautiful moment of connection that felt both exhilarating and comforting. as you pulled away, his eyes held yours with a promise of more moments like this, a silent vow of deepening affection.

He fell first and harder.

Things started to be different between the two of you after that night. Without words, you both knew something had changed, even if neither of you wanted to put a label on it. The relationship became more intimate, closer, as if the days between the two of you now revolved around a connection you couldn't ignore.

He had fallen first, and he had fallen hard. Slowly, your things began to appear in his house. A piece of clothing of yours on his chair, your books on his table, and before you knew it, spending time with him had become the most natural thing in the world. More than just an occasional visit, it was like you were weaving your life into his.

Mornings began with the aroma of the coffee he made, while you settled into his arms, enjoying the warmth of his body. Everything seemed simple, fluid, as if it had always been meant to be that way.

Sometimes you caught him looking at you, with that charming half smile you knew so well. But now his eyes said something else, something you had never seen in them before: a deep affection, a love that didn't need words to be understood.

Even though you never spoke openly about what you shared, you both knew it wasn't just a friendship anymore. What he felt for you went beyond that, and he showed it in every gesture, in every look, in every time his fingers absentmindedly played with a lock of your hair. He had fallen for you, faster and harder than he probably had planned. And even though he didn't say it out loud, he made it evident every day.

As time went by, it became more apparent that he had fallen first, and that in his case, there was no turning back. Every time he looked at you, his gaze was not only filled with affection, but with a deep need to be by your side. The small moments—a brush of hands, a shared laugh, a midnight conversation—were more than that to him; they were confirmation that what he felt was not fleeting.

But what disconcerted him most was how easily you had become his world. Without realizing it, his life revolved around you. It was no longer just about helping with your work or enjoying your company, but about needing you, longing for the days they spent together, and feeling an emptiness when you weren't around. When he slept, he would wake up looking for you by his side, and when you were far away, his mind would be filled with you.

However, he never puts pressure on you. He knew that not everyone falls at the same time or in the same way. You wanted him too, he felt that every time your fingers intertwined with his, or when you sought his embrace after a long day. But while he had completely surrendered to what he felt, he knew that maybe you still needed to take that last step. And he was willing to wait.

You tell him I love you for the first time.

That morning, as you both lay wrapped in each other's arms, the soft breeze slipped through the white curtains and the dawn illuminated the room with a gentle warmth. The world outside seemed to be on pause, as if it were just the two of you, breathing in sync, sharing a comfortable silence filled with meaning. The first rays of sunlight drew golden lines across Kaeya's skin, who rested peacefully beside you, a barely noticeable smile on his lips, as if he were thinking of you even in his dreams.

You, however, could no longer sleep. Your heart was beating faster than usual, and it wasn’t just because of his physical closeness. Something inside you had changed, something you'd felt for a long time but hadn’t found the courage to express until that moment. You watched him as he slept, his lashes lightly brushing his cheekbones, his breathing calm and deep, and you couldn’t help but feel a whirlwind of emotions filling your chest. The certainty of what you felt became so strong that you could no longer keep it inside.

Sliding your fingers gently along his arm, you felt Kaeya stir a little, still with his eyes closed but more aware of your touch. The moment seemed perfect, and even though your throat was dry and your thoughts raced in every direction, you knew there was no turning back. You loved him. You had loved him all along, and he deserved to know. He deserved to hear the words that had been trapped inside you, waiting to come to light.

"Kaeya..." you whispered, your voice barely a murmur, unsure if he was awake. Slowly, his blue eyes opened and looked at you, drowsy yet curious, noticing something different in your expression. "Is everything alright?" he asked in that soft tone, with that tenderness he only showed to you. The brightness in his eyes gave you all the courage you needed.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the warmth in your chest. "I love you," you finally said, the words spilling out with an honesty that made you feel lighter, freed. You realized that no matter how he reacted, you needed to say it, you needed him to know. "I love you, Kaeya. I have for a long time... and I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore."

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Kaeya looked at you, surprised, but with a softness you hadn't seen before in his eyes. His usual smile faded, giving way to something deeper, more genuine. Then, without breaking eye contact, he raised a hand to caress your cheek, his thumb tracing a warm line across your skin.

"I know," he replied softly, as if he too had been waiting for this moment. "I knew before you did." He smiled, resting his forehead against yours. "And I love you too... so much that sometimes I can’t even imagine what my life would be without you."

Silence settled between you again, but this time it wasn’t the previous silence of uncertainty—it was one filled with unspoken promises, with shared feelings that no longer needed words. You moved closer to him, your lips brushing his in a slow kiss, full of affection and mutual love. There, in that room bathed in the light of dawn, the two of you found the peace that only true love could bring.

And as you stayed curled up in his arms, feeling his heartbeat in time with yours, you knew for certain that this wasn’t just a fleeting dream. It was real, it was yours, and there were no more doubts or fears to stop you from moving forward with him.

© 2024 demensrage. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions 10: Every Rule

Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader (Original Female Character)

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Word count: 7401

Summary: Firefly takes some time for clarity and understanding about everything and everyone, including the role she plays in Dave's life and the one he plays in hers.

Warning: This chapter is incredibly PLOT heavy...and while it absolutely 100% includes Dave, is very focused on reader and her feelings for and about him. Angst. Religious symbolism. Angst. Violence. Angst. PiV sex - wrap it up lovahs, riding, mild restraints, creampie. Angst. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own. Please be kind.

A/N: Thanks to all my babes who encourage me to continue writing even though it can be fucking hard and so personal especially when you put your heart and soul into each character. Also, if you are familiar with the Equalizer trilogy then you will know and understand some of this.

@youandmeand5bucks @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @morallyinept @secretelephanttattoo

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @sheepdogchick3 @casa-boiardi @missladym1981 @untamedheart81 @drewharrisonwriter @guelyury

“Lying on top of you is one thing, but getting close to you is another. I feel close to you, one with you, you’re mine whether it is acknowledged or not.”—Henry Miller 

In the morning you awoke with a start, reaching for an alarm clock that didn’t sound, for a body that wasn’t there. Morning light whispered through the paper-thin curtains, shining on the bare stone wall. Working together with the gentle breeze from outside, a slow sense of calm began to hold you. Seabirds and salt air surrounded you as you opened a window—a wooden shutter with three slats crooked, broken, and beautiful, the only barrier to a rectangle shaped hole in the stone.

Slow and easy, sometimes boring—those were your mornings since you had arrived. You stumbled through the first few days like an infant taking its first steps. No electronics, no real connection to the outside world, relying on shuffling through pages of a pocket-sized English to Italian dictionary to navigate your way through the occasional brief conversations you had with the Altamonte locals as you gathered your bearings.  

The constant overthinking presented an obstacle to overcome. By your eighth day there, the simplicity of life wouldn’t allow it. Neighbors shouted morning greetings through open and bright green shutters as you dressed. A t-shirt, white and crisp, a pair of well-loved jeans, and a black leather jacket finished with a pair of white sneakers. A uniform or sorts, you thought, as you descended the stairs from your apartment. A passerby could have been a mirror image of you just by clothing alone. Was this what people meant by “dressing like a local”?

At a nearby café, your ability to blend in was tested as you found your place in a sea of color neutrality, sitting at the lone empty table near the front door. A youthful and friendly server who looked to be no older than 17 approached you, her raven curls atop her head bounced when she stopped. Not a line tempered her smooth, dark olive skin as she flipped open her notepad with a smile. 

“Cosa desidera Lei?” 

“Un caffe per fevore,” you replied, with the young server nodding in acknowledgement at your order. 

From your purse you grabbed a journal of worn, brown leather. Its corners curled upward from opening and closing it frequentlly The pages lay ruffled and beaten with the gift of constant use. Your fingers also grasped a pen lost in the depths of your bag that met you like an old friend that had come to save you in your time of need. The ink flowed from your pen to the paper as you wrote about the salt air, the distant cawing of seagulls skimming the shore, and the mist of calm that seemed to settle over every corner of the town.

You turned your head to look through the clean windows into the cafe to observe the locals—individuals, couples, families. The images of them gleamed like reflections on a stream. In the window, you imagined Dave next to you—a mirage, a specter haunting and present no matter how hard you tried to push it away. In the back of your head, you asked yourself: Do I really want to? 

“Buongiorno!” a voice rich and deep in time and timber reached out to you. 

A newly familiar face greeted you. His hands, like his voice, showed evidence of assuredness through lines of time and wisdom that were beginning to settle on the backs of his hands. The smile lines on his face were set dark and deep into his face, indisputable evidence of living. 

“Buongiorno, Dottore!” you exclaimed, standing up to take his hands and give him a kiss on each cheek. 

“Everyday, at the same time, I see you here,” the rich melody of his voice and the kind smile he gave you managed to whisk away the chill that coursed through your blood, if only for a moment. 

“Well, the calm is a nice…change,” you mused and paused for a moment, contemplating if you really believed your own words.

Enzo settled down in the chair next to you, the smile beneath his mustache was warm and fatherly.  As he sat next to you, the young server returned carrying two small cups of coffee for both you and Enzo. You observed closely as Aminita, as Enzo lovingly called her, greeted him with greater familiarity than you had combined with an even greater respect. He spoke to her with the kindness of a doting grandfather. Bits and pieces of their melodic words met your ears, the depths of your brain manipulating them until you worked out their meaning in English. 

“So, what have you seen since you have been here?” Enzo inquired as he settled into a chair next to you. 

“Oh, it’s only been a few days, but,” you sighed with a dramatic pause, “just having the ocean right here has been more than enough.” 

Enzo smiled back at you and his eyes glimmered with excitement and wonder. It was the kind of gleam that you had only seen among young children and the old. Pressing his hands together he stood up and waved at you in a gesture for you to finish your coffee. You sipped as quickly as you could, your coffee just on the right side of warm---the cozy kind of warmth that wrapped you in an invisible hug on a cold day. 

“Andiamo,” he urged you as you swallowed the last of it. “Come on, I’ll show you the real Altomonte.” 

