#but i actually like how it turned out (aside from realizing i only drew a third as many women as i did men and then not using those drawings

[azziesbattybaddie]

Shadows and Snow Angels

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x child OCs

Chapter 2 - My scars won't heal

Normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to get mad it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

Word count: 1.5k

💔 💘

Series warnings: past emotional abuse, past physical abuse, past emotional trauma, non explicit thoughts of suicide, depression, parental doubt, child abandonment, past child abandonment, brief talk of past pregnancy. no details mentioned, mention of non explicit SA, we die like men. Every chapter will be individually tagged.

If you don't like what your reading click off!

Author's note: ok, so I kinda his a manic a episode and now I'm writing the second chapter literally the minute I posted the first. We'll see how long it will take me to finish this one but if y'all are lucky, maybe we'll get 2 chapters in one day!

Author's note 2: lucky streak gone but at least it'll be on time. I'm gonna try to post a new chapter every Friday, but we'll see how it goes, life's kinda crazy rn.

Chapter warnings: brief talk of child abuse, Azzie is a traumatized baby, this chapter is actually more fluff than angst but still, we die like men.

Rhys opened the door, only in his pajamas with his hair sticking up in random places. It must have been a long night. Nyx just turned two a couple months ago and he was having a horrible time sleeping through the night. Rhys and Feyre took shift but everyone knew that Rhys was the one that usually stayed up with him.

"hey I'm sorry, I know it's late, or well early, but we officially have an emergency." You said while Rhys just glanced between the two of you, it took him a good second to realize that there was suddenly an extra little one with you both. Azriels shadows darted past Rhys's feet to go check if the house was safe.

"yeah come on in, I'll go get Feyre." Rhys stepped aside and let you both in before jogging tiredly up the stairs to get his mate. You quietly sat down on the couch to re adjust the little hat Elain made for Astrid, fixing it to sit on her delicate head better. You chuckled as Rhys's appearance. Who knew that out of get trapped in hell for 50 years, enduring another war and having a baby, it was the baby that finally got him. "Poor high lord."

Azriel was still standing but he seemed to be enjoying bouncing Rhain in his arms, rocking him side to side as his shadows created a Shadowy mobile above them. He chuckled softly at your comment, glance in his brothers direction before looking back to the little boy in his arms. They were practically making heart eyes at eachother, if it wasn't so late at night you might have asked Feyre to paint it.

The way Azriel interacted with children was honestly what drew him to you in the first place and the ease in the way he can calm them makes your heart melt every time. Your mate was always so still and calm so seeing him bouncing and sway your daughter and the same way he does with Rhain now, made your heart soar higher than the stars above.

You were still smiling at your mate when you heard rushed footsteps flying down the stairs. You didn't have to look up to know that Feyre was running to come see the little one. The Shadows flared defensively but calmed at the sight of their high lady.

"OK, WHERE TH-" you shushed her quickly before she woke up all three kids in the house. She was still in her night gown and her hair was tied back messily. "Sorry, where the hell did this little cutie come from!..."

You chuckled as Feyre took Rhain from your mate. He looked skeptical and basically hovered over his sister in-law as she cuddled the baby. The Shadows however, seemed content to huddle around you and Astrid on the couch, completely ignoring their masters anxious behavior.

"Az, would you calm down, she's not gonna drop him." You say barely containing your laughter. He was actually just as overprotective as the day you brought your daughter home. It was adorable.

"Oh my gods! What's his name?!" Feyre squealed quietly and came to settle on the couch next to you. Rhain was babbling softly and grabbed Feyre's finger in his small hand.

"Rhain. His name is Rhain." Azriel said, still standing next to feyre, he's hands twitching at his side, wanting to take Rhain back from her. You shook your head at his antics, he's had this baby in his care for like 2 hours and he's already acting like Mother hen.

"I'm sorry, I know it late and I know that Nyx id having issues sleeping but we don't have anything that will fit him and I decided that this officially classified as an emergency."

"No, don't worry about it at all! Not at all, no! Not at all!" She said less to you as she cooed down at your little boy before actually lifter her gaze to you and responding. "Yeah, absolutely this is an emergency. Come on I'm sure I could spare some jumpers for him, Cauldron knows that Rhys is gonna buy him more anyway."

Feyre stood and tried to walk away with the Rhian still wrapped I her arms but a wall of shadows came to block her from walking away just long enough for Azriel to take him back. Feyre just rolled her eyes and lead you upstairs, muttering jokingly to herself about Azriel being overprotective.

2 hours later you all were back at your own home, azriel settling the baby's down for bed. You had added a temporary separator in the crib just for tonight, you'll have to make a trip to the Palace quarters tomorrow for another one. Your mate had just finished building your daughter's nursery and now you're either gonna have to rearrange everything or finds another room in your home for a second nursery... Wonderful...

Once they were both swaddled, wings and all, they were out like a light before he could flip the switch. You were sitting in bed trying to read and relax but you mind was reeling from the days events. Your mind wandered to Rhain. He was so small, he still had that fresh baby smell. You had tried to explain the smell to Mor one time but she thought you were crazy, must be a mom thing. He was underweight and dehydrated from what you could tell, the poor thing could barely suckle the bottle you had fed him earlier. You were lost in thought, book discarded laying open in your lap, as Azriel came into the room, his footsteps as silently as ever.

"So how much trouble am I in?" Your head snapped up at his voice. 4 years... 4 years you had been together and he still manages to sneak up on you, you'd think you would be better at spotted him now but no. You looked up at him, you eyes locked on him as you pulled yourself from the whirlwind of questions and worries you had gotten lost in. He was leaning forward against the bed frame at the foot of the bed. His Shadows fluttered and flitted out into the room randomly as per usual when it was time for bed. It was interesting, most people thought Azriels Shadows were just extensions of him but in reality, most of them had personalities and curiosity, it was kinda cute to watch them.

"come here..." You opened your arms for him and waited as he quickly shrugged off his leathers and siphons, a few of the Shadows helping him by catching his siphons and placing them on the dresser silently. He sank onto he stomach and into your arms with a sigh. He nuzzled his face into your chest as his wings relaxed and sprawled across the massive bed.

"I'm not upset with you. I mean I would have loved a heads up that we were gonna adopt an infant today but I know that the circumstances were anything but ideal. Trust me I would have been PISSED if I found out you didn't bring him home. You are the most compassionate and empathetic person I've ever known. Thats one of the reasons I love you so much." You smile as you feel every muscle in his body melt under your hands, your fingers working out the knots from his back. He let out a breathy moan when you gently pressed your fingers into the onyx skin at the base of his wings.

"he needed me, and you. Besides your a good mama, if anyone could give him the love he needs it's you..." He lifted himself slightly to settle on top of you better, he's arms wrapping around your waist and his thighs spreading yours a bit more. You took a second to bask in the moment, your fingers tangling and brushing through his hair, a couple of shadows coming to rest on the pillow next to you. You thanked the mother for moments like this. For the times when you both could just hold each other and feel just as loved and seen as if you had spent the night making the house shake.

"Thank you... for understanding, for not being upset. You have every right to be..." azriel mumbled, his voice laced with emotion. He was right, you did have a right to be mad but you weren't. How could you ever be upset with him for being the most loving male in Prythian?! You hugged him tighter and kissed his forehead.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever your thinking about?" You smoothed a hand over his back to try and comfort him. Even though you had been mated for a few years there were still secrets and things he refused to tell you, especially about his excuse of a childhood. You knew the basics, a general idea of how he was treated but he never went into details. You liked to think he wouldn't tell you because he knew you would find his half brothers and rip them to shreds, although You knew in reality it was most likely just to painful to actively try to remember.

"yeah I do, but not tonight. I... we can talk about it tomorrow, I don't want to ruin the night..." He said choosing his words carfully. Azriel easily sat up and flipped you both so you to rest against his side and pulled the covers over you both, the Shadows that had been occupying the pillow previously jumped away I'm a misty puff. You didn't press. You knew he would tell you when he was ready to open up. It made sense, that he past would rear it's ugly head after he brought Rhain home. You left a small kiss on his chest before snuggling into him and letting yourself drift off into your thoughts, the shadows descending over you both is calm wave urging you both into sleep.

Thank you so much for reading and as always I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! If you wanna be added to the tag list please comments or DM me to be added!

Taglist

@romantasyreader28 @tele86 @mulansaucey @jennnsthings @6v6babycheese @mich0731 @starlightandsouls @ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica @icey--stars @paleidiot @jir67 @celestialamore @rcarbo1 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @queenoffeysand @suppppp97

[skania]

OnK Chapter 159 Thoughts

It's been 159 chapters and Akane is still unrivaled as the best thing about this trainwreck of a manga 😭

My hopes for this chapter were:

For once I got pretty much everything I wanted, so I should be counting my blessings.

In an unexpected turn of events, I even more or less managed to call the Nino/Ryousuke twist 😂

I was so ready to dive into this chapter, but...

I just can't take that expression seriously 😭 How am I supposed to sit here and try to write a worthwhile post about this chapter when Mengo drew Kamiki making such a ridiculous face.

There's so much wrong with Aka's writing that I don't even know where to begin, but I think the core of it is that this man deliberately withholds information in order to artificially create a sense of "mystery" and "twists". We can sit here all day dissecting everything about this chapter, but what it comes down to is that Aka can completely change contexts by simply revealing any of the stuff he has off-paneled.

Take the Kamiki "Twist" for example. When the text leaks originally dropped, there were no dialogues and no expressions, so I thought that maybe the twist would be that Kamiki doesn't intend to turn himself into the police and that he just wants to die instead.

With the full context however, everything points towards Kamiki being the big bad after all. So we got a two-chapter long twist involving Nino only to reveal that... no, actually, we're going back to Kamiki.

And it could have been good. Kamiki potentially managing to fool both, Aqua and Akane into thinking that he was innocent could have been great. There certainly are certain moments that only make sense if Kamiki isn't as innocent and as regretful as he pretended to be.

The problem is that it was so incredibly rushed that the detour feels rather... pointless? It's like Aka's main objective was to surprise the audience. But the audience wouldn't have been surprised if we had had any insight into Aqua's and Akane's research up to this point, so it's once again just Aka off-paneling stuff instead of writing things organically.