“Ok, ok!” you replied, conceding to him. 

Uncomfortably, you chugged the last bit of coffee with an audible hiss before you stood up. You took quick steps over the cobblestone streets as you followed Enzo. His gait was quick and determined for a 60-year-old. A smile curled at the corners of your lips as you watched him skip ahead of you with more excitement than a tour guide being paid to show you the village.  

He walked you through one of the many archways of the town, this one longer than others. The path was just wide enough to allow for the regular flow of movement brought to life by the villagers. What greeted you through the arch was more life than you had expected, not dark and dank as you had presumed. Nestled along the stone walls were market vendors selling homemade wears of rosaries, crucifixes made of wood from olive trees, and hand-embroidered scarves delicately adorned with intricate, swirling designs. You could feel your mouth drop open in awe as you caressed your fingers along a deep blue scarf with two white lilies embroidered at each corner. You were certain that the elderly woman who made this was grossly underestimating the time and talent it took her  to fashion such a unique and beautiful item. A small, rectangular piece of paper lay on top of the scarf and written in ballpoint pen was the price of a mere 50 euros. 

“Beautiful, yes?” Enzo remarked with a smile. 

His eyebrows were raised as he looked back at you. Reaching into your purse you pulled out your beige, leather pocketbook to procure a one hundred euro note. It called to you, that foreign feeling that you so rarely experienced of reaching for something that you just knew you had to have. It had only happened once before.

Your hand trembled slightly as you handed the woman the euro note, a sign of the thoughts of Dave that took hold of you. As the woman took it, the wrinkles around her smoothed from her wide-open eyes. The look of shock overcame her as she examined the note. She waved at you, her tone an odd mixture of gratitude and scolding that could come only from a strong Italian woman. 

“Ti prego di prenderlo,” you insisted in as humble a tone as you could. “E magnifica.” 

You watched in earnest as Enzo spoke to the woman, conceding to her and talking her down until she stared back at you with a satisfied glimmer in her eye while handing you the scarf. Immediately, you tied it loosely around your shoulders while following Enzo’s lead ahead of you. As you sauntered through the cobble stoned streets, Enzo pointed out the fish market. The owner, Angelo, waved at you alongside his wife and son as they proudly arranged fresh fish on piles of ice—waiting for villagers to snatch them up for their evening meal.

The sunlight greeted you on the other end of the archway, where ancient stone walls guarded each side and where Enzo stood at the foot of a steep set of stairs. He turned around to you and gestured towards the steps with excitement surging through his fingertips. 

“Have you gone up to visit the church?“

Your gaze followed Enzo’s upward to a church set into the mountains, that stood proud with its pristine ivory in color that was brighter against the lush, green foliage of the mountainside. A hint of premature frustration crept beneath your skin as you mentally took in the slope of the stairs. You were in good shape, you had to be. Yet your legs automatically ached with a phantom pain that you knew would come from traversing the steep climb to the church. 

Enzo gestured for you to come over, picking up one foot after another over narrow and steep stairs. The waves of the Mediterranean crashed over the walls guarding the village. The fresh salt air traveled with the breeze until it began to dance in your hair. 

“Climb these steps every day and you’ll be young the rest of your life,” he teased, “That is my doctor’s order for you.”

Something between a laugh and a gasp escaped you before he gestured for you to catch up. When you finally did, your eyes settled on the weathered rock as the air caressed your hair and your lungs filled with deep, cooling breath that led to a wistful sigh. 

“Come on, old man!” You took the chance to take a break from your jog to rib your dark-haired companion as he fought to catch his breath standing amidst a steep, but beautiful set of stairs.

You rocked your hips back and forth as you kept your feet bouncing from side-to-side in a stationary jog. He looked up at you, gathering his hands at his hips as sweat began to gather at the center of his charcoal-colored t-shirt, clinging to his lean, but broad-shouldered form. Not one speck of amusement found itself on his face as he glared at you. The steadiness of his stare caused you to slow your jog to merely stepping your feet beneath you. When a smile finally slid over the surface of his pouty lips, his eyes bore into you, heavy, dark, and tempting --- the look of the devil you always wanted to know. 

“I’ll be generous,” you recalled him saying, his words dripping like the sweetest nectar from the most forbidden flower, “and give you a head start.” 

“Just like you to assume I need one,” you challenged as you stood above him, placing your hands on your hips. 

He readied himself a few steps below you, a determined glint in his brown eyes that sent a chill scurrying up and down your spine. Simultaneously, it sent a warm, throbbing sensation at your center as he looked you up and down. He doubled down on his threat, setting himself in a starting stance to race up the stairs. You followed suit, turning your back away from him, trying to keep your focus ahead of you. His very presence behind you already threatened to consume you and though he was steps below you, you swore you could feel the heat of his exhales rippling on the back of your neck.

And with no warning, he spoke, “Run.” 

The memory of you leaping up the stairs traveled through your feet as you slowly made your way up the steep stairs leading to the church. It was silly really—the present was just a moving dichotomy of your memory. 

You didn’t dare look behind you. Doing so would have meant certain defeat. An feeling of nervousness mixed with intrigue filled you as you ran, ran, ran as fast as you could. The sense of him gaining on you heightened through every pore. Your feet pounded on the steps and your arms swung tightly with each quick stride. Quick breaths rattled from your lips as you focused your eyes to the top of the majestic stairs. Cockiness lined your lips into a premature victory smile, when you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab at your hips, forcing you to slow down to a rhythm that matched his body. You felt the heat of his warm fingers wrapped around your elbow as he pulled you into a dark, concealed alley. Breathing even harder than when you were running, Dave pressed you against the wall, his hips rolling against yours. 

His face was so close that you could smell the clean, yet intoxicating sweat that collected upon his skin that had been made golden with Sicilian sun. Each breath he drew was quick and in time with yours. A quick gasp escaped you as you felt his warm hand lower to skim the waist of your leggings, his thick fingers. A shiver circulated through your body as he toyed with the elastic band. 

“When are you going to learn, Firefly?” he growled into your ear, his lips brushing at your neck and earlobe. “I’m always going to catch you.”

***

“Bella! Bella!” 

Enzo’s voice sounded through the cloud of your memory. Without even really being cognizant of it, you had made it to the top of the ancient stairs. The breeze blew stronger at this height, whipping your hair across your face. As you brushed your waves back, your eyes beheld how the wind danced on the rich, blue water and how it made ripples that shimmered with the golden sun. 

“You see, all this makes Altamonte,” he gestured to the church, the statues, and the paintings of the woman. 

You stared at the wonder and pride in his eyes. Somehow, you knew he meant more than just this place. If he could, he would just stretch his arms from here to the ocean. From his voice that trembled with pride and from the gleam that shined in his eyes, you knew. Only an act of God could wash it away. 

“Come in child,” he said, as he gestured you over to the door of the church. 

“Oh no, I’m not religious,” you said as your shoulders shrunk from the discomfort of the words. 

You didn’t need proselytizing. 

“You think she cares?” Enzo asked, already halfway through the threshold of the church. “But you choose.”

Humoring him, you stepped inside. An unexpected shiver oscillated, tapped, and pricked over your body. Goosebumps arose beneath your sweater. The cold that lived in the walls easily could have trapped you, threatening to take away whatever life you felt beneath your skin. Instead, it invigorated you as they made union with the warm colors of the sun that painted the walls of church like they were her own, personal canvas. You peeked through the windows that let that light in. Each had a perfect view of the village. The beauty had you holding your breath as you marveled at how the stone buildings gathered together and overlooked the bluest water you’d ever seen. 

When you finally let yourself breathe again, you found a seat next to Enzo. He knelt in reverence, his eyes closed and hands clasped together. The flicker of several candles set the room aglow, his flame burning brightly among the many. 

You, on the other hand, sat with quiet patience. It was more like a museum to you. Your eyes settled over the statues and paintings that adorned the church. So much adoration for a woman filled in a church that was ostensibly governed by men. 

Maybe they had it wrong, you thought. Maybe the church was meant to be built upon the shoulders of a matriarch who chose her path of raising a leader, instead of a girl who was bestowed the gift of raising a savior. The way these thoughts meandered through your mind was nearly enough to make you laugh. Sometimes you shouldn’t be left to your own thoughts. 

Enzo settled back into pew in the empty space next to you. A deep sigh escaped him as he turned his head to you. His eyes softened in concern. A slight discomfort pressed onto your shoulders as you navigated your response to the kindness. 

“People always come and rest here, some pray, some meditate until they find an answer,” Enzo said, his voice imbued with the notes of great wisdom. “Even me.” 

You nodded in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue. 

“And you, too, correct?” He asked. 

He didn’t even entertain you with the space or time to answer, not that you had one to give him. Not one that was truthful by any means. Instead, you nodded and waited for whatever wisdom he was ready to give you.  

“I don’t judge,” he stated with a look so deep with thought and an undercurrent of pain that you knew his words were true, “Nothing good comes from it.” 

He sighed again. The weight of whatever memory he was holding was heavy on his shoulders. The tired lines around his eyes seemed to grow in real time, a remnant of the pain that remained.            

“I’m not trying to…ehm…intrude in your personal business,” he paused to find the words, “but are you really here for rest, to find peace, as you say? Or…are you running from something?” 

And there it was: the truth. It had never left. In that moment you could have felt anger, maybe something bordering on hatred for someone cornering the truth out of you. But you didn’t, not this time. You met the doctor’s gaze with the same hesitancy of a child who was hiding something from a parent. Without words, he knew the answer but bore no judgment against you. Instead, he patted you reassuringly on the hand as you took in the warmth of the flickering flames at the altar. 

The sky was a bolder blue against the midday sun as you took your sojourn back to the main square. It seemed impossible that you’d spent as much time in the church as you had. Enzo held onto your arm lightly as you climbed down the steep stairs. A steady stream of pedestrians began to fill the cobblestone streets as you ambled through corridors from which you came. As you walked through the town, the warm and smiling faces of the locals continued to greet you even as Enzo departed from you to continue with his day. 

The remainder of your day moved in an ethereal mixture of fast and slow. From the time you made it back into town you were able to stroll along the seashore, allowing yourself to bathe in the wind as you dug your toes in the sand to buying bread from the local bakery and enjoying it with a cup of tea you watched the sky melt into shades of coral, purple, and then blue as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. 

As a deeper blue settled in the sky, the evening sounds of Altamonte whispered in a different way than the sounds of the morning. The vibrations were buzzed with an energy that was somehow  enlivening but calming at the same time. It should have called you to join everyone. Instead, you let the sounds energize through the open window of your apartment. And you waited as the locals left the restaurants, drunkenly and lovingly alive. The whispers of the night called you as they always had, as they always would. While the citizens of Altamonte were beginning to turn in for the night, you dressed yourself and immersed yourself in the comfort of the late night. 

You approached a restaurant a few blocks from your apartment. A low, heavy feeling struck you in your stomach. Something pulled at your shoulders, tight and aggressive until it pressed and pulled at the skin of your throat. The invisible intensity threatened you with an unsettling and ominous aggression. You tensed into defensive mode as you moved closer and closer to the scene. Loud clatters of silverware and the dragging of chairs against the cobblestone streets set you into a stance that you only ever needed when a job with Dave and the team called for it. 

You dashed with light steps across the cobblestone to gain a better vantage point of the situation. Despite yourself, you heard Dave’s voice in your head as though he was walking you through a training exercise. 

“Your brain is your best asset. Read, know, and breathe the situation and you have the upper hand.” 

You slinked closer as your eyes focused on the situation before you. The threat: two men. His frame was wiry. He couldn’t have been more than 5’9” you surmised. His dark, wavy hair was slicked back, and the ends curled just past his ears. What he lacked in stature he made up for with menace. His stare was wide and manic as he loitered among the tables strutting forward towards a beautiful, young waitress who’d been cleaning the tables outside. The thin man’s counterpart was noticeably taller and more physically imposing. He stood with an unwavering posture, his wide shoulders. He had a closely cropped haircut, and a brow that dipped down into a deep frown that seemed permanently affixed to his face. 

Fear darkened the face of a young woman’s face as the thin man continued to advance on her, trapping her among tables and  into a corner. The owner, her father, stood in the doorway, his feet ready to stomp forward and rescue his daughter. A few strands of her hair fell over her face as she gestured to him to stay inside the restaurant. Two heavy and threatening hands belonging to the burly crony pushed her father back impeding any heroic action he might attempt. The thumping of your heartbeat was fast and loud in the silence of the night, fast enough and loud enough for you to take a deep breath with the hopes of calming it.

“Collateral damage is always messy and always a liability. Blend in: the less remarkable you are, the less of a target you become.”

With Dave’s instruction resonating in your head, you closed in on the restaurant picking up your pace to a light jog. The thin goon continued to advance upon the young woman as her father struggled against the tall man’s hold, keeping their attention from you. It was as though panic traversed through her body the closer you came. The fear that seemed to hide behind her eyes thumped toward you, pumping you with adrenaline and readiness. He held her hostage with a lascivious scowl as he pushed a strand of hair from her face. His hands grabbed the back of her neck, each finger white with violence as he dragged her forward, her skin already red with pain beneath his vice grip. Both men, so arrogant against the struggle of their captives, paid you no attention. 

“Let them underestimate you, then you can always find a way to get the upper hand.” 

All at once a scream from the waitress, yells, and grunts from her father as he struggled, rose in the air as you lunged towards the thin man forcing his grip from the young woman. Adrenaline pumped through every one of your veins as you pulled his thumb backwards and shoved him back with concentrated strength as you simultaneously pulled the gun that he so arrogantly placed in the waistline of his pants. Losing his footing, he stumbled backwards to the ground. You stood protectively in front of the girl as his brutish sidekick attempted to lunge toward you. 

The man raised his eyebrows for a moment and lifted the corner of his lips into a disgusting smirk. He was big and monstrous. You analyzed how each movement was stifled by how grotesquely bulbous his muscles were. Your foot was already hooked to the leg of one of the metal chairs closest to you. In the second he lunged in your directions, you lifted and ejected the chair at his solar plexus. With an additional, forceful stomp of your foot to his chest that knocked him to the ground. 

In the time it had taken you to knock them to the ground, the waitress and her father had escaped inside, and the sound of a police horn approached quickly. You looked down on the two men and brushed a few wayward strands of hair from your face. Adrenaline rushed from your veins to the tips of your fingers. 

The two men stood up, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles of their expensive Italian suits. The thin man glared at you with his hand placed protectively at his chest. It burned still from the pain you inflicted upon him. 

“I think that’s your signal to leave,” you stated with a voice as steadfast as your stance. You kept your hands tightly on his firearm.

With one more snarl, the men disappeared into the night. The motor of their car rumbled off, growing quieter the further they drove into the night. It was silent and more of Dave’s words surrounded you. 

“Never call attention to yourself, but if you have no choice, you need a plan to leave fast.”

The young waitress and her family looked at you, their eyes gleaming with grateful tears. The only thing you felt you could give was a nod. Receiving gratitude, handshakes, and hugs weren’t anything you were prepared or willing to receive. You just weren’t built for it. 

You rushed away using shadows and looking over your shoulder anytime you found yourself in the light. When you arrived back at your apartment, you set your already neatly folded clothes inside your suitcase. It was another trick Dave had taught you. 

Cellphone. Passport. Wallet. Keys. 

With all of them accounted for, it was time to go. You stared at the gun that you had taken from the thin man. You tried to sift through your options of discarding the weapon, when slow, quiet knocks tapped at your door. In an instant you were pressing your back to the wall, sliding along as you made your way towards the door with the thug’s weapon in your hand. It wasn’t in your itinerary to take care of two gangsters on your vacation. 

One, two, three deep breaths.

The knocks became quicker and more urgent. You listened closely for any noises that would alert you to the kind of weapons they had. Just as you reached to open the door you heard a familiar voice through the door.  

“Child, it’s me: the dottore!” 

You wanted to let out a huge sigh of relief, but your heightened vigilance had settled over your neck and shoulders holding you in a position that disallowed it. 

“Enzo,” you finally called out after much deliberation, “are you alone?”

With immediacy, he replied, “Yes!” 

His voice was as steady and confident as a surgeon who was moments away from performing life-saving surgery. You analyzed it, homing in on its lack of fluctuations, listening for any indication that someone else might be standing next to him waiting for you. You drew one more breath and opened the door. Seeing Enzo standing on the other side alone allowed you to let go of the breath you held in your chest. He rushed past you, closing the door behind him. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

“I heard what happened.” 

“How did you--,” you began to ask. 

“I know everything in this town,” he stated plainly, as he looked you directly in the eyes. “Where is the weapon?” 

You felt your brow immediately furrow at his request. This was the kind of situation Dave urged you not to find yourself in. Trusting people, feeling for people, even giving a little bit of yourself to anyone would be a folly in your line of work. One that would certainly get you killed. 

“No, not happening Enzo,” you insisted as you shook your head. “I cannot get you involved.”

“I think it’s too late for that.” 

You stared back at him, feeling a pressure of disbelief and gratitude as he held his hand towards you with a dish rag that he had pulled from a kitchen drawer. You pressed your lips tightly together and a painful sting of tears began to form at the corners of your eyes. Enzo reached his hand out to you again. 

“Are you a good person or a bad person?” 

An unfamiliar feeling of confusion, guilt, and sadness came over you. One that had you re-evaluating nearly everything. 

You replied to Enzo tearfully, “I don’t know.”

He stepped forward and offered you his fatherly stare. The one you felt was so undeserved. 

“Only a good person would say that.”

It was at that moment, you wondered, maybe, if Dave had it all wrong. 

You looked back at Enzo with a look that you hoped conveyed your gratitude. There were no words that existed that held enough magnitude to describe it. You grabbed your things quickly, looking at him once more before you walked out the door. He gave your arm a reassuring squeeze and you pulled him in for a hug. You held him tight, your hands nearly squeezing to the point where neither of you could breathe, shaking as you let him go. 

“Non dimenticare mai chi sei, cocca,” he said followed by a kiss to your forehead that instantly made you feel like you were truly cared for.

And with one last look, you disappeared into the night. The cool air met you and the sound of ocean waves ascended to your ears. Each smell and sound engulfing you and holding you in what you wished was a long goodbye. The bittersweetness of your tears met the corner of your lips. Yet somehow, each event, each choice, and each movement you made reminded you that all of this was just as it was supposed to be. 

***************************

The last 24 hours blasted by you like a bullet train. Everything around you moved in a blur while your body somehow moved at a pace slower than everything around you. You moved through each moment with an exhausted automaticity: getting off the plane, getting a taxi , and finding your way home. 

With caution still at its peak, you entered your home. You checked every room and every closet two times until you felt certain that no one had followed you from Italy. You held your phone in your hand staring at the black screen, contemplating if you should even turn it back on. With a long sigh you pushed the buttons at the side of your phone, setting it quickly aside on your nightstand before running to the bathroom to avoid any notification like they were a plague. 

You stepped into your spacious shower, jumping a little as cold water met your skin before gradually raining on your body with much needed warmth. You stepped out of the shower, drying off before wrapping yourself with your towel. You shook your hair with your fingers until your wet waves rested at your shoulder. A notification appeared on your phone connected to your security system.

Filling your lungs with a deep and steady breath you walked towards your kitchen to pour yourself a drink of water. Standing in silence, leaning against your kitchen counter, stood Dave. His eyes stayed only on you with his hands crossed over his chest. He was wearing his best poker face: no anger, no fear, no hate…but for a moment you spotted it: an inkling of relief, a hint of regret, a glint of—? No you wouldn’t let yourself welcome the thought.

You brushed past him, pouring yourself some water. You looked up at him, no words leaving either of your lips. The water was cold, refreshing, and awakening on your lips. As you walked past him back to your you could practically feel him seething. Coming at you like heat waves but bouncing off you as you kept your cool. 