Another good example is the Kana graduation. Yeah, okay, she's graduating and Aqua isn't at the concert. That should be the last nail in that coffin, but Aka could just say that Aqua saw her before the concert. Or that he will somehow manage to see her after the concert. Anything to fulfill whatever it is that he wants to write, really.

So I'm going to leave Aka's lousy writing aside and focus on what I, personally, I'm hoping to see.

The Nino/Ryousuke thing showed just how flawed Kana's line of thinking is. You aren't supposed to be the Oshi of your special someone, you're supposed to be their partner. Admiration is the furthest thing from understanding, and this chapter got that across very well.

While Kana was off dreaming of her shoujo romance with Aqua, Akane and Aqua were planning how to gather proof against the people who ruined Aqua's family. Akane's out there wearing an anti-stab vest to protect Ruby and bring Nino to justice, Aqua is out there facing Kamiki.

If Kana has had no contact with Aqua at all and only finds out the reason for his absence later, I'm hoping that this will help her realize that they're in two different worlds. That there's an entire side to Aqua, a very complex side, that she has absolutely no idea about. Because all this time, she's been so busy dreaming of him that she has never taken the time to actually know him.

Another thing I'm wondering about is: if neither Aqua nor Akane expected this Kamiki twist, then where was Aqua during the beginning of the chapter? Could it be that he was tailing Kamiki because he already had an inkling about his true nature? If so, could it also be that whatever plan Kamiki was going to put in motion has already been stopped by the AquaKane + helpers tagteam?

I could go on all day, but I can't help but feel like the writing just hasn't earned being given that much thought. So I'm just not going to theorize anything and I'll simply read whatever Aka writes next week lol

I'm looking forward to seeing Kamiki's truth next chapter, and I'm also hoping that Akane will end up joining Aqua because I'd love to see her properly interact with Kamiki. But not going to lie, now more than ever I'm really only reading so I can see Akane be the amazing woman that she is and so I can hopefully see Aqua and Akane get back together so that at least the romance is salvageable, because everything else is a trainwreck.

[she-whatshername]

Heyy love! I am not so sure if I asked you this before (I think I did), could you make a scenario on Bodhi coming into the kitchen and finding us baking/cooking something he really loves. Thank you if you do. ❤️

Hello!! Thank you for your patience as I pulled this together. Life has been lifeing these past few weeks and finding time to write an actual fic vs my usual headcannons has been tough. But here we are. I added a little twist to the request, I hope that's alright. Also, IDK why, but I wanted to bring some angst into this fic. Enjoy. Also also not edited because, it me lolol

Bodhi hadn't realized he had eaten so much today, but realizations like this usually tend to happen when you find yourself spewing your guts into the drain of the quadrant showers, fully clothed and soaking wet. Gods, he would never look at breakfast food the same way ever again.

He would never look at you the same way ever again. That is, if you'd even want to look his way again.

Aside from the bile, feelings of shame and guilt stirred into his stomach.

He walked out on you. After you had done what would be the kindest gesture anyone has done for Bodhi, second to the silver scar with his invisible signature carved onto his cousins back. Fuck, he really messed up.

After taking a few more deep breaths, and a few more heaves of what he assumed was last nights dinner, Bodhi turned off the running water, returned to his room to peel off his clothes and climb into bed. Everything but sleep seemed to find him in the late hours of the night.

The next day he decided to skip breakfast and head to the sparring mats, hoping to clear his mind if not by his own abilities or someone punching some sense into him. Luck came in the form of Garrick, who happily took him up on the offer.

A few sessions later Bodhi was standing with his hands on his muscle of his hips, catching his breath, only to lose it as you entered the gym. He couldn't help but stare, and the moment your eyes both connected he felt that same twist in his stomach despite how empty it was.

You had managed to give him a glare that expressed both your anger and hurt; a marvel of your beauty, one that always made Bodhi awestruck. But, your stare and quick retreat back to the hall caught Garricks attention, "What was that?"

"Nothing." Bodhi shrugged him off.

But, Garrick was both observant, and persistent, and a pain in the ass when the two combine, "Not nothing. She was silently screaming at you to fuck off and hug her with her eyes. What's the deal? I thought you two were good."

Bodhi decided to just cave in, because he knew Garrick wasn't going to let up. He's like a dog on a bone when it comes to gossip and the fact that Bodhi looked up to him like a brother didn't make it any easier, "I uh...we." Bodhi found himself stumbling over his words, "She invited me to her room, she had a surprise for me."

"Oh did she now."

Bodhi grimaced, "Not like that, cut it out."

"So what was it?"

Bodhi couldn't help but look at the floor, "You remember those tea cakes we had growing up back home? The ones with the-"

"The best icing ever? Perfectly baked? Hells yes I remember them." Garrick eyes were growing wider by the second, "We used to get in so much shit trying to take extra ones from the staff at Riorson House. I had to shovel so much horeshit that one summer when Xaden and I stole a whole plate. Why the fuck are you bringing up tea cakes?"

"She made them." Bodhi answered simply, "I dont know how she did it but she found the recipe and...she made them. Just like the ones back home."

"Fuck."

"It gets worse." Bodhi added sourly, "You know she's good at drawing right? She practically redrew the map in our land navigation exercise because she's got this fantastic memory. Well, she also..." Fuck was he going to vomit again, "She drew me a landscape of Aretia. The mountains and valleys. She got a scribe to get a copy of an old battle brief from the rebellion on a favor and copied it. She knew I was feeling homesick so she brought home to me, said we could eat together in front of her drawing...and pretend I was back home."

Garrick took a step backwards, eyes now wide in disbelief, "Well...fuck. So, wait why was she glaring at you this morning."

"I may have...." Bodhi mumbled out the rest.

"You what?"

"I may have...maybe....I walked out on her - wait Garrick what are you - ack!" Bodhi didn't have any time to react as his body was hoisted in the air and slammed down on the mat in an aggressive tackle. It only took a few seconds but Bodhi found himself with his arm twisted behind his back and face pressed into the leather mats, It was just like he was a teenager again, "Garrick! Let me go."

"You're telling me she made this nice ass gesture for you. Drawing you a picture of our fucking home," He gritted that part out in a harsh whisper, "And you walked out on her. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Bodhi couldn't help but bite out, "You're giving me lectures on how to talk to women? You're one to talk- Ow, Fuck!"

Bodhi found himself stuttering over his words, it didnt' help that he was feeling the blood drain from his arm under Garricks secure grasp "I don't know! I got...I got overwhelmed and-"

"Gods, I already have to deal with one lovestruck idiot, I can't take having to chase down another one. I'm going to get you excused from classes today because you're clearly sick in the fucking head. Get your shit together and go fucking apologize or I will take you up to the parapet and throw you off myself." He ended his threat with a final shove of his forearm, pushing Bodhi's face further into the mat

"Okay, Okay!" He whined before Garrick finally released him, muttering a few reprimanding words in Tyrrish before walking out of the gym. Bodhi rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He had a lot of making up to do.

And he did. He spent most of the morning pacing around his room trying to think of a proper apology. Then, it was to the infantry quadrant to cash in on a favor himself and finally it was mid afternoon and he had enough courage to face you. So he waited outside your room for what felt like hours until you finally arrived, pausing at the end of the hall. As you attempted to turn away raced towards you, almost dropping to his knees to begin his apology, only for you to drag him into your room, "Its not safe for you to do that."

Gods, even when your pissed at him, you still have the clarity to recognize the politicalness of your relationship. You really are absolutely brilliant.

Over the course of the afternoon he fulfilled his objective of apologizing profusely, from being venerable in his own trauma of what happened in Aretia, and how meaningful your gift was that it created a sense of foreboding joy within him, and emotions he hadn't taken the time to process bubbled over, letting you down in the process.

You listened carefully, but even you had your limits of watching a man you love kneel before you with such shame on his face. You wrapped him into a hug, finding it healing for you both. And, as the merciful and and kind woman you are, you unwrapped the tea cakes from the cloth on your desk next to the painting, inviting him to sit down with you again to enjoy a meal a meal from his home.

"You're my home." He said to you, his hands never letting go of yours, "I will always be home whenever I am with you."

And he made a promise to you that day, when all was over with this war, when the truth of his rebellion eventually finds itself out, when the venin are vanquished beyond the barrens, he would sit with you under a tree in the hillsides of Aretia as husband and wife, your children playing in the not far off distance, safe and happy.

And as a man of his word, three years later, he did just that.

[turtlelioni]

Krisnix has the potential to be so deliciously fucked up hear me out

We always talk about Kristoph's influence on Phoenix, how it drove him to be this secretive, conniving sleazebag that we see in AA4, how Phoenix had to bear this man watching his every move for seven years and put up the friendship front at least every day every week. Can we talk about how resilient that is of him I couldn't stand to suffer that in silence with all my loved ones away from me. And to pretend you're that bitch's friend without bitching about it to anyone later? self inflicted torture.

but also

Phoenix, for however long he suspected Kristoph of ruining his career, never suspected him as capable of murder. And I don't believe that he was capable, not of the hands-on kind that he commited with Zak, but Kristoph was driven to the edges of his sanity with Phoenix as well. We know that he attempted to poison Drew and Vera Misham almost at the same time he got Phoenix disbarred, and while it was vile, it was all calculated. Flawless. Clean.

Which is why the way he murdered Zak is so fascinating. Kristoph Gavin, the coolest defense in the west, the gentleman attorney, hit this man with a bottle over the head. It's messy. It's desperate. It's his last shred of composure being obliterated, because during the seven years that he stalked and manipulated Phoenix, he was under his scrutiny as well.

He knew that Phoenix suspected him to some extent. Aside from the loose ends that he hoped would be resolved in time, he knew that this man had friends with inexplicable "bring back the dead" powers and that his best friend was Miles Edgeworth, whom he most likely has gone up against. He knew that Phoenix was only playing dumb with him, because whoever could best him at poker every single time could not be a complete fool.

Phoenix drove this cold, calculated killer into a barfight murderer. He brought him to the brink of desperation in trying to cover his mess and they only knew half of the shit each other were doing during those seven years.

Just the poison as symbolism for their whole relationship, man. Phoenix trusting Kristoph at first, slowly realizing what he's really done to him, him poisoning himself in return by being around him- the drinking, the dishevelled appearance, the backroom poker playing, Kristoph becoming more paranoid, more desperate, more risky.