Staring back at him from the end of the hallway just outside your bedroom you called to him.

“Are you coming to bed or not?”

You swore you heard a sigh of exasperation escape him as he crept towards you with his hands on his hips — the way he always did when he was particularly frustrated. Satisfied by his inescapable allure towards you, you turned away from him, confident in the knowledge that he would follow you. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” Dave spoke as he perused your hair, your eyes, your face, your skin, “I’m impressed you were able to be off the grid for as long as you did.”

“I don’t think that matters much now,” you declare looking up at him as he moved towards you. “I’m back.”

Dave took his hands to caress your face, his grip against your skin pressed with the perfect amount of firmness. A faint shine of gratitude emanated from his eyes. He would never say it, but you could see it. You could feel it from the touch of his hands and by the warmth emanating from his body—he missed you. 

It was enough. You pulled one hand from your face bringing it down to where your towel wrapped around your body in a tight tuck. With firm guidance you made him pull the towel off your body letting it tumble to the floor. His eyes darkened and he shook his head with a smirk near disbelief as he admired your body. 

“Fuck, you’re fucking beautiful as ever.” He groaned as he grabbed at the front of his pants. 

Nearly a month without him, not one text or phone call…by your own design. Forgetting him wasn’t the answer. Understanding yourself in your entirety always led back to the same conclusion: you were his. 

Not able to wait a moment more, you grabbed him by his dark sweatshirt pulling it over his head and tossing it away. You didn’t think you’d taken a pair of pants off a man faster in your life. His breaths came heavy and fast as you pulled him towards you, admiring his naked body as he did yours. 

And then you kissed him.

After so long without him, the fire that sparked from touching him burned hotter than ever. You pulled his body to yours so tightly that your breasts pressed onto his chest, feeling each desperate breath that rose and fell over him. Somehow your arms found their way around his broad shoulders while he wrapped his around you, his hands grabbing your ass massaging up your back, until his fingers are threading themselves in your hair. 

Your kisses were an exploration of renewal, of remembrance of how each other tasted while also, somehow, feeling brand new. His tongue had never been so needy before. The gruff moans that released from his mouth were so different and more unbidden than you’d remembered. And his cock, his lovely, thick, uncut cock, was so hard against your lower belly. The tip already cried for you with precum. 

With one swift movement you spun around and shoved him to the bed. His eyes widened with devilish excitement as he spread his limbs across the expanse of your bed. His cock stood at attention for you, ready to comply with your every demand. 

You crawled towards him, like a black cat slinking in the dark. The smell of him was so musky, salty, and clean as you lowered your face and then your mouth to the tip of his manhood. Holding the warmth of him again felt like a gift as he throbbed in your hands. The taste was even better as you took in the precum onto your lips and then your tongue, each taste bud lighting you up with desire. 

He moaned, his hand hitting your pillow with a thump as your mouth and tongue continued to worship him. 

“Oh shit, fuck!” He growled as he gripped your sheets. 

Not even close to satisfied you lifted your face from your handiwork, tucking your hair behind your ear. You glided forward over his body, giving him another kiss before straddling him, only letting him feel the outer lips of your wet cunt. He reached his hips upward for you.

“Tsk, ah ah ah,” you crooned, teasing him with another grind of your hips, “not til you beg for it.” 

“Fuck, Firefly, fuck—!” 

You moved your hips again. 

Dave couldn’t stop the moans that came from his beautiful lips. So beautiful, you traced your thumb over them. 

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

You grew wetter with each teasing press of your hips. 

An unintelligible and wanton groan came from him. 

You tugged him by the hair, his eyes staying on yours and his brows angled downward in a combination of anger, frustration, and desire unique to him. 

“Tell me, daddy.”

“Fuck, s—so fucking sexy,” he groaned. “Fuck I’ve missed this, your fucking body, my pussy.”

It was all you needed to hear.

You lifted your hips and braced your hand on his chest before you slowly began to sink over his cock. You bit your lower lip as you felt each thick inch of him enter you until he was so deep you could go no further. Pressing your hands onto his soft belly you began to move. Just that nearly sent him over the edge. 

“Fuck, Firefly, how are you even better than I remember?“ Dave praised, as he gripped your thighs with his hands. 

You rolled your hips slowly against his, adjusting to his thick size in your tight pussy. A shuddering breath left your quivering lips. With each bounce and roll of yourself on his massive member turned your breaths into loud and melodic moans. Not wanting to lose yourself just yet, you pressed your lips tighter together the more rhythmic your pace became. His cock throbbed within you, feeling impossible deeper with each move you made. 

“Ah, my god!” You whined, unable to keep silent as Dave suddenly thrust his hips upwards to match your moves. “God, your cock is so good.”

Dave could only muster a gruff moan before interlacing his fingers between yours. You could feel his breath becoming more erratic with each move of your tight cunt over his cock. His hands began to squeeze yours tighter and tighter as your pussy squeezed him.

With a quick forward movement of your hips, his hard member popped out from inside you. 

“Ahh, fuck!” He moaned as he gritted his teeth in frustration at the loss of your wet center around him. 

You climbed off Dave and reached over to your nightstand, pulling a rope from the drawer. You straddled his waist while fashioning a strong knot around his wrists, tying him to your bed frame. He looked up at you, hazy and hungry to feel his cock sheathed in the tightest walls of your pussy. A smirk unfurled itself on his lips as you rocked yourself along his shaft, anointing him with your nectar. 

“How does it make you feel,” Dave spoke, the sound coming from the deepest part of his throat, “thinking you have some kind of control?” 

The words stopped your gyrations and brought your face an inch from his. You could feel your breath circling his lips, close enough that you could see them quiver. With a strong squeeze of your right hand to his face you licked from his chin to just above his lips before kissing him. Your tongue parted his lips with a firm swipe, leading his tongue into a dance he had no choice but to follow. The way your bed frame rattled as you looked down upon him told you more than any words from him could say. 

“So you’re telling me this,” you squeezed and rubbed his cock with the tightest fist you could make around him, “is the gift I get after being gone for so long?”

You slinked your hips back down, teasing his cock with your opening. With the most sultry intent, you stoked his primal want for you, not settling onto him right away. The way he continued to fight against the taut rope around his wrists sent chills that emanated from your center.  He’d never say it, but you certainly knew everything he fought against confessing.  

Generosity began to sneak over you and you allowed him to fill you as you lowered onto him, inch by throbbing inch. And as though your life, your everything, depended on it, you took him for a ride. Consuming, savoring, and indulging in every delicious, warm, and pulsing inch. You brought him to the edge of ecstasy only to bring him back. Your bodies devolved into a beautiful mess of sweat and desire.

Until it was time. Neither of you could hold back. You clutched the headboard as your hips bounced vigorously on his cock. You looked into his eyes and he into yours until you both came with a hot, violent shaking of your body and an uncontrollable thrust from his hips up to yours. Together you filled the walls of your bedroom with a duet of rapturous groans and sobs of euphoria. 

Still holding him inside you, you graciously removed the bindings from his wrist. With urgency, he circled his hands around your waist until they gave your ass one more squeeze. The warmth of his hands traveled up your back and worked through more of your waves before they pulled you in for a kiss. Simultaneously hot and chilly aftershocks of your orgasm trembled through your body before you lifted yourself off him. 

“Goddamn,” he sighed, his voice cracking as you collapsed on top of him.

Minutes passed like hours as you breathed in time with one another. In the silence, you listened closely to each other's sounds. The unexpected feeling of his hand beginning to your hair startled you. He stopped for a moment surprised by your reaction, slowing the movement of his hand, wrapping his arm around you to caress your shoulder with an embrace. He slowed the racing of your heart with more slow breaths and a barely audible hush from his lips. You could feel the intentional slow rise and fall of his chest against your back, your eyes growing heavy until both of you fell into the arms of a deep sleep. 

Late into the night, you stirred with one arm tucked close to you and the other draped lightly over Dave’s. The hum of your ceiling fan drummed peacefully in your ears as your eyes fluttered lightly looking at his form lying next to you. You almost surrendered yourself back to sleep when a sudden thrashing motion shook you awake. 

You propped yourself up and saw Dave tossing next to you, sweat beading at his forehead. His voice started with quiet mumbles, groans, and bellows that shook with anger and fear. You reached over to him, gently caressing his forehead. 

“Dave…Dave?” You started gently. 

He continued to writhe as his brow furrowed and wrinkled his forehead. 

“S--, no, S-- Sa---,” he called out, still trapped in his nightmare. 

“Dave, it’s me!” You said more firmly wrapping his face with your hands. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

He awoke, startled as he looked at you with wild eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, wetting your mouth with a soft warm touch of his tongue, before turning your back to his chest and wrapping you in his arms. He thread his fingers between yours, kissing your shoulders. He murmured words you were almost certain he was unaware of before drifting back to sleep.  A demand? A request? A plea?

“Stay,” his voice breathed through the silence as he gripped you tighter against his warm body, “just stay.”

[infiniteeight8]

(on anon because this song ref is going to date me horribly, but) the more I read your IronStrange ficlets, the more I'm reminded of the 2000s song "Crazy for this Girl" by Evan and Jaron. I'm not sure if this is meant to be a "look at these lyrics and see if they inspire you" prompt or just a compliment overall of how consistent your characterizations are, but thank you for so many amazing glimpses into their many (many, many, many) relationship moments.

Thanks so much! I have a lot of fun writing these two, and I’m glad my take on them rings true. 😀

Those lyrics really do scream IronStrange, don’t they? And really, I could see it going either way. Maybe it’s a bit more Stephen coded, what with the 14 million futures and him falling for Tony first, but my muse is in the contrary place today (still?), so here’s a bit with Tony as the ‘narrator’. Er, inspired by the song, but it seems I did wander off on a bit of a tangent, so not too closely. lol. 

-

Tony sits on one of the desks in the library and watches, smiling, as Stephen searches through the volumes for the book he needs. “The analogy that compares ley lines and magical concentrations to rivers and lakes is even more apt that I realized,” he says as he flips through a book. “It turns out that they change position over the years. Usually very slowly, but as with water, it’s also possible for abrupt events—the magical equivalent of floods or earthquakes—to carve new channels. Which made me wonder,” he puts the book back on the shelf and goes looking for another one, “could they be moved artificially? After all, we can redirect watercourses.”

“More or less,” Tony puts in, as much to see Stephen’s reaction as because it’s true. “Some rivers are more amenable to redirection than others.” 

Stephen lights up. “An excellent point. I suspect ley lines are similar in that way, too.” His expression goes abruptly thoughtful. “I wonder if the similarities indicate a connection between the water and magic… Where is that map?”

Is this what he’s like when he’s on a research binge, Tony wonders. Almost glowing with energy, passion radiating off every inch of him? It can’t be—his research binges used to drive Pepper and Rhodey nuts. Stephen is just amazing. It almost makes Tony want to learn magic, just so he can dive in there with him.

Stephen makes a triumphant noise and brings the book out to the table next to Tony. There’s already a map spread out there, but now Stephen carefully unfolds a second. He grunts, dissatisfied, when the parchment of the second blocks out the first.

“I could do a holographic overlay, if you want,” Tony suggests.

“Please,” Stephen says, beaming at him.

Tony’s heart leaps. God, but he’s crazy about this man. A quick scan with his glasses and the projector in Tony’s watch flares to life, displaying both maps in an overlay.

“Perfect,” Stephen says absently, already absorbed in studying the correlations between the maps. He doesn’t ask why Tony’s hanging around, playing sounding board and logistical support. At some point, Tony thinks, he’s going to have to come up with an answer other than I was thinking about you, and then I had to see you. 

Stephen turns to go find another map.

But not yet.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

NEW GENSHIN THEORY~ *POTENIAL PAIMON SPOILERS???*

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.

.

So, all this time in Genshin and NO ONE knows what Paimon is. We've encountered creatures, beings, and people of various walks of life and various ages, all along our journey as of 4.1's update. None of them seem to know what she is.

Amber called Paimon a 'mascot'.

Xiangling and many NPCs ask of she's 'some kind of food'.

Albedo asked if Paimon is an 'external organ' of the Traveler's.

Overworld NPCs have called her a 'white-haired talking fairy'. Some quest-locked Fatui NPCs have called her a 'seelie'. But we've encountered older beings who have seen real seelies, and even told us about them, and they never made mention of how this is knowledge Paimon should already know, nor did they say Paimon is a seelie. Meaning, she can't be a seelie. And finally, even elemental beings as old as the dragon sovereigns HAVE NO IDEA WHAT PAIMON IS.

What is she then?

She has a 'demon name' like all the gods(and Fischl) tend to have. Barbatos, Morax, Beelzebul, Baal, Buer, Focalor, Astaroth(Istaroth), Orobas(Orobaxi), Naberius, Marchosias, Decarabia, Amy(Fischl, I know)etc... They come from the Ars Goetia, and if we take that into account, then Paimon's namesake could be a hint of sorts. Focalor was known to drown people on ships and Buer dealt with philosophy and logic and loved using plants. It's not too farfetched of an idea at least.

Paimon is a direct servant to Lucifer, the Morningstar. Paimon is knowledgeable and is often depicted sharing vast knowledge and teaching others. Supposedly, he 'knows all the affairs of the world' and must answer truthfully when asked questions. Paimon's role in Genshin is to be a Guide for the Traveler(who travels the cosmos as a Star), and she is the one who taught them Teyvat's common language. In under 2 months. She's taught them much according to their joint character voice lines.

It seems to be a common theory that the Traveler is actually from Teyvat and is just returning after a VERY long time away. Ashikai, the fandom's best lore enthusiast and theorist, suggested them to be an old user logging into their account after a very LONG TIME AWAY. That would explain how they have no Constellation or alignment prior to touching a Statue of the Seven, but the moment they do, it stutters to life with a heartbeat and suddenly gifts them a Constellation.

Statues of the Seven are connected to the Ley Lines, which are connected to Irminsul, which holds all the knowledge and memories of Teyvat. So, the moment the Traveler 'signed in' the knowledge receptacle of Teyvat recognized them to an extent. We know the sibling is considered to be from Teyvat somehow, so it's likely that the Traveler is also from Teyvat, but their account's data has been lost or wiped.

This theory is pretty solid, and I like the idea a lot. So, I build off of it for this.

The Traveler awakens after losing their sibling to the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles and has no idea what is going on. They don't know what's been happening this entire time, and it's when they meet Paimon that they finally get information. That they finally find a way to even get to information.

So, my idea is that Paimon isn't actually a real being by herself. She's not the Primordial One with stripped memories. She's not the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles in disguise. She isn't a seelie who fell from heaven and forgot her origins. She isn't the remaining Moon Sister who forgot her origins.

I think she's just a manifestation of the Traveler's desperation. The Traveler can wield the Elements of this foreign world they've apparently never been to, and even knew exactly how to do so from the very beginning. Even has a line telling Paimon that they know why and how that is possible, but never explains it for the player. And Paimon just accepts that answer and moves on.

This entire time playing, Paimon's being has come up many times, and we always end up saying/hearing, 'Paimon is Paimon'. As if that's a good enough answer, but between the duo it apparently is. No explanation needed. And we know that the Traveler has A LOT of info they keep to themselves and don't bother sharing. Such as their knowledge of Khaenri'ah and actually being around when it got destroyed. This could just be another thing they keep inside.

I think Albedo was the closest out of all who question Paimon's existence. She isn't exactly an external organ of the Traveler's, but I think she's like... a Tulpa. I think the Traveler manifested Paimon through sheer desperation of not knowing what to do and where to go, and the Ley Lines responded by gathering all the necessary memories and knowledge they could as quickly as possible and gave it a form that the Traveler would instinctively trust. The Traveler is great with kids after all.

Paimon has never said anything about where she came from prior to meeting the Traveler. Even during deeply personal moments. At most, we know she was suddenly drowning and then the Traveler fished her out. But how was she drowning right where the Traveler was fishing, and the Traveler never saw her approach?

We do know that The Withering barely affected Paimon at all, much like the Traveler. When the Traveler gained the ability to manipulate Dendro they got additional abilities, and Paimon somehow also gained the heightened sensitivity to the Dendro Element. Enough for the 168-Day Samsara to finally wear off enough for not just the Traveler, but Paimon as well, to awaken from the cycle and break free of it. Nahida personally notes both of them were given the Blessing of Dendro. Finally, when the Traveler gained the ability to manipulate the Hydro Element, Paimon also gained the ability to breathe/speak underwater and swim infinitely in Fontaine despite how she supposedly cannot swim.

Both the Traveler and Paimon were easily knocked out by that odd pulse thing Dottore used. And it supposedly cannot be used on gods like Nahida, so Paimon and the Traveler aren't gods or beings with experience on how to protect themselves from such an attack. (This does not rule out the Traveler being some other kind of immortal being though.)

This makes it clear that Paimon benefits directly when the Traveler's powers improve/increase/strengthen. She gets a 'special sensitive constitution' simply because the Traveler does. The Traveler touched the Dendro Statue of the Seven, but somehow Paimon also received a Blessing? The same with the Hydro Statue of the Seven?

And many times over the course of the story, the Traveler and Paimon have had entirely silent conversations with each other in completely voice quests. Where they step back and simply stare at each other. Thoughts are written in (parenthesis) in Genshin, and many times have they communicated full sentences this way while others around them talk out loud. Maybe it's just a joke to show how well they know each other that they can have silent conversations with ease, but we simply cannot rule out the possibility that they might be mentally linked in some way. When they want to be.

Let's not forget how Paimon is often the voice of everything. And she is rarely in opposition to what the Traveler wants, believes, or thinks. In fact, Lyney at the end of Fontaine's AQ Act 2 might be the first time in the game where Paimon and the Traveler had drastically different opinions. Paimon wanted to stay and talk with Lyney and Lynette and the Traveler just walked off without looking back because they were angry. And even Paimon was shocked by that response.

It's just so weird how they gave the Traveler such an in-depth character but hide it all in their character voice lines(WITH Paimon btw). What would be the point of keeping the Traveler silent most of the time? Unless there is a reason Paimon HAS to be the voice. Cuz the Traveler is no Self Insert. With how this fandom whines about their reactions to things and responses, no one here is putting themselves in the Traveler's shoes.

So, Paimon is very closely connected to the Traveler, and panics when they separate for too long. She's been traumatized several times now by separation. She needs to speak for the Traveler. She exists to be the Guide for the Traveler. She can't imagine her life being any other way. It feels more like the Ley Lines just responded to the Traveler's intense emotions upon waking up and sent something along to answer those emotions. Like an imaginary friend, but more concrete in existence. And that needed their protection to make up for their loneliness.

Mind you, it's JUST A THEORY.

A GAME THEORY!!!

XD

EDIT, added November 3rd 2023, as of the 4.2 Live Stream: TULPAS EXIST IN GENSHIN!

So, this gives my theory a lot more ground to stand on, just saying! :D

[accio-victuuri]

let’s talk about pickles , bruce lee and possible connections!

if there is anything turtles are good at, it’s knowing how to relate things & pick up on cues. most of them may not be true but it’s fun to read about it anyway and i would like to think that their circle overlap many times because of their connection. 🫶🏼

some references that will be helpful:

if you have no idea about the sauced beef cpn then better start here.

xz’s love for oranges over here as an example 🍊

1. In one of the roadshows, a btf cast mate was talking about yibo and said: Then every time he eats a healthy meal, he will have small pickles with a dip of soy chili and cilantro that he will eat with great relish. Wow. WYB seemingly with his homemade side dish? this surely reminds us of his Sauced Beef during LOF shoot. Who could this be from? Chili? 👀 I’m not removing the possibility that it could be from someone else, like his own mother, but knowing the history with sauced beef — it seems more likely that it’s from his in-law. Also with how the story was told, it seems like WYB is not sharing, he’s eating it on his own and is very happy with it 😂😂😂😂

this also brings up the discussion of lele bring this camping bag where you can store food too. Which we noticed around 11/30/22, so it could be that it stores his food 🥹🥹🥹

In the same video, it was said that WYB can fry/cook beef, chicken breast and broccoli! omg! HAHAHAHA! Our dear yibo has finally become capable in making food for himself. Who is teaching him? Well this aligns to the recent fake rumor, where ZZ was teaching him via video call how to make a dish. I love domestic stories like this and the fact that WYB is learning how to cook! for himself and probably for his ZZ so he can prepare food for him. Their love language has always been food. From 2018 where they always made sure the other is eating well upto now, even if they don’t see each other often — they will find a way.