Phoenix was aware of the fact that the man he was hanging out with had the potential to turn him and his loved ones out on the streets, but to find out that he was also a murderer? Capable of both the insidious kind and the hands-on kind? the betrayal. the anguish. just when you build a tolerance to him, he attacks you again.

I could easily see Phoenix develop an even deeper paranoia, having all of his house and belongings tested for poison after AA4.

I could see it actually being there.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Domestic life

Azriel's week: Day 4

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 1100+

Four broken ribs and numerous cuts and bruises. It felt just as bad as it was. Madja mended your broken bones, so you could at least breathe even though it still hurt. The rest would eventually heal on its own.

Azriel took you back to the House of Wind as soon as Madja allowed you to leave. He gently placed you on bed and looked around.

"Where can I find some proper comfy clothes for you," he asked trying to look anywhere but you.

It was only then you realized you were almost completely naked, few pieces of cloth hardly covering your intimate parts. "Over there," you pointed to small dresser under the window. Heat was burning your face and you wished you could hide somewhere. However at the moment you were glad you at least managed to remain conscious.

Azriel carefully opened one drawer after another warily examining the content. Finally he drew one of your favourite plushy shirts and soft sweatpants, your underwear hanging from his fingers of the other hand. You gasped, utterly mortified. You were more than sure that after this you wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes. Never.

Looking ashamed he turned to you and stepped closer to the bed. You would give anything in the world to be able to change on your own. You even considered asking him to call for Mor or any other female to help you, but he overtook you.

"I won't look. I promise," he murmured, face as red as yours.

"Ok," you mumbled, averting your face to the other side.

Azriel was so damn tender. All the time he was looking elsewhere as he promised while his hands lightly roamed over your body, collecting the fabric scraps that used to be clothes. The touch of his fingers was so light that you wouldn't feel it at all if it weren't for the sensitive bruises that covered you from head to toes. He was done dressing you up in no time.

"Do you need something?" he asked softly, looking down on you with still pink cheeks.

"I'm fine," you mumbled.

Azriel reached to the shadows and pulled out steaming mug. "It's tea from Madja." You accepted the mug and with his help drank it up. In an instant you became very sleepy. "Rest well," were the last words you heard before you dived into the realm of dreams.

You didn't have dreams, not real ones, maybe just one, but you weren't sure if it was dream or reality. You didn't remember it clearly. It seemed you woke up for a moment during the night and saw Azriel sitting next to you on the bed, squeezing your hand. He cried repeating the same words over and over. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." You didn't know what happened after that because at that point the scene vanished. Maybe it was only dream after all.

You woke up in the morning and found Azriel in an armchair he shoved to the bed. He was reading pretty thick book, totally absorbed in the story. Even thought you already saw him with books in hands, you had never seen him actually read them. It was interesting sight. His features were way softer and he looked young and handsome and attractive and.. sexy. You shook head to get rid of the last thought. You shouldn't think about him that way.

The shadows rubbed against his ear and his eyes immediately shot up to you. He closed the book and put it aside.

"Hey. How do you feel?" he asked leaning closer. Now you could see dark circles under his eyes. He looked so tired. No doubt he sat there all night watching over you.

"Well, I feel like beaten dog, but except of that I'm good," grimacing you sat up. Shadowsinger pursed lips and the gesture reminded you of the strange dream. Looking at him you could see just tiredness and nothing else, so you decided to forget about it.

It took just few days until all your wounds and bruises healed. Azriel spent most of the time talking with you or reading his book in your room. You were curious and asked him what it is about, but his cheeks only turned pink and he didn't want to answer nor show you the book. Every member of inner circle came to visit you bringing books and sweets. Cassian even brought you his famous smoothie every morning. When Rhysand came to visit you except of his excessive care you got a work ban for entire month. No matter what you said he refused to change his mind. And so you sat in your room and didn't know what to do with so much free time.

A light knock that you already knew well, sounded on the doors and Azriel peeked in.

"What are you going to do today?" he asked.

"I have no idea. I'd like to go to library, but when I tried it yesterday, Clotho sent me away because of Rhys and his ban," you grunted.

"I'm going to the city. Don't you want to join me?"

"And what are you going to do? Because if it's going to be spying on someone, I'd rather stayed out of it. At least for some time," you grinned.

His jaw tightened, but he looked amused. "Nothing like that. I think you will like it." And so you went with Shadowsinger.

He led you through narrow streets for some time, finally stopping in front of small shop with lovely looking door and windows. Pleasant smell emanating from inside, made your stomach rumble.

"Where are we?" you asked.

Azriel hesitated and his wings rustled as he tugged them closer. "It's my favourite place that I like to visit when I want to have some rest from others," he muttered sheepishly.

You couldn't believe it. He looked more like the type of guy spending his free time at pleasure hall than in lovely cafes.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to know about your hideaway?"

"This isn't the only place I like to visit. I have others too," he smirked. "So shall we go in?"

"Sure," you grinned. Azriel held the door open for you. The place was so nice and cozy. You loved absolutely everything about it. Azriel ordered tea and four different cakes that you shared together. Even staff seemed to be friendly with scary Shadowsinger, so he really had to visit here often.

After that he took you for a walk, showing you some small, but beautiful and quiet gardens you had no idea that existed.

Thanks to Azriel you had a splendid day, not even once missing the library or books. You returned to the House of Wind tired, but happy and soon fell asleep.

[whorxology]

⛧☾༺♰Restless♰༻☽⛧

WARNINGS: Mentions of past relationship with Luke, Spoilers for Ep 8 PJO, Angst, Cliffhanger, very much so not canonically accurate, not proofread

W.C: 0.7

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of PJO is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A/N: I kinda fell out of my PJO phase after the last episode but I wrote like right after the last episode dropped and forgot to post it 🧍🏻......... its here now 🤗

Again. Again. Again. Again. You continue to hit the dummy over and over again. The wooden sword dug into your palm as it hit the stuffed mannequin. You had hoped that training would help take things off your mind but the events from last night played over and over in your head. It was like a broken record or a taunting little kid annoying and making you bubble with anger.

You weren't supposed to be there. You were supposed to be with Annabeth watching Clarrissa. Annabeth had disappeared and you were left alone with the target. She had made a snarky comment about if you wanted to make friendship bracelets with her since you seem to be glued to her ass. She and you weren’t friends mainly because of how rude she was to Percy. Her comment made you realize that she wasn't Percy's friend and that meant that the prophecy couldn't have been about her. 

You had rushed to find Percy and Luke. You couldn’t believe your thoughts you didn't want to think that Luke, amazing boyfriend Luke, your Luke could be the traitor. You had hidden in the treeline just a few feet from Percy and Luke. Everything seemed to be okay which made your chest loosen up a bit. Then you heard it. 

“I didn’t think you’d give ’em to Grover to wear.” 

“How long have they been doing that? '' Percy’s voice pulled you from your mind. The loud clank of the sword could be heard as it made contact with the dummy. Actually, dummy would be an overstatement at this point. This was just a bag of straw on a pole with a face on it. A face that awfully resembled Luke's. The hitting got harder the pole holding the bag of straw was shaking with every hit. 

“Since this morning, they couldn't sleep and as soon as the curfew was over they got up and immediately came here” Annabeth spoke. You knew it was her. She's been periodically checking in on you since you got here. 

“Have they eaten or drunk anything at all? It's nearly 100 degrees out here” When was the last time you ate or drank anything. The subtle grumble in your stomach reminded you that it had in fact been a while. You ignored it fueled by anger the hunger faded. 

The once loose feeling tightened by a lot. Your chest felt as if you had been hit full force by a bull. Your hands shook as you reached for your sword. The sword Luke had gifted you. Tears spilled from your eyes leaving wet trails down your face and a salt ting on your lips. It was Luke all along. How could your Luke do this? Everything you thought you knew about him. Gone. 

“I am your friend.” 

The loud crack of your sword drew you from your thoughts. You had broken the wooden sword in half. The large blade splinted jaggedly down the middle. Tossing it aside you hastily pulled out your sword. The beautiful golden glimmer on the handle reminds you of Luke. You swung at the dummy and you swung hard. The harsh bangs were heard throughout the camp. 

“She’s going to end up breaking the poor dummy”  Percy tried to joke to ease the tension in the air. You didn’t acknowledge the joke still hitting the dummy as if it was Luke all over again. 

“Better the dummy than us” Annabeth muttered barely loud enough for you to hear. You swear Luke had said the exact same thing to you when you had pissed off Clarrissa. The memory of you and him laughing turned sour in your mind. A loud almost thunder-sounding crack echoed throughout the camp. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at the source. The source was you. You had hit the dummy so hard you had cracked it in half.  

You were panting hard. Sweat covered your entire body as your shirt stuck to your back uncomfortably and your bare thighs stuck together the shorts you wore in hopes of keeping you cool failing. Your fingertips were white from how hard you had been gripping your sword. The blood-red gems leave imprints on your palms. 

You were still thinking of last night. 

“Are you okay you don’t look so good?” You could hear his voice. It was fuzzy and spun around in your head. You turned to face him. To tell him you were fine. You spun around fast only to be met with two Percy Jacksons. 

“Huh?” was all you said as your sword slipped from your grasp and you fell to the side. Head hitting the land before it all went black. 

 “Percy, none of this was meant to betray you”

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 406: Babysitting, p1

“Now, isn’t that adorable,” Randi said, in her typically acerbic tone, in her typically smoky voice, as I came around the corner downstairs in my typically reticent way.

Let's back up a bit. Melissa had gone to work hours ago, leaving me swaddled in her bedsheets,. We’d ‘agreed’ that  I was too exhausted and would stay home today. It was a little hard to remember honestly. After my time with ‘Mr. Sock’, everything was a blur. I just remember nodding as she wrapped me carefully in her sheets. Either way, my RNs would be able to cover my patients while I was gone. It really seemed like I didn't have much to do these days. I figured, after all the stress I’d been through, I deserved a break. It was good that there were people on which I could rely.

Melissa, on the other hand, was working hard. It was one of our last days before the new wings opened (I hadn’t even set foot in them yet) and there was a lot to do for her and the other girls: new staff to prepare for, press to deal with, all the final preparations. I got the feeling they didn’t want me in the way. 

Anyway, I was peeled myself out of bed just before noon, and immediately I could feel it. As soon as I’d dropped the bra Melissa had left me to cuddle in my sleep, my stomach took a turn. A few more steps away from it and the headache started. Only by picking it back up and taking a breath from one of its enormous cups of firm white satin allowed me to feel better. Jesus! What was in that perfume she wore?? I actually needed to keep the bra near me, hanging it close by the shower as I rinsed myself off. I guess I’d be breathing through it today. 

Thus, the snide ‘adorable’ comment. I’d needed the bra over my mouth and nose to come downstairs, dressed in sweats and a new collared shirt after my shower, and when I turned into the great room I found Randi curled up on the couch with her laptop, looking right at me. I froze, flushing in embarrassment. I was probably quite the sight. 

“You realize you don’t need that, right? Not with me here,” Randi continued, eyeing me with an amused glint that made me feel even smaller than my - man, I didn’t even know how short I was at that point. “But if you want to keep wearing Missy’s bra over your face all day, be my guest.”

I could feel how I wasn’t quite willing to let it go, and I found myself taking another deep breath. I knew this was ridiculous though, so after an awkward moment of staring at Randi with Melissa’s bra covering my face, I tentatively peeled it away and set it down. I took took a new breath. Yes, the familiar perfume that filled the air at the office and followed Melissa in a cloud wherever she went was here, too. Randi must be wearing it. Great, I guess. 

“Thanks,” I muttered, now awkwardly looking for a place to deposit my girlfriend's industrial-grade brassiere. 

“Here, bring it,” Randi bid me, waving me over towards her. Being her typical self, she seemed impatient with me already. 

In little steps I approached, handed it to her. I took note of her outfit: casual lounge wear,  ¾ length pants of soft gray cotton, and a black tank. Her long, racehorse legs were curled beneath her, her feet bare. 

She took the bra and put it aside herself on a side table, next to some paperwork and a glass coffee mug. “Missy wanted me to run a load of laundry, I’ll throw this in.” She looked at me again, up and down, regarding me with a snide smirk on her lips as I stood,  saying nothing. “You can help with that later.”

“s-sure,” I agreed. 

She looked at me, and I at her. Randi really was a gorgeous girl: tall, darkly lean, elegant composure…and now quite busty herself, to which she drew attention by casually adjusting one of the straps of her top .

Finally she spoke again. “So, it’s you and me today,” Randi began, a curl coming to her smile and dimpling her high cheeks, dark eyes sparkling, “I was here all night making sure the morons fixed everything. Which they did, finally. Did you hear them last night?”

Finally called to communicate, I rallied myself. “Uh…uh, no, not really.” I looked around: yeah, the table was back in place, the walls patched with the smell of fresh paint sharing the air with Randi’s perfume. A light fixture or two were missing, but otherwise the place looked normal. “I must have slept through it.”

“Yeah I heard she gave you quite the evening, quite the night,” Randi quipped, “nine times, huh, stud?” Her eyes glittered again at my obvious discomfort as I recalled it all. “I felt each one, down here. You made me finally bust through my old sandals,” she added, “thanks a lot.”

A pair of gray plastic flip-flops sat off to the side, straps popped. 

This can’t be real. 

She saw me looking at them. 

“Anyway,” Randi continued, “between all those nuts of yours and Katarina’s breastmilk I heard you slept like a baby. Not me I-”

“Sh-she told you that?” I sputtered, feeling a new wave of ignominy wash over me, my face flushing anew. 

“Haha yeah she did,” she chuckled, tickled by my discomfort, “she said you sucked it all down and then spent the rest of the night on the nipple.”

“Wh-what?!?” I exclaimed. I have to talk to her! I immediately thought, I don’t want all this sh-

“Hey, relax, at least one of us got some sleep,” Randi added, obviously a bit irritated. “Actually, seeing you sleep so much makes Missy more reluctant to give you more of Katarina’s milk. She used the last one in the fridge last night, but it really knocks you out.” 

“Yeah,” I answered, not knowing what to say but skin squirming as I pictured the two of these women talking about me like this, making decisions for me, trying to adjust my behavior. Discussing my diet of breastmilk, for god’s sake. 

“I thought maybe I’d be able to sleep but I have all this social media stuff to handle,” Randi lamented, using outstretched hands to demonstrate the laptop, the tablet and the piles of paper she had surrounding her. It looked like a lot, I guess. “Your girlfriend’s made quite the stir, with her tv interview last night. I’m trying to handle all the new attention she’s getting today. Her accounts, the office’s - even mine and the other girls’. They’re all suddenly very popular. Yours too.“

“Wait, what? Mine?” Without a phone since this past weekend, I really hadn’t seen my accounts for days. Not that I ever really paid them much attention. 

“Yeah, even yours,” Randi answered, “Missy asked me to start running your IG too, handling all the attention since Amelia’s video dropped. So, I’ve been replying to all your new ‘fans’, posting a few things for you and-”

“B-b-b-but that’s..that’s-“ Gah! That’s private! What could these girls find out about me if..if…? “How’d you get my passwords??”

“Hey you should be happy,” Randi said - obviously ignoring my question - “you’ve got like more than twelve thousand followers now. Everyone wants a piece of Mr. Vulni, of Melissssy’s scrawny little boyfriend.”

“Jeez,” I offered, running a hand through my hair, scratching my scalp and aware of the dark little thrill of narcissistic pride that gave me Am I popular now? (and why am I not bothered by the ‘scrawny’ jab?). Plus, despite the invasion of privacy - was she actually pretending to be me online? - this was Randi’s job, I guess, handling our social media. I realize now that I was trying to rationalize. I used to do that a lot. “The news thing, Melissa’s interview was good? For getting some, uh, followers? For, y’know, the office. I haven’t see-“

“‘Good?’” Randi snorted, “It’s insane. Another part of it’s coming tonight at 6:30. And - they’re talking about broadcasting the whole profile piece nationally on MSIT.  Fuck. I think I’m busy with these accounts after last night? If that happens, she’s gonna be huge. I’m going to need fifteen of me.”

I had the feeling that, despite her tone, Randi maybe didn’t mind her new responsibilities as much as she let on. “Wow,” was all I could manage, “Huge, huh..?” Was my girlfriend actually getting famous? Big, tall girls are in, I guess, and for that Melissa definitely qualifies. How many men were out there following her? Should I haha be jealous? I didn’t really know what I was feeling, aside from a weird, sudden buildup of pressure in my balls. “...Th-that’s great I guess.”

“Yeah, just more work for me. Plus, I now have you to babysit,” she finished, picking her laptop up off her lap and setting it aside. She took a deep breath, sitting up straight, and looked at me. “So, what do you want to do? Are you hungry?”

Babysit? I’d barely heard her question, still shocked by and stuck on that word. Melissa had used ‘babysit’ this morning, before she left me to sleep. She was, of course, joking (right?) but with my condition making me sensitive I bristled at it then, and I did it again now. “Hey Randi I know Melissa left you here t-“

“Oh shut it, I’m babysitting you,” she said, as she prepared to stand, “Just count yourself lucky she didn’t ask little Jenny from down the street to do it.”

“Who’s ’Jenny’?”

“Omigod you’re sooo clueless. C’mere-“

At that, Randi stood from the couch, hand outstretched toward me. She smiled, her lips taking on an extra curl and eyes sparking as she saw me take in her height, and then she took a step back allowing me to appreciate the scale of us.

 I was, oh my god, barely up to her breasts. 

“WOW you’re short,” she exclaimed, “Shorter than yesterday for sure.” She cocked her head at me, obviously enjoying this. “What are things like for you down there,” she chuckled, “having to look up at us ladies all the time?” 

I didn’t say anything.

“Now, you missed breakfast, it’s already lunchtime, and she wanted me to make sure you ate. But first I want to check something.” She took a step toward the kitchen and waggled her hand at me, beckoning me to her. “Come.”

I didn’t move, still astounded. I did feel shorter. 

“Come. Here.”

At that, Randi grabbed my hand and yanked me toward her. Dragging me with strides longer than my own, she started marching me towards the kitchen, where there was milk in the fridge and - fuck me - a measuring tape in the drawer. 

“I want to check this out,” she said, voice alive with excitement as she stood me against the wall and pulled open the tape, ”Let’s see just how much you’ve lost...”

…

Twenty minutes later I was sitting, sullen in front of the tv, on the opposite end of the couch from where Randi was working with her laptop. My lunch was on the coffee table in front of me: PB&J on toast, a glass of whole milk that I made sure to watch Randi pour from a regular milk carton, thank you very much, and some veggie chips. I was leaning forward with my chin in my hands, ignoring my lunch and half-watching this show Randi had put on for me to keep me occupied while she worked.

I really wasn’t hungry, and every bite was bland and tasteless. Likewise, I could barely concentrate on the tv as those numbers just kept going through my head:

Fifty-five inches. I was 4’7”. I’d shrunk five inches in less than a week! I should be freaking out, I should be terrified. I was diminishing, in so many ways, more  than just vertically, and I should’ve been putting every ounce of my energy into figuring  out what was going on. But, instead, there I was, with a little-kid’s lunch I’d picked over, watching some daytime tv while one of my new employees babysat me and did all the work. I was at a complete loss of what to do. Five inches! In less than a week! I couldn’t stop lamenting it. At least Melissa will be happy to hear this. She likes me short.

I took a bite of my sandwich, sweet and chewy. Yuck. 

Randi had plunked me down in front of the television so she could get back to work. She’d run through a few options with the remote and settled on MSIT, this new men’s network, which was running a marathon of some apparently popular retro sitcom. The first season released just recently, but done in a style from yesteryear. The special effects (they had to be special effects, right?) were pretty impressive…

I don’t know how it was lost on me, the similarities between “Harry”, the hapless breadwinner main character and myself. His wife - all wives, all women in fact, had grown two feet - and of course the male population of suburban 1964 was just trying to keep up appearances, living in various stages of denial. Hilarity, of course, ensues. Like in this episode where Harry starts to realize his business suits are all seeming a little too big on him. “Did you put this in the wash, honey?” he asked his towering wife. He’d interrupted her morning coffee with the girls from the neighborhood. 