2. GG was spotted wearing Li-ning’s bruce lee shoes early 2022, around the same time WYB was shooting BTF. and we see that Lei Yu is a fan of Bruce Lee. This may be a long shot but it’s cute to see GG probably wearing cause of Lei Yu, who we knew nothing about at the time. He has so many shoes to choose from and he’s not even promoting this line at the time so it’s interesting.

3. Zhao Ziqi who is a cast mate of WYB @ Born To Fly was seen watching ADLAD! lol. People are saying she has a friend in the play, but we’ve seen this before, cast mates of XZ also watched Hidden Blade. The circle is small. Those who support openly may not be the people we are very familiar with.

( edit : please see replies on where the orange bouquet is from ) apologies for the misunderstanding! but lemme see if i can find that other cpn related to a bouquet.

-END.

[dailycharacteroption]

Ley Line Hacker (Biohacker Alternate Class Feature)

(art by Lukas Marek on Artstation)

Today’s subject is… a weird one to say the least. It’s a biohacker, a character notable for their specialization in the bodily processes of living, undead, and mechanical entities… but also a magitech scientist testing how alterations to local conduits of magic affect reality? Couldn’t this just as easily been a technomancer option?

Ah, but that is the decision that they went with, so here we are.

To go into more detail, these so-called ley-line hackers specialize in analyzing and altering local magical fields in order to not only study the effects but use them to their advantage. The text compares them to a phlebotomist, but I’m not sure the comparison is a necessary one just to “strengthen” the conceptual connection between the class and the premise of this specialization.

Then again, magic is sometimes compared to being a living thing in many settings, so perhaps they are onto something after all, these scientists being doctors of magic itself.

While they get other traditional injections, these biohacker trade in the basic boosters and inhibitors for the ability to create “ley line hacks”, grenade like devices that discharge magitech compounds into the surrounding area to generate various effects. These include entangling terrain, causing space to warp to improve or reduce cover in the area, or even creating a magic haze that inhibits those affected. Additionally, they can choose formulate the hack to enhance a certain energy type in the area, making attacks made with that energy that much more deadly to targets within the area. With a bit of prep, they can tune such a device to affect a larger area too.

A simple option, and one that I still is a bit of a stretch, but if you’re looking for an almost witchwarper-like ability to not only debuff foes or buff allies but also bolster your allies’ favorite damage types, this option may be fun for you. All you really lose is your basic biohacks and the spark of ingenuity ability, making you less of a healer or effect combiner, but you still have access to more advanced biohacks and other abilities to customize your build.

I still don’t think this alternate class option is a bit of a stretch, akin to what a more comedic story would do to justify a scientist working outside their discipline, (jokes about literal rocket surgery abound). Still, if it works for you and the tone of your game, by all means utilize it.

For years, Dr. Phalter, a nihilist, has long rejected the Theory of Everything, instead opting to discover the Theory of Nothing, which posits that reality is born out of ideas shaping the Shadow Plane, rather than it being a dark mirror of reality. While his theory seems to have no basis, he has made great strides in incorporating shadow magic into his technology, perfecting substances that warp reality in a localized area.

An android rebellion has arisen on the mining world of Nakkan. However, with the superior resources of the company, not to mention the foreman’s love of toxins and magic-warping bombs, makes the effort seem doomed unless they get help from someone outside with the skills to take down the leadership.

The party is on the trail of a magadaz, or gambling devil, but the fiend is not making it easy. It seems that they have a favor to call on in every port to impede their pursuit from world to world, but even a creature of malign luck will find it running short, when the party gets to his next debtor first, a scientist researching the lifeblood of magic who unfortunately has a gambling problem.

[stoutduke]

Critical Role: The Bell's Hells and the Gods

Once they get to Ruidus, they'll probably be the only people that can stop Predathos from being freed. The gods have done barely anything for any of them and yet they're being asked to save them. They could just wait until after Predathos is freed to try and kill Ludinus. When they get to Ruidus, it could be the perfect time to ask the gods to make it worth their while to stop him before he frees Predathos. Waiting until after he frees them would probably be the most strategic time to attack because once their free the Reilora and Imogen's mom wouldn't have much of a reason to help him.

FCG already experienced the god he started worshipping telling him to help by giving two reasons that contradict each other. She first told him to help by saying without her guidance he'd end up alone and in the dark and then she turned around and said you should follow you're own path and do what you think is right in order to manipulate him. What makes it more obvious that the Changebringer is mostly just using him is that I think that people have said the gods don't usually talk directly to their followers and yet she's talked to him twice. He doesn't know anything about her and is very new to worshipping and yet she's not only talked to him, she's also given him a magic coin. Almost every interaction he's had with her is out of the ordinary and points to it just being her using him because she knows how connected he and his group is to Imogen's mom and Ludinus. There's also the possibility they know FCG's group is their best shot at stopping Predathos from being freed because there's a good chance that typical divine power will be weakened on Ruidus and his group doesn't really rely on their power like their followers. Also FCG might not be as affected by Predathos' power when they're on Ruidus because his powers come from himself.

There's also the time Pelor sent an angel to stop them from destroying a temple that barely had any followers and the followers it did have took militaristic control of a town and intimidated them with two judicators into giving them money as tribute to a religion they didn't follow. Then they found out the church was trying to take over the region and force their religion on people. It's been said that in times of crisis people show their true colors. I don't completely agree with that, since people can do stupid stuff when they're afraid that they normally wouldn't do, but it can show you a side of them they'd normally hide. So far we've seen Pelor is seemingly ok with his followers intimidating and forcing his religion on people. And the Changebringer is manipulative and seemingly just using FCG.

What's also curious is that we've never heard anything about an angel coming down and protecting any of the temples or people in Whitestone when they were being taken over by the Briarwoods. They had many worshippers there, but it seems like they weren't given any divine help at all. When they fought a high ranking member of his religion and they died he sent an angel to that temple, but it didn't make sense for him to do that if he was trying to protect his followers. The high ranking member of his religion was already dead, so sending an angel there would've only protected a temple that barely had any followers. It seems like the real reason he sent an angel there wasn't to protect the temple or his followers, it was to keep the location under his power because there's a nexus of ley lines there and it could be used against him and his followers. I'll be a bit disappointed if they don't at least try to get the gods to reward them. They have Ashton on their team and he should know that there are deals to be made with people that have everything to lose. One of the best ways to get something from them could be to word it like they seriously need the gods help once they get on ruidus because of how outmatched they are and they probably won't be able to stop him before he releases Predathos.

[merymoonbeam]

Light and Dark

Cc3 spoilers. You have been warned. 🫡

My obsession with this connection started when I saw @silverlinedeyes post about the six-pointed star in hosab and I added how I thought it resembled the TT scene elriel has.

We have the six pointed star in hosab and ithan-Hypaxia explained it like this.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

And we have the Elriel TT scene.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

So as you can see by the same color highlighted parts. It matches quiet well. But we are gonna focus on the green highlighted part now.

As you can see ithan thinks that it resembled a six-pointed star when bryce made the drop with the Heart Gate.

Hypaxia said, “Look at the Gates.” The quartz Gates across the city began to glow. Red, then orange, then gold, then white. Firstlight erupted from them. Lines of it speared out in every direction. The lights flowed down the ley lines between the Gates, connecting them along the main avenues. It formed a perfect, six-pointed star. The lines of light began to spread. Curving around the city walls. Cutting off the demons now aiming for the lands beyond. Light met light met light met light. Until the city was ringed with it. Until every street was glowing. And Bryce was still making the Drop. It was joy and life and death and pain and song and silence.

The important part is here that it was the Heart Gate. The center of the crescent city. Map:

One of seven in this city, all carved from enormous blocks of quartz hewn from the Laconian Mountains to the north, the Old Square Gate was often called the Heart Gate, thanks to its location in the dead center of Lunathion, with the other six Gates located equidistant from it, each one opening onto a road out of the walled city.

So it is the...heart. you know what is described as heart in acotar? RAMIEL.

Ramiel. The sacred mountain. The heart of not only Illyria, but the entirety of the Night Court.

A little elain quote:

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?”

And in my wild hunt post I theorized that Ramiel felt like the gates in a way. Because I think sarah took inspo from the Lia Fail stone from myths. It is one of the four treasures of Tuantha De Danaan. I went into more detail in my wild hunt post I link so Im not gonna add everything here again.

So Lia Fail.

The Lia Fáil was thought to be magical: when the rightful High King of Ireland put his feet on it, the stone was said to roar in joy. The stone is also credited with the power to rejuvenate the king and also to endow him with a long reign.

And we know that ramiel stone heals.

“Who healed you?” Nesta pulled back to survey them. “How are you even here?” “The stone,” Emerie explained, features soft with wonder. “It healed every wound on us the moment it brought us out of the Rite. We arrived here, of all places.”“I think it knew where we were needed most,” Gwyn said quietly, and Nesta smiled.

And we know that with firstlight you can heal. Does the ramiel stone consist firstlight and it works in a gate like way? It literally teleported them? How can it do that?

In hosab we have this:

“Your power came from the Gate—with a shit-ton of firstlight mixed in. So your magic—beyond the light, I mean— needs to be powered up. It relies on firstlight, or any other form of energy it can get. You’re literally a Gate: you can take in power and offer it. But it seems the similarity ends there. The Gates can store power indefinitely, while yours clearly peters out after a while.”