“Darling, you know that would shrink your suit,” she replied patiently, looking down at her blunderbuss husband, “if anything you should be asking if I threw you in there…”

I hate sitcoms with laugh tracks. 

Anyway, once that episode was over, and then six more, I’d reached to grab the remote and - under Randi’s watchful eye - started flipping around the channels. I hadn’t seen a lot of midafternoon TV recently, but it certainly hadn’t improved in quality. Talk shows, mainly. ‘The View’, ‘Judge Judy’, stuff like that. It wasn’t too different from normal as long as you didn’t pay attention to the details.  For a moment, I settled on ‘The Kathleen O’Connor Show’, a talk show which had several female executives from some big company in the studio. Nexifem, it looked like. 

“Welcome back!” announced the pretty blonde host in a smooth and cheerful voice, “Today we’re talking about exciting radical futures and just how far the fempowerment movement can take us toward a better world. What is the next level? Where can women make helpful changes to push toward a better future? We’ve got some big surprises for you today, including something that may shock many of you.”

The host’s smile was ebullient, inviting me to keep watching, but there was something ominously disturbing about the applause that rose from the all-woman audience in response to her words. 

“How many of you have wondered or speculated just what might happen if the vulni-chic movement went even further?” she continued, the camera pulling back to reveal that she was standing behind a table upon which lay a large metal platter, covered by a large metal dome with a handle.

The sound of clapping and voiced affirmations rose like a wave. There was definitely excitement in the audience. They wanted to see what was under that dome, on that platter. 

“And how many of you have noticed just how many young men are choosing supplements and lifestyles that seem to limit their size, so they can appeal to potential girlfriends, their wives, or just fit in more with the trends - even to get jobs?”

Again, the applause rose in response to the host’s question.

“Well ladies, let me show you something that will blow your minds!” the host continued, big hoop earrings jangling as her right hand came to the handle of the shiny metal dome, “Today we have some special guests, incl-“

Suddenly, the channel changed. Randi had grabbed the remote and changed the channel. 

Did she not want me to see that?

“One of the girls just texted me,” she said, pointing it at the television, “Channel 5’s replaying Missy’s interview from last night, for the afternoon news.”

“Cool.” I hadn’t seen this yet. I’d wanted to- 

Yikes...

Onscreen: Melissa. Melissa in an oh-my-god plunging pink top and a camera angle that put her biggest assets front and center. Jesus christ look at her! She was in the backseat of some car, maybe a limo, and the reporter was interviewing her.

“What is she wearing…?” I muttered. 

“She chose that pink top to flex on all the little men watching,” Randi commented, as I stared wide-eyed at the screen. The news piece was supposed to be a story about FHMA, our grand re-opening/expansion, but this seemed more like a study in idolatry, a fetishistic focus on our amazonic Office Manager…and my girlfriend.  “Meager male minds are melting everywhere, I’m sure,” Randi finished. There was a strange tone to her voice, but that was entirely lost on me. Rather, I was getting more consumed by a strange, unusual feeling for me. 

She chose to wear that? On tv? I silently seethed, imagining all the men plastered to their sets at home leering at her. Even with me, feeling this - let’s face it - jealousy, I found there was no way to take my eyes off her. I became immediately hard just watching. I felt hypnotized and another sudden swelling in my balls. I had a load, ready, pent up, growing. I wanted to show her. I needed to release for her.

All the others do too, don’t they?

Randi, to my side, was watching me more than she was watching the screen. She saw me enraptured, and my brow furrowing. Slowly, she inched over towards me on the couch, and - remote still in hand - rewound the interview to the beginning as it came near its conclusion. The whole thing ran maybe three minutes and we were going to watch it again, from the beginning.

Staring at the screen, watching Melissa’s breasts jiggle and sway as she laughed and joked with the reporter, I was barely aware of Randi getting down in front of me where I sat and kneeling. “Look at her, dude, look at how amazing Missy is,” I only half-heard what she said, my eyes glued to the screen. She slowly and gently pushed my knees apart and - looking up at me to make sure I was still watching, she pulled the waistband of my sweatpants down over my steel pole of an erection that had sprung in my pants without me even noticing. 

She gave me the remote,  told me to pause and rewind whenever I wanted. When she placed it in my hand I felt my small fingers curl around it as I continued to watch the jiggly display in front of me, becoming glassy eyed. 

I didn’t see Randi flex her jaw, opening her mouth up much wider than should be humanly possible. 

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?” she then purred in a voice thick with portent, watching how my eyes had completely glazed over.

She’d begun to lightly stroke me, as I stared. 

“Look at her,” Randi purred, “You can’t help it, she’s fucking magnetic. Everyone wants to look at her, to watch her, to listen to what she says.” <Stroke, stroke, stroke> came her attentions on my cock, though still I don’t think I was barely registering it, or what she was saying to me. “And this is just the beginning, buddy. I was on social media all night, and that’s what I’ve been doing today. Pushing her out everywhere. This interview is going to explode and she’s going to get huge. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to live completely in your girlfriend's shadow?”

Into the otherwise empty house, to the replay of Melissa giggling and smiling on the big screen tv, I groaned aloud. 

“Because this interview, the piece they’re doing on the grand opening?” Randi continued, as precum had begun to drool out of me, “It’s not really about the practice, or some new women’s health center, no. It’s all about her. She’s going to be a bigger deal than “Far Horizons” ever could be.”

“Oh god…yes…” I moaned to Melissa when she casually shifted her enormous breasts toward the camera, nearly filling the screen. Randi was right. Melissa had said it to me last night - hadn’t she? - that she was going to be the biggest. Had she said it out loud? Had I just imagined it? But that's what she wanted, and Melissa tends to get what Melissa wants. And not just big and famous. But, like, big and BIG. Taller, stronger, bigger than anyone else, ever. Some impossible goal that you'd hear on a playground. Something fantastical that would need the laws of biology and physics to be bent out of shape, which, by god, had already begun to happen.

I hadn't taken her seriously, thinking it to be hyperbole, but, watching her on television I was starting to realize that she might just turn that ridiculous goal into a reality. She was getting exactly what she'd said she would, but what I didn’t know then was that the seeds for this were all planted long, long before I even knew her.

“You know it, don’t you?” Randi continued, “It’s all about her.”

Once again, with Melissa’s tits on the tv I was barely listening to Randi. I did feel it, though, and moaned in assent when finally she put her lips onto me, over me, sliding me head, shaft and -oh my god - balls into her huge, warm mouth. My entire manhood, tip-to-root, was inside Randi and - with just a little shift forward - fully between her teeth. It didn’t even cross my mind at the time: how is she doing that? I was too enraptured in watching Melissa on screen, laughing and posing and broadcasting her magnificence to the world…

=====================================================================================

Big thanks to longtime reader Jack for some dialogue help, and also thanks again to Horuvex for allowing the universe of GITJ overlap his, in this chapter with ‘The Kathleen O’Connor Show’. Want to - spoiler alert -  know what was on that platter? Read his “Nexifem”.

[storiesaplenty]

Bridgerton: Christmas 2024

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: none. Just fluff

WC: 904

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"You are the most annoying man I have ever met Benedict Bridgerton." I said to him as I walked past him after I slammed the door closed behind me.

"That isn't very lady like, now is?" He leaned against the wall, smirking as he watched me take off my winter jacket.

"Because of you, we missed the final carriage to church, and now there is too much snow for us to walk in."

"Are you seriously that upset about us missing church? They do the same play every year." Benedict said, as he sat down in my favourite chair.

"Yes, because Penelope's son was playing the baby Jesus, and I told her I would be there. But because you insisted we talk just as we were to leave, the last carriage went off without us."

"How was I supposed to know that they wouldn't wait?" He asked me as I sat down across from him.

"What did you need anyways?" I asked him.

Benedict and I have never gotten along. Even as children, when I first met him after my cousins moved in across him and his family.

For some reason, he has always got on my nerves.

"And us being alone together, with no chaperone is going to deter any potential suitors." I didn't see the way how his jaw ticked at that.

"I won't tell anyone that we were left alone together. I will leave once I tell you why I came."

I looked outside as I heard the wind pick up and saw that there was even more snow.

"Even though you live across the way, I can not allow you to leave. It is much to dangerous. The snow was almost up to my waist. You can wait it out."

"Thank you. To answer your first question, I came here to put aside our differences for the holiday season."

"Did your mother put you up to this?" I knew how Violet was.

"That is besides the point. We are both adults, it is time we start acting like it." Benedict said, his voice sounding tense.

"Fine, I will agree to this truce. Maybe this will give me a chance to find myself a husband."

I grabbed a shawl and put it around my shoulders, as I am feeling a bit cold.

The wind was blowing furiously outside, and the fire was warm, but the cold seemed to be getting in.

"I have never stopped you from finding a husband." Benedict said, looking away.

"Really? I saw you at the Berring Ball. Any eligible man who signed my dance card, somehow ended up not being available. I was humiliated." I refused to cry in front of him as I stood up and walked to the window.

The room was silent as I watched the snow come down.

I could barely make out thr Bridgerton home across the way.

Maybe I should ask him to leave. See if he actually makes it home or hear about if he froze to death or not.

I heard his footsteps until he was beside me. Benedict was facing me as I continued to stare outside.

"You are right."

"Did the Benedict Bridgerton actually admit I was right?" My snapped at him as he huffed and cleared his throat.

"Before we kill one another, I must confess that I have always liked you."

"You must be joking?" I asked him as I turned to face him, and at that moment I realized how close he was standing to me.

"Why would I joke about this?" He seemed hurt, which tugged at my heart.

"From the day I met you, you have been nothing but rude to me. All I did was visit my cousins, and Penelope was so excited to introduce me to Eloise, but then you tripped me."

"That was by accident. " He defended.

"You could of helped me up, but you just stared at me."

"I didn't help you because I was enthralled by your beauty. That night, I drew you."

"Some way of showing you liked me Benedict. You picked on me each and every time I came here."

"I didn't know how to show you my feelings. I still don't, so I tell those men that you have been spoken for, because to me, you are."

"While you trope all over the ton, women and men falling over themselves. I am left alone, getting older each season until I will be considered no longer eligible." I am now poking his chest with my finger. The pokes getting harder and harder each time.