So a gate can take power and offer it and it can store indefinitely. If we take the ramiel as a first light storage of daglan with the ramiel stone it is working like a gate would?? Because in hofas the daglan under prison said they hid many things...under mountains as well.

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

We have another light and dark scene with important sword and dagger. The dagger that was in the elriel scene—TT and Gwydion.

They are white and dark light—Alpha and Omega.(I have a post about this)

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched.

Flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger— The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.

And whats important is that with her power bryce can unite them to open a portal to nowhere.

Polaris’s eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest. And as those blades thrust through skin and bone, the star in Bryce’s own chest flared out to meet them. It collided with the blades, and both sword and knife blazed bright, as if white-hot. The light extended up through Bryce’s hands, her arms, her body, turning her incandescent— Into a star. A sun.

What's important is that as bryce collects Theia's power that was parted into three parts she starts to realize it is taking a touch of darkness...

Bryce rolled her eyes, but for a heartbeat, Hunt wondered if Thanatos was right: Bryce had explained how the prism in the Autumn King’s office had revealed her light to now be laced with darkness, as if it had become the fading light of day, of twilight—

And we go to that scene...

With a prayer to Cthona, she sent twin beams of light arcing around the prisms, shooting straight into them.Twin bursts of that light flared from either prism, gunning for each other. Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other—Bryce stepped into the explosion in the heart of it. Stepped into her power.It lit her up from the inside, lit up her very blood. Her hair drifted above her head, pens and papers and other office detritus flowing upward with it. Such light and darkness—the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light.

And the purple highlighted part...it is exactly the same as the six pointed star.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

And if we go by the elriel scene...

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Can you see the connection?

Also that elemental part in bryce's scene. we learn about that in acosf.

Cassian forced himself to sit perfectly still as Rhys dragged a hand through his black hair. “Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.”

And we know how theia and her line can use the TT and Starsword bc she helped them make them.

Theia extended her hands toward the water, the offered blades. And on phantom wings, sword and dagger soared for her. Summoned to her hands.Starlight flared from Theia as she snatched the sword and knife out of the air, the blades glowing with their own starlight. My mother returned that day with only Pelias and my father’s blades. As she had helped Make them, they answered to the call in her blood. To her very power.

So maybe Azriel and Elain have some kind of elemental magic as well?

Also the stone on top of ramiel...sings.

But when he’d touched the onyx monolith, when he’d felt that ancient force sing into his blood in the heartbeat before it had whisked him back to the safety of Devlon’s camp … It had been worth it. To feel that. With a solemn bow of his head toward Ramiel and the living stone atop it, Cassian caught another swift wind and soared southward.(acofas)

TT and Gwydion also sing.

“Let’s go,” Azriel said, and released her hand. Because the sword and dagger weren’t merely tugging now. They were singing, and all she had to do was reach out for them—

What's more interesting is @icedflames made a post about Fragarach and about the connection between gwydion and tt which came true in cc2 as we learned they were connected.

You have to stand on top of Lia Fail stone with Fragarach.

In Irish mythology, Fragarach (or Freagarthach), known as "The Whisperer", "The Answerer", or "The Retaliator", was the sword of Nuada, the first high king. The sword was forged by the gods and was meant to be wielded only by those who posed above the stone of destiny (the Lia Fail) which roared and the sword whispered in response.

So do we need to take Gwydion and TT to Ramiel? To that Stone? We need Elriel to do it bc all of them are "light and dark"? What will happen if they are all there?

Also dont forget about book of breathings prophecy.

Life and death and rebirth

Sun and moon and dark

Rot and bloom and bones

Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me.

Also Fionn dipped the Gwydion to Cauldron.

Another shift of memory, and Fionn pulled a long blade from the Cauldron, dripping water. A black blade, whose dark metal absorbed any trace of light around it. Bryce’s knees weakened. The Starsword. Two other figures stood there, veiled in the thick snow, but Bryce hardly got a chance to wonder about them before Silene’s narration began anew.

And Cauldron sits upon Ramiel.

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”

So we are going to ramiel with gwydion and tt? 🫡

[afterdarkprincess]

The Devil's In the Details (But You got a Friend in Me)-Part 1

Surprise I'm back :)

This started from a very cute prompt, which I haven't even gotten to the meat of yet, but it sent my brain down so many fun rabbit holes that this little oneshot I had in my mind has grown.

SO- I've gotten what I think is about a third of what this will be written, and I wanted to go ahead and share.

If anyone would like to be tagged in the rest of the parts please let me know, this will also go up on AO3 when it's completed.

Samijey Endgame AU from the Royal Rumble :)

---

Jey Uso is tired and stressed. Even more than usual. The tag titles are heavy on his and Jimmy’s shoulders, with attacks coming from the whole roster and without any back up, the constant barrage is wearing on them both.

Solo hasn’t been around his brothers much, mostly spending one on one time with the Tribal Chief, doing god knows what. Both Roman and Paul keep assuring him that he’s still the Right Hand Man, but it sure doesn’t feel like it.

Jey trusts his gut, and his gut is saying something’s not right with his little brother, but there’s not much he can do about it with Roman involved.

And it’s not like Roman’s there to back them up either. Not so much as one appearance to strike fear into their opponents.

As for their other backup, the Honorary Uce?

--

Sami put his body on the line for their family week in and week out for months, proving his loyalty over and over again. Finally it caught up with him.

Roman put the man on trial just for him to get his knee blown out taking a hit meant for Jey.

The match was over, with Roman victorious again over Kevin Owens, but of course that wasn’t good enough, parading the rest of them out to deal devastating chair shots to the strung up man.

Roman handed a chair to Sami, a final test, but Sami saw what the rest of them didn’t.

The redhead pushed the tribal chief out of the way before grappling with Drew McIntyre, who’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Sami took a brutal fist to the face and was down, Jimmy took his opportunity to go after Drew but suddenly there were more bodies in the ring.

The brawling brutes had joined the fray, seemingly for revenge from the WarGames match.

Jey was distracted with Butch, trying to keep his fingers away from the mangy man and didn’t see Ridge Holland creeping behind him with a fucking bat of all things.

Before he knew it, Sami was pushing him back into the corner, and all he could do was watch as the bat connected with Sami’s knee with a sickening crack.

Jimmy and Solo ran Butch and Ridge back, and Roman took McIntyre out with a spear, but the damage had already been done.

Jey finally got to put a lei on Sami, to welcome him into the family where he belonged. But he had to do it while Sami lay on a stretcher, unable to walk, a smile on his face despite the pain he was clearly in.

It was beyond unfair.

He waited outside of medical with his brothers, anxiously pacing as they checked Sami out. Solo was stone faced as usual, but even Jimmy seemed unsettled.

Finally the verdict came- surgery and at least 6-9 months of rehab. Devastating to a career and similar to the injury that took Jimmy out a few years before. It felt just as gutting as it did then.

He only saw Sami for a brief moment before they transferred him into the ambulance to take him off to the closest hospital qualified to perform the surgery. He looked out of it, eyes bleary and heavy, but Jey grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Thanks, Uce,”

There was more he should have said then. But it would take time to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of his feelings, scrambled and jumbled as they were.

He would find more words, later.

As Jey stood in the ring, mic in hand, the friday after the Royal Rumble. The Bloodline had been given a reprieve for Raw due to the injury to one of their own, but even the tribal chief could only get them so much.

He talked about Sami’s bravery, his loyalty and love for their family. How he’d been tested and passed with flying colors. And ultimately, the price he paid for it.

The news of his injury was already known to the WWE universe, the devil moved fast but twitter was faster. Jey reassured the crowd that Sami Uso was a permanent member of their stable, no question about it, his spot on the island of relevancy assured for his return.

The crowd roared, chants of “Ucey” rang throughout the arena. If there were tears in his eyes that was no one’s business but his own.

He and Jimmy fought a match against the Street Profits after that. Jey ended the match with a Helluva Kick to Montez with thunderous applause.

The ride back to their hotel for the night was quiet and solemn, Jey’s eyes never leaving his phone for long. Sami’s surgery had been successful, but he was still resting up in the hospital in Texas while the rest of them were miles and miles away, and it made him antsy to not be there.

There were unknowns. Sami’s home was ultimately Montreal, and since he was out of action for the foreseeable future, there was no reason for him not to return there for his rehabilitation. And Jey wouldn’t have any explicit reason to go visit more than a handful of times when his schedule would allow.

After all, he hadn’t had much cause to pester Jimmy during his recovery from surgery, leaving the tending to of his whiny ass brother to his saint of a wife.

But Sami would be alone, without any family to speak of.

Surely it was the guilt that was eating at Jey, the knowledge that the bat had been intended for him, that made him feel so uncomfortable at the thought of Sami dealing with this alone.

A resolution comes later, when his cousin graced them with his presence on Raw the following week, seemingly there for a promo for the upcoming Wrestlemania match against the winner of the rumble, the newly returned Cody Rhodes.

Roman gave them their marching order for the evening as per usual, before dismissing Jimmy and Solo to address Jey.

His face was impassive as he spoke, “Sami has been released from the Hospital,”

Jey nodded, trying to keep his face neutral. He had to learn the hard way to keep his true feelings from Roman.

“Wiseman has arranged for a house back home in Florida, where he can recover before rejoining us. As my Right Hand Man, I expect you to keep an eye on things.”

It was a gift, an apology and repayment for his behavior at the trial, and maybe even before that. But of course Roman would not admit that outright.

Relief washed over Jey like a wave, but he just grinned. “Consider it done, Uce.”

He had a few days break after that night, so he would see Sami the next day.

Jey woke at the crack of dawn to catch his flight, filled with nervous energy. He’d received the address for the house from Paul, and had been sent with well wishes from the rest of them.

Solo, who’d looked sheepish as he handed over a stuffed bear with the words “Get Well Soon” emblazoned on a heart in it’s hands.

He grunted, “Gonna miss ‘im”

Jimmy laughed, “Me too, Uce. But we can go down, huh? Can’ let this idiot monopolize Sami’s time!”

The silence, so often filled by Sami’s jokes and rambling, was glaring. These months couldn’t go by quick enough. His family is better together, despite their differences.