"Then marry me!" He exclaimed.

"Pardon me?" I looked him up and down.

"Marry me. I truly came over here, wanting to properly ask you to court."

"But Benedict, all we do is fight."

"We fight because we hide our true feelings for one another."

"I would like for us to properly court. No need for another fast wedding between our two families." I said.

"I agree. Now, may I please kiss you?"

I could only nod before he cupped my face and gently kissed my lips.

My first kiss with the man who has driven me insane since we were children.

The same man who I knew I loved, but always pushed my feelings aside, not wanting to be hurt by him.

As he and I kissed, the snow storm started to let up, only soft, fluffy snowflakes falling.

Lord Alfred Debling

[kristannafever]

Mountain Man - Six

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: MA WC: 4121

~Collab with @lukin08

A/N: Well, it's now complete! The remaining chapters will be posted semi-regularly. If you have already read the first five chapters of this story, please note that some very minor changes have been made (updated on here and AO3) to make the story flow a little better for what was written after. Those familiar with this story may want to re-read.

Chapter Index

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

Anna groaned when he left the bed.

He chuckled.  “Not a morning person, are you?”

“Actually, with my job, I am,” she mumbled as she rolled over to where Kristoff’s body had been, trying to stay as warm as possible.  How did that man manage to run so hot in such a cold place? 

“Not by choice, I take it?”

She sighed. “Definitely not.”

“Well, you can sleep in.”

Anna rolled her eyes under her closed lids.  As much as she wanted to, as much as she was sure Kristoff would just assume she would take him up on his offer, she wanted to prove herself useful while he was offering her his precious food and shelter for her stupidity in trying to fly ahead of what was surely one of the biggest storms in Alaska in more than a decade.

After keeping her eyes closed and listening to him change, she reluctantly crawled out of bed.

He was stirring the hot embers in the stove before adding some wood.  The dry logs caught immediately and Anna wandered nearer to the only heat source… well, aside from the heat source that was Kristoff.

He went about making them breakfast, quick cooking oats yet again, and Anna once again chipped some of the impossibly hard brown sugar into her meal trying to make it taste like anything other than what it was. 

They were half way through eating, Anna trying her best not to talk his ear off again because she knew damn well how much it annoyed him, when Kristoff casually looked out the window and froze, his eyes widening.  Anna looked and saw nothing at first.  Dawn was just barely breaking and it was very hard to make out anything outside.  Then a glimmer of the eyes drew her attention, and she finally saw the bull caribou at the edge of the clearing to Kristoff’s homestead.

Kristoff reached over to the lamp on the table and slowly turned it off.  The cabin dimmed into near darkness, the only light coming from the fire in the stove.  “Quiet,” he whispered, getting up silently and walking very carefully to where his rifle hung above the door. 

Anna kept her eyes between the caribou and Kristoff’s movements as he slowly brought down the rifle and carefully opened the door and slipped outside.  Anna realized how much he kept up on his home maintenance as the hinges on the door were silent.  She glanced back at the animal who was still pulling the bark off of a tree, straining to see exactly how he was lined up for the shot. 

Kristoff took very careful steps onto the porch and settled the rifle into position.  Anna could just make him out through the edge of the window.  He was talking deep breaths, clearly concentrating.  A gunshot rang out a moment later, startling her a little even though she was no stranger to rifle fire.  She’d gone hunting with her dad plenty of times.

The caribou collapsed to the ground and Anna knew right away that his shot had been dead on, meaning that the animal was killed instantly, basically eliminating any suffering.  She jumped up from her seat and jogged out the door to stand beside Kristoff.  He was taking deep calming breaths, the rifle loose in his hand, and staring at the downed animal. 

“Great shot, Kristoff,” she said after a long moment, wondering why he was just standing there.  

He nodded absentmindedly.   “I was getting really worried,” he said slowly, his voice quiet.  “I don’t have much meat left.  Every hunting day I’ve had lately has been bad.  The animals have been scarce this fall.” 

“Well, I’m glad you had some good fortune then.” 

He looked over and his eyes surprised her.   It was a mixture of a lot of things with an undeniable softness underneath.  “I have to get to this right away.  Do you mind cleaning up from breakfast?”

Anna nodded and offered her hand out for the gun.  “I can put that back for you.”

He smirked at her.  “Think you can reach?”

She guffawed at him.  “I can use the chair if I can’t, wise guy.”

His smile went all natural.  “Alright.  Thank you.”

“I’ll come out and help you after,” she said, turning to go back into the cabin. 

“Uh, it’s a kind of one-person job.  And it’s pretty messy.  I can handle it.  Thanks anyway.”

Anna tried not to let her face fall.  She hated sitting around.  “Anything else I can do then?”

“No, I think you’re good.  You can read a book or play cards.”

“Okay,” she said, failing to keep the dejection out of her tone, and turned into the cabin to clean up the dishes and then do nothing.

*****

“That was fast.”

He looked at Anna as he shut the door.  She was sitting at the table, playing solitaire.  He’d spent the last three hours dressing and butchering the caribou, taking care in his cuts, preserving certain things for his tanning.  The hide was going to make a suitable replacement for the ripped vinyl on the seat of his old snowmobile.  In the end there was not much that needed to be disposed of. 

“Not my first rodeo,” he replied to her comment. 

“So, what now?”

Kristoff walked over to the kitchen and opened a lower cupboard and pulled out a roll of butcher paper.  “Gotta wrap and store all the meat.”

“Can I help?” she asked, scrunching up her nose like she thought he was going to brush her off again.

He turned around and smiled to himself, not letting her see.  “Sure.”

He pulled out his meat grinder and started with the cuts suitable for ground meat, then wrapped everything else and labeled its date and cut with a black sharpie.  With Anna’s help it took him half the time.  She’d taken over the labeling and her penmanship was gorgeous compared to his messy scrawl.   After she passed him all packages to the cellar where be put them away. 

When all was said and done, Anna looked at her watch.  “Holy crap I swear it’s damn near two in the afternoon.  It’s not even eleven.”

Kristoff chuckled.  “Yeah, that tends to happen when you get an early start.”

“So, what now?”

“I should check my beaver traps today,” he muttered, feeling strangely uneasy about having to leave her out again.  It was clear that she did not like lousing around, which admittedly impressed the hell out of him.  “I, uh, only have one pair of snowshoes though.”

Her smile was so natural, it gave him pause.  “I’ve got my own in the plane, if you want some company?”

“Sure.”  He tried to smile back, only his face would no allow it.  His mind was suddenly contemplating his life’s choices again.

Kristoff followed her outside when she was wrapped up again in her winter gear.  He grabbed his snowshoes from their place on his porch, watching her through the tree line for a moment as she brushed the slow off the nose of her plane as she walked by.  She opened the door and disappeared into the snow-covered aircraft.

Kristoff sat on the steps of his porch to put on his snowshoes.  Anna appeared at his side a moment later, and they walked through the clearing to head up the river.

*****

“So, have you been trapping since you first came up here?”

Kristoff glanced down at her.  “Pretty much.  The first year I was too busy just getting everything in place so I could survive.  I studied up on it before I moved up here and started my second year.  I learned a lot as I went along too.”

“How many traps do you keep out?”

“Only enough to pay for my needs each year plus a little extra for anything unexpected.  I could put a lot more out, but it feels like a waste.”

“Take only what you need.”

“Exactly.”

Kristoff stopped and made a sharp turn down a path by the river.  Anna watched as he checked the trap, yielding nothing.  Frustration on his face was clear as he reset the line and started to move to the next one.  Anna followed him along the bank of the river.  It seemed odd that all his traps were coming up empty.  She tried to remember if there was anything different her father had done, but nothing stuck out.  Kristoff, for what she could surmise, set the traps exactly as her father would have.

“Are your traps always so bare?”  Anna asked.  She tried to stop herself from saying anything, and as usual, she never knew when to keep he mouth closed.  Anna closed her eyes bracing for a biting retort from Kristoff.  Instead, she heard him sigh.

“No,” he answered.  There was a solemn expression on Kristoff’s face.  He looked almost worried.  “The traps have been fairly successful.  That is since the end of summer… Now I’m not catching a thing and I don’t know why.  I keep going over it, trying to figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

Anna knew the firs were Kristoff’s livelihood.  They afforded him the critical supplies he needed each year and without them he could be in dire straights.  They kept moving, checking the traps with no improvements. 

There was something in the back of her mind nagging at her.  She couldn’t shake the thought that there was a remedy to Kristoff’s problem.  Another hour passed until Anna was struck with the revelation.  She stopped in her tracks as the lesson of her father played out in her head.  When she looked up to Kristoff, he was far ahead of her trudging to the next trap.

“Kristoff!” she called out. 

He stopped and turned back to her, the annoyance she was slowing him down clearly showing.

“I know what’s wrong!” Anna said through deep breaths.  She had practically ran to catch up with him through the deep snow.  Anna put her hands on her thighs, leaning over trying to catch her breath.  “Why did I think that was a good idea?”

She looked up again and saw Kristoff staring down at her.  Anna straightened up and proclaimed.  “The weather pattern this summer!”

Kristoff tilted his head.  “What?”

“Don’t you remember?  Everyone was talking about-   No.  No, you don’t.”  Anna threw her arms up in frustration then walked past Kristoff, pushing him out of her way as she looked for the next trap.  “Because that would require you watching the news, or reading about it, or talking to people.”  She turned back at Kristoff.  “Do you remember anything odd about this summer?”

“Not really.  It may have rained more than usual.”

“Yes!  But do remember anything else?  How it didn’t cool off?”

Kristoff thought for a moment.  “It did seem to stay warmer longer, now that you mention it.”

“Everyone was talking about it.  Some crazy weather pattern coming up from the Pacific.  It extended the summer.  It hadn’t happened in over twenty years.”

“So?”

“So, this is your problem!  I remember my dad talking about this when I was a girl.  Warm summers extend the feeding season and there isn’t as large of a need for food right now.  You have to adjust your traps to the calmer waters.  The animals aren’t in their usual spots.  They’ll take the bait if it’s in front of them, but they aren’t searching for food as much right now in the open water.”

Kristoff’s gaze shifted to the river.  “Of course,” he whispered.  “Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

He turned without a word and trudged back to the trap they had just passed.   After he yanked it from the water he surveyed the bank, looking for a good spot.

“I think we need to go back downstream a bit,” Anna said.

He nodded.  “I think you’re right.”

“You have any more up ahead?”

“Yeah, only one.  Let’s just reset the ones we passed and I’ll do that one another day.  It’s getting late anyway.”

He took off in purposeful strides before Anna could agree, slugging the heavy trap with him.  When they got to the next trap Anna offered to carry it.  He gave her a curious look before shaking his head quickly.  She followed him to the third trap and offered again.  He shrugged and handed it to her before he took off again.

Anna struggled with the weigh of the metal.  Kristoff was carrying two like they weighed nothing.  At least the split in the river was in sight now.  As soon as she had mentioned calmer waters, she knew that was where Kristoff was going to place the traps. 

She stopped beside Kristoff as his gaze swept the river.  “What do you think?”

Anna didn’t even realize he was asking her until he looked down at her in question.

“Oh, you mean me?” she laughed nervously.  “Sorry, I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t know you wanted…. I just thought you knew where you wanted to place them after I mentioned…”

“Where would your father have put them” he prodded gently.  “I’ve never had an issue like this before.   Honestly, I’m at a loss.”

Anna looked out at the movement of the river.  There was an area up ahead where a tree had come down.  “Over there,” she pointed to what she was looking at.  “That tree that’s still half on the bank?  There’s probably a lot of debris stuck under the water making a calm spot on the other side.”

Kristoff followed her gaze then turned back and nodded.  He trudged ahead and went down to the bank to set the trap.  When he came back up, he grabbed the two remaining traps.  “Where else?”

They walked a quarter of a mile further where Anna found another spot near a natural rock formation.  Kristoff set the trap and they set off the place the last one. 

Anna spotted another great spot almost at the end of the split where the river rejoined itself.  It was tricky to get to and Kristoff had to take off his snowshoes and wade into the river.  Anna was worried he would fall into the icy water but he was more sure-footed than she realized.  He scrambled back up the bank and put his snowshoes back on.

With that task accomplished, they started to head back to the cabin.  Anna was very glad he decided to leave the last trap for another time.   She was getting exhausted from trudging through the deep snow and Kristoff showed no signs of slowing.  She wondered again about what kind of stamina it must take to do this stuff all day long every damn day.

--

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[broodwoof]

thinking about solas in the hushed whispers questline. specifically what would've happened if he'd gone back in time with the inquisitor and dorian

first off: in that timeline, the veil has been "shattered", the fade and the waking world now existing without separation. it's essentially what he wants to do, his ultimate goal realized. and in game, he's appalled. he's desperate to help the inky change it back

if he went back with them, though, he'd retain his memory. and that means he'd have to live with it. and i just keep thinking about his reaction to it, and about how many different things he'd feel, how much he'd twist himself up about it

putting aside his immediate reaction within the timeline, once he's back and things are safe enough for him to actually think about what he experienced, i imagine he'd be excited. it's possible! it's actually possible! it didn't destroy the world, not in the absolute way he feared it might.

then, over time, doubt would creep in. did it destroy the world? obviously that future was horrible, but that was corypheus, or alexius, or... it couldn't be that the veil was gone. could it?

there were demons everywhere. but surely they'd been twisted by fear and grief and anger... he mourned the spirits who had been so distorted. yet if he drew the veil down, even if all survived, such feelings would still exist. would the spirits suffer his plan as they suffered under corypheus'?

i imagine him really distant. if he's with the inquisitor - or anyone else, for that matter - i think he'd pull away from them. not end the relationship, just keep his distance for the time being, lost in thought and worried, trying to puzzle this through on his own. he'd sleep more, wander the fade more, perhaps speak with his friends, the spirits he knows so well.

in that timeline, the breach expanded. perhaps that's the "wrong" way for the veil to be removed - perhaps he tries to blame the damage on that. however he's going to do it, whatever plan he has, it's clearly the right way. isn't it? well, at least he certainly knows what not to do now, and that information will aid him... won't it?

like, this man is already wracked with guilt and doubt. he wants to be proven wrong. but this is the only path forward he sees - the only way to correct his wrongs, yes, but he's not doing it to atone, he's doing it to repair the catastrophic damage he caused. but when he sees what happens, how it turns out, it's horrible. it's a waking nightmare.

he drew the veil. he changed the world. and it made it worse - it took magic away. yes, he stopped the evanuris, but he also destroyed arlathan, he altered the nature of the entire world.

originally, his fears would have been essentially 1) fail, and the world remains as it is, broken, or; 2) succeed, and the world as it is, those who inhabit it, are destroyed. now there's a third fear: succeed, and make the world worse for everyone and everything.

[theblackestnight-ffxiv]

[ffxivwrite2024] prompt 7: morsel

“You need to eat more.”

D’zinhla blinked heavily, pulling her thoughts out of wherever they had been, and focusing her attention on the girl sitting across from her. Ryne wore an expression of deepest concern, her hands clasped to her chest as she stared imploringly. Instantly D’zinhla was filled with guilt; how else could she respond to causing Ryne that level of worry? 

She glanced back down to the bowl in front of her. A dish of seasoned rice and seafood, with a smoky aroma that definitely appealed to her, and seafood was a sure way to make a meal she’d want to eat. Yet she’d only managed a few bites, and mostly seemed to have pushed the food around listlessly while her attention drifted away from the meal at hand.

She frowned, her ears flicking back. “You’re right, you’re right,” she murmured, lifting her spoon again. Rather than a hearty spoonful, she scooped up a small amount, mostly rice with a bit of clam meat, and drew it up to her mouth with a strange reluctance. The act of actually placing the food into her mouth took a level of concentration she was both startled and wearied by, and regardless of the fact that clam meat was chewy by default, she felt like it shouldn’t need this much effort to masticate. By the time she swallowed, she felt as if she had just finished a practice round with her greatsword–and that was just one half-spoonful.

Ryne drew in her breath, and with effort D’zinhla flickered her eyes back to her. “It’s hard to eat, isn’t it?” the girl asked.

Nodding was hard, but so was speaking, so she just moved her head a few times, looking back down at her plate. It shouldn’t be this hard.

“You’re not actively being poisoned by the light anymore,” Ryne said, and she twitched an ear toward her to indicate she was listening. “I can See it, your soul is holding steady, it’s even getting better than it was. So it has to be lingering effects of all the light you were carrying.”

“Loss of appetite was one of the first signs,” Alisaie offered quietly, from somewhere off to her right. “Loss of appetite, lethargy, leaden responses to stimuli… Honestly, one of the problems was how well those matched up with a lot of the ways the body reacts to the onset of illness. But we know she’s not ill, and it’s not poisoning her now.”

“So it’s the effects it left behind, as Ryne said.” That was Y’shtola’s voice, with that faraway sound when she was turning over a problem in her mind. “Rather unpleasant ones, if it’s this much effort to get food down.”

With a slight jerk, she realized she’d still only managed that half spoonful. With a frown of concentration, she focused hard, thinking through the steps needed to draw food back to her mouth and ingest it, and then thought it through again, when the first time her body seemed to accept just thinking about it as sufficient enough. There was a little more on the spoon this time, with a bit of shrimp. The rice was deeply flavorful, and the shrimp as good as any she’d had before, but after she’d swallowed, the thought of repeating the process made her feel deeply wearied.

“Keep at it,” Ryne said softly, encouragingly, from across the table. D’zinhla couldn’t risk sparing her a glance in acknowledgement, but she did smile thinly, her ears perked toward the girl.

“I suppose we’re lucky, in terms of side effects,” Alisaie was saying.

Y’shtola answered, sounding thoughtful. “On one hand, yes, I’d agree. Certainly better than what could have been. She’s intact and in command of her faculties, and whatever transformation began has been undone. Well, aside from the bleaching.”

D’zinhla made a face, and it wasn’t at the food. The bleaching still made her deeply uncomfortable. By the time she’d absorbed the aether of the final lightwarden, she had been growing steadily lighter in color, most markedly in her hair, and after that terrible moment when the light first threatened to break free, she had come to with her hair as white as alabaster, with her skin nearly a match (because her blood had turned to the white ichor of a sin-eater). Now, there was a healthy pink tone in her skin again (which was still lighter than she remembered), but her hair remained white, and her eyes were markedly paler as well, but at least still noticeably green. The transformation had been undone before its effects could be made more obvious than that, but she felt that it was unsettlingly obvious enough. Even now in the Crystarium she sensed the looks and lingering glances. No one seemed afraid of her, no one seemed to think her transformation was merely held in abeyance, but she felt their pity, and heard their whispered words about how the Warrior of Darkness had given up her own shadows to bring back the night.

Hardly. That makes it sound like a choice, came a soft response in her mind, feeling like the brush of dark velvet against her. 

The corner of her mouth twitched. Her smile might be barely perceptible, but the recipient would feel it all the same. In truth, I held my shadows even closer. The other part of her, the shadow within her, had been instrumental in helping her make it when the transformation was threatening, a presence of darkness that resisted the light’s efforts to burn it away. 

There was a strange flicker in response, something like a small intake of breath, before her shadow responded. So you did. But enough of that. They’re trying to speak to you again.

Her shadow retreated, and she fought to draw her awareness outward once more. “-personal aether still so strained. It’s going to take more time than this to recover, I fear.” She flicked her ears. Y’shtola.

“All the more reason that you need to eat, D’zinhla!” and the imploring voice was Ryne again. She forced herself to look up this time, to make eye contact with the girl, and she halfway regretted it when she saw just how worried she was. “Is there something else we should get you instead?”

“Favorite foods were always better, when we could manage it,” Alisaie said softly. “And I’ve never known her to turn down seafood.”

“I just thought, maybe soup? Something easier to get down, maybe less chewing?”

“It’s okay,” D’zinhla forced herself to say. “I’ll… I’ll manage some more. Don’t trouble yourselves.”

She heard the swish of a tail. “As if it’s any trouble to fetch a bowl of soup. But if you insist–and, if you’re actually able to finish some more of your dish,” Y’shtola said, in the tones of a gently scolding parent.

She had to smile. “Alright. I’ll do my best.” And she returned to the most difficult challenge to face her since triumphing over the Ascian Emet-Selch: finishing her plate.