—

Jey arrived to the house after a trip to the store, getting everything he might need for himself for a few days and a whole bunch of things for Sami.

He was laden with bags as he knocked on the door, trying to carry way too much as usual.

When there wasn’t an answer right away, Jey felt like a huge idiot. Sami just had knee surgery, how the hell was he gonna get the damn door? He started putting down bags, cussing at himself under his breath and feeling around in his pocket for his keys.

The door opened.

Sami stood there, or rather leaned, since his knee was up on a contraption with wheels.

“Hey man, is all this for me?” The ginger joked.

Jey’s frustration melted away at the sound, and he could feel a smile spread across his face as the rest of the grocery bags fell out of his hands. He enveloped Sami in his arms, letting his fingers cling to the back of Sami’s shirt.

They’ve hugged before, several times now, but this was different; more cautious with no rush of adrenaline to fuel it. Jey hung on for what was probably too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

When he finally let go, Jey tried to laugh it off. “Yeah man, gonna get you all fixed up!” Sami moved to help Jey with the bags, but Jey shooed him off. “Got this’-what you doin’ outta bed anyway, fool?”

Sami laughed, “I got a busted knee, M’not dead.”

“You gonna wish you was dead if you ever pull some stunt like that again, Uce! What was you thinkin’ out there?” Jey put the bags down in the kitchen, passing Sami again to grab the rest of the groceries. There was no real heat in his words, but he needed answers.

The ginger looked sheepish, “Look, Jey- the knee sucks, don’t get me wrong, but I wouldn’t change a thing about what I did at the Rumble.”

Jey looked up from where he knelt, eyes fixated on the other man. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he was trying his best to ignore it.

“Why?”

Sami shook his head, “I saw Holland with that bat- he may have hit my knee, but he was aiming for your head! No way was I letting you take that.”

Jey bristled, “Man Uce, you’ve taken ‘nough hits for me! Know I said you was bulletproof n’all but obviously you ain’t!”

Its an uncomfortable feeling, after the months of giving Sami a hard time about not bleeding for his family, that now he was so upset at Sami throwing himself in harm’s way again. But Jey supposed that came with seeing the man as a brother now. Like Family. Obviously he doesn’t wanna see his family hurt and injured.

Jey had busied himself with putting the items he brought in away, but when he looked up at Sami’s face, it was soft, his expression unreadable.

“Thanks, Jey,” He replied, his mouth curling into a soft smile.

Jey’s damn heart fluttered again, but he played it off.

“Don’ thank me yet, Uce- you ain’t had Chef Uce-ardee’s famous chicken yet! Just you get comfy somewheres’ n’ let me take care of things, right?”

Sami laughed, but carefully set himself down on the couch, turning the tv on.

The sounds of canned laughter filled the small house as Jey got to work prepping the ingredients for dinner. Putting the marinade together for the chicken and setting it up in the fridge to soak in the flavors.

With the prep work done, he started on a light lunch for himself and Sami, nothing show stopping, just some grilled cheeses with some extra protein. (Turkey for Sami and Spam for himself) A staple of his childhood, and an easy meal on the road.

He plated both their sandwiches, and walked back into the living room to be greeted to the sound of Sami’s soft snoring.

Jey knew he probably should just let Sami nap, after all sleep is the best medicine to recover from injuries and stuff, but something in him just wanted a little peek, just to make sure he was okay.

He stuffed half of his own sandwich into his mouth to keep any noises he might make from waking the sleeping man up, but slowly looked over the top of the couch.

Sure enough, Sami lay on his back, stretched out on the couch despite the bulky black brace on his knee. His hands held his phone, clasped together on his stomach as if he put it down for just a moment before nodding off.

His face was relaxed in sleep, his usually expressive face soft and passive, his light eyelashes just barely noticeable against the pale skin of his cheek.

Jey felt an ache in his chest. That brace was there because of him. Sami was here instead of preparing for Smackdown because of him.

Sami might not have any regrets about the Rumble, but Jey sure did. And he would do anything he could to keep Sami safe from harm going forward.

He sat the plate for Sami on the coffee table in front of the couch in case the other man woke up, and pulled himself away to let him sleep.

Jey kept himself busy for the next few hours, getting his bag inside and settled into the second bedroom in the house. Paul had done a decent job picking the place out, it had everything Sami would need, including a small gym in the basement. It wasn’t large, just the two bedrooms and a bathroom with a bath and shower, plus the living room and kitchen.

It was cosy and homey and just right, light streaming in the windows in the hear of the day.

As the sun began to recede in the sky, Sami finally awoke, groaning as he repositioned himself on the rolleraid.

Jey heard him from the kitchen and came in, hands coming up to steady Sami’s shoulders.

“Still not, ugh- used to this damn thing.” Sami grumbled, “M’okay- what time is it?”

“Okay my ass, Uce. S’almost dinner time! Hope you’re hungry.” Jey helped Sami over to the table and adjusted to sit before returning to the kitchen to get the chicken out of the oven.

It wasn’t the same as grilling them obviously, but without a grill here it would do.

He loaded some plates up with the marinated chicken and rice in a big heap, and brought them out to Sami with a big grin on his face.

“Ta-daaaa! Bone appetite!”

Sami laughed at his poor attempt at french, but immediately dug into the plate and groaned.

“Jey-this is good!”

“Damn straight s’good! You got good taste unlike Jimmy.” Jey puffed his chest out with pride, grinning from ear to ear.

He knows his cooking’s good, obviously. But it’s nice to hear it from Sami.

They talk between mouthfuls, Sami catching him up on everything that happened in the hospital during his stay before asking about what happened on the shows he’d missed.

He got a particularly good laugh out of Sami describing how Montez had sold his signature move in their fight the night before.

When they were both done, Jey cleared the plates away, not letting Sami move a muscle. He was here to take care of Sami damn it, he was gonna even their scoreboards.

Jey tidied up the kitchen efficiently before returning to the table, where Sami has laid out some uno cards, clearly set up for a game.

“What we got here, huh?” Jey laughed, sitting down.

Sami shrugged, “Honestly was kinda worried if I sit back down on that couch I’ll fall asleep, and if I can’t beat someone in the ring, might as well beat you at Uno.”

“Oh, them’s fightin’ words, Uce!”

It felt easy to slip into a familiar card game, a typical pastime on the road in their “hurry up and wait” business. Both of their competitive natures coming out, yelling and slapping at each others hands when they both try to lie and cheat to win.

Jey had more fun playing uno with Sami for those hours than he could remember having in a long time. The stress of the business, Roman, all melted away under the soft light in the house and the sound of Sami’s unrestrained laughter.

When finally both of them started yawning and Jey was down to two cards (without cheating this time), Sami caught him off guard by gently covering Jey’s free hand with his own.

“Uce, I just wanted to say thanks. For tonight, for coming here, for the trial, just for being you.” Sami stared into Jey’s eyes, expression earnest. “It means a lot to me, and I just wanted you to know, yeah?”

“Man…” Jey sighed, dropping his gaze to where their hands were joined. “I should be thankin’ you.”

“Jey-“

“Nah- lemme get this out.” Jey swallowed thickly with the emotion that was creeping up. “You done more for my family, for me, than anybody else. You believed in me even when I was actin’ a fool. You don’ gotta thank me for this, I wanna be here for you, Uce. That’s what family do.”

Sami’s smile made Jey’s chest ache. “Family…”

“Yeah, Uce. I know Roman was probably jokin’ back then, but you really Sami Uso now. You stuck with us.”

That earned a laugh, “Can’t say I’m complaining.”

“Damn straight,” Jey grinned. “And you don’t have to prove nothin’ to nobody.”

Sami’s eyes glistened as he nodded. “I like that, ‘Sami Uso’”

“Me too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Sami burst into giggles.

“Guess we really ucey now, huh?” Sami teased.

Jey laughed until he could barely breathe.

—

The next few days passed in much the same way, Jey cooking big meals for them to eat (and storing the rest for Sami to eat later) and fussing over Sami in the house as they binge watched TV or played games.

Before Jey knew it, it was Thursday night, the hour way too late for how early his flight was in the morning, but he didn’t want this bubble of time to end.

“You can come back, you know?” Sami teased as Jey yawned for the 5th time in a half hour. “You should get some rest, you’ve got a fight tomorrow!”

“‘Course m’coming back, Sami- Not tired yet.” It was clearly a lie, but he’d rather give Sami a white lie than face the truth that he just wanted more time here with him.

“Sure Uce, and I’m Brock Lesnar.” Sami laughed, and the sound was music to Jey’s ears. “Seriously though, I can’t exactly carry you to bed like this, you’re gonna have to go to bed.”

Jey felt his face heat up as he thought about Sami carrying him to bed bridal style, laying him down softly in bed before lightly kissing-

“-Uce? Hello- earth to Jey?”

Jey was full on blushing, embarrassed at the thoughts he’d gotten lost in.

He stood quickly, “Yeah, you- uh. You right, uce. Yeah, gonna go to bed now.”

Sami looked at him with a curious expression, but didn’t press the issue. “Finally, I’m gonna hit the hey too. What time are you heading out again?”

Jey stumbled out his flight time and said he’d probably be up and leaving around 6.

“Alright, I’ll be up to send you off.”

“You don’t gotta-“

“I do, Jey. I’ll be up.” Sami’s smile was surely meant to be reassuring but it made his heart beat faster.

“Okay,” Jey backed himself up towards the bedroom door. “Uh- Night, Sami.”

“Goodnight, Jey.” Sami pushed himself up to stand and get on his rolleraid to get back to his room, but Jey turned and shut the door.

6am came sooner than he would have liked, but sure enough as he rolled his suitcase out of the bedroom, Sami was there at the table with a cup of coffee and a smile.

They exchanged a quick hug for goodbyes, Jey struggling not to linger in the other man’s arms for too long. He headed out to his rental car, sparing one last glance at the house that felt entirely too much like home for just spending a few days there, before getting in to head off to the airport.

—

More coming soon!