[walnutsxblacklicorice]

Loneliness as Ramona's driving motivation

Ramona Royale speaks a lot about revenge, like her hatred for the Countess is the driving factor for her return to the hotel.

She is also an unreliable narrator. I think the truth lies both in the flashback scenes and in side comments she makes, rather than her actual narration of why Elizabeth killed her boyfriend and how that is the reason she now wants revenge over 20 years later. The truth most deeply lies within her narration of what happened with her dad.

"You know the only thing worse than heartbreak? Loneliness. Knowing that it's never going to end.

So, in my despair, I went to the only place in the world where I knew for sure there were people who loved me."

Going back to the hotel for revenge is the story that Ramona told both herself and Donovan. I think what really drew her back is loneliness.

When she cheated on Elizabeth and Elizabeth "tossed her aside" after killing her man, it's safe to assume Ramona was somewhat banished from the hotel. At least, it was no longer a place she felt she could return to, given that Elizabeth was there and owned it.

But all her friends who hadn't died in the AIDS epidemic were at the hotel so now she was all alone. So she returned to her parents' place and lived there until her dad died presumably around 2015. She explained how she'd been stuck in amber with him, her world revolved around taking care of him so she hardly took notice of how times were changing.

By the time her dad died she was confronted with a world foreign to her. The internet had taken over and her once so successful career was reduced to free movies on Hulu. She had nobody left to turn to and now not even her surroundings were familiar anymore.

The hotel was the only place where she still knew people. But she also knew she wasn't welcome there. If she just showed up, chances were Elizabeth would have her thrown out, maybe Liz had turned against her out of loyalty to Elizabeth, too. She had to find new allies to get in. And she had to get rid of the person who could possibly deny her.

"It's time for me to rise and her to fall."

Even though she tells Elizabeth that she'd never been one to plan, she comes up with an elaborate strategy to return to the one place closest to what she can call home. She finds out who Elizabeth had been dating and where to find him and tries to get him to help her.

Eventually, once she's finally in Elizabeth's presence, she realizes not only is Elizabeth remorseful about what happened, Ramona still has feelings for her, too. She can't kill her and when Elizabeth kisses her, she gladly accepts more.

All she deep down wanted was to feel loved again. And as soon as she stepped into the penthouse Elizabeth gave her what she always did, adoration. The song I Wanna Be Adored is playing in the background. Angela, too, has said that this is one of the ways in which Elizabeth fulfills Ramona: with adoration.

If Ramona had only come to the hotel for revenge, she would have been satisfied and left once Elizabeth got killed. But she didn't.

Nearly every scene we see between 2015-2022, she is present in the hotel. She is reunited with Liz, found another friend in Iris, Will includes her in his fashion shows despite her killing him. And in my mind, with her spending all that time there, she has gotten back with Elizabeth, too. At the very least, Elizabeth's ghost is there to keep her company and watch over her.

She has found love and companionship at the hotel again, just like she'd deep down yearned for. And now she spends all her time there instead of building a new life away from it, living in her big gorgeous house. Because the Hotel Cortez is home. And so are its people. It's a safe haven for vampires and it hasn't changed as radically as the outside world has.

Elizabeth had created herself a time capsule within the hotel and that is what ended up making Ramona feel safe and comforted there, too. There was still a piece left from the world she once knew and thrived in. And it didn't turn her away like she'd feared.

[palaeophilist]

another October.

It is another October. I tidied the kitchen before I turned on the fake fireplace and lit my pumpkin spice crackly candle that bothers AG so much (both the crackle and the scent, I think).

I knew I would sit down and try to say a thing or two about the world lately. I don't often "speak out loud," but I realized that it's a bit essential because talking to myself is boring. It's full of details. Too many details. When I speak here, I think the knowledge that anyone could read it makes me hesitate to say it all, or at least, say it all directly, and that makes everything a tiny bit more interesting.

Not necessarily to you, the unknown and likely imaginary reader, but to me, who is definitely reading this right now as I type word after word.

The rhythms of my life lately have bored me quite a lot, but I'm also not sure how to break out of them. I asked my students for a warm up last week, "What have you been paying attention to? What would you like to be paying attention to?" and I had been all prepared to talk about my recent obsession with Zillow. I check Zillow probably five times a day for the perfect house, which I did actually find once, except that it wasn't perfect because it came with only a 12 month lease and no opportunities to extend, which made it not perfect.

We've looked at places nearby with cracked tiles and too small living rooms, with crooked foundation and yards full of other people's leftover junk. We've looked at places further away with shared lawn which required tables or chairs to be moved inside after use, weirdly, and which absolutely overestimated available square footage. We've looked at places with black mold in the closets that stank of eternal cigarette smoke, and places which were too small to fit either our couch or our tiny kitchen dining table. Just today, we looked at two places, one of which had three tiny bedrooms and one drawer that couldn't open because the stove was too big, and one that smelled of mildew and, although renovated two years ago, had floors with chipping tiles and wood floors that were dirty and in need of refinishing.

And all of these places, aside from one, which felt like walking into a hoarder house, complete with pet filth on a rug which I stepped in a little, were still more expensive that my little back house, which comes with 360 views of the city, great for admiring dawn, dusk, and fireworks, and where all my things have a home, and where my couch fits just right, even if it's the only thing that fits in the tiny living room. In spite of the fruitless searching, I still search, every day, multiple times, and in the end, I think I just need to have faith that we're going to find something great, and even if we don't, where we are isn't half bad.

It's really sad that the neighbors moved, though. CS is still in the habit of asking if Sebby will be home, and then as if waking from a dream, remembering that Sebby already moved and he's not home to play. After they started sleeping at the new house last week, I took Calvin to see where they live now, and he asked if he could walk there by himself, and I said no, and he said, then it's not close, and honestly, he's not wrong. It's less than a mile, but would require him to cross five streets, and he still needs reminders to look both ways.

It was really great to have a built in best neighbor friend for all this time. We've lived here now for almost three years, and they became fast friends when they were about three & a half, and it was a friendship composed of freedom and candy. They spent hours going up and down, throwing water balloons, roasting smores, climbing fences, sneaking out front, riding scooters to the park, making lemonade, watching shows, bumming meals, and painting nails. They drew pictures, played pretend. They each became part of the family. I know which foods Sebby will eat, and how he likes his toast. I wish things didn't have to change, but they do, and it makes space for new things to grow, but the part before the next thing gets grown is really lonely and sad.

We had one last hurrah together at California Adventure last weekend. The boys had their first sleepover. Calvin wished the sleeping over part included more sleeping, because he was exhausted from three nights of staying up too late. We wore those boys out on rides and walking all over the event, which didn't even start until 6. I am still recovering, personally.

This season is also characterized by trying to sneak in exercise, but being tired. Being so tired. Wishing I could find a little more energy to pay better attention to everything going on around me. It just takes a tiny bit of noticing to turn everything into gold, but there's been so much living that I don't have much space outside of my TikTok scrolling and news perusing, and of course, my Zillowing to see if something amazing has come through that was meant to be.

Lately, I've also taken to experiencing a deep grief about the loss of PY in my life. I never expected him to disappear so completely. We had a bizarre interaction at his birthday last year, and then he started seeing his current girlfriend, and really, since the introduction of EB, he's been putting more and more distance between us. I think he'd like to excise me entirely if it were possibly, but since it's not, the least he can do is erase my profile from Amazon and get a new phone plan. We finally got rid of the engagement house, as well. Each of these things feels like a paper cut, sharp and unexpected, with a sting that lingers, but with an invisible wound. It's easy to look back on the early years and remember the bits that made it fun and light and interesting. Even then, I remember the stay/go columns, and the way I felt when I realized that being with him would mean that I never felt fully listened to, seen, or heard. I remember trying so desperately to create a formula that could at least approximate the sort of ways that I needed to be held in his attention, but we were always ships passing in the night. We had enough admiration for one another, and loyalty, to stay together for a long time, but that relationship had to complete with planting roots in different places, making room for us to grow. I suppose I'm doomed or destined to remember this in different waves of grief as the seasons pass. It is the sad that I keep, the feeling that I could've tried differently or harder, that we could've kept things in tact, but then we wouldn't be us, and everything that's growing from here would never have come to pass.

Living requires so much faith in all that has not yet happened, and it's hard to believe, but I do believe that the best is yet to come, and that what we have, the life that takes up so much time living, is pretty decent, with all those dawns and dusks and fireworks.

[wishfulina]

Psssst I would be interested in seeing you info dump about your original stuff 👀

Sorry this took a minute I had two long sleeps back to back. You got my hands folded together like a business deal. Because I’m about to say a whole presentation. I do have a lot of original works I do but the one I have been working on recently is called: How Romantic.

I took a lot of inspiration from Isekai stories. And it’s basically playing upon my love for romance novels. And kind of making fun of my love for romance novels. But under all the layers of my trademark sarcasm and jokes, it’s about being genuine about yourself and feelings. And how sometimes people should be allowed to have their cake and eat it too sometimes.

Here is my Plot Summary:

Cressida Rosewood could be described as disturbed when she wakes up in her least favorite book Kissed then Crowned. After screwing up her first night so royally, she is determined to keep things on script as best she can so she can go home. As time goes on, she sees that she’s not the only thing deviating from the book. With everything going on, she has to ask herself: can she keep things from changing too much or are some stories worth re-writing?

Here are the main characters.

Cressida Rosewood:

The protagonist of How Romantic. A Marketing Major who is on the brink of dropping out of school. She feels she’s lost all control in her life. Her only solace is her love of romance novels. She is a generally charming and passionate person, however her whimsical nature can cause her to come off as aloof. The whimsy is what tends to get her in trouble.

I draw her the most. Mostly because she’s the most fun to draw in my opinion. I constantly change her hairstyle because as a black woman I change my hair all the time. Since she ends up being a rich woman in high society, I think she would change her hair very often. A lot of wigs and elaborate hairstyles both natural and not. Think kind of like Queen Charlotte in Bridgerton. (Though the go to is actually this long cornrow style I’ll be showing off later.)

Even though in the description I mention a lot of different traits about her. One that I didn’t mention though it is true is that she is very kind. The thing that keeps causing conflict is that she is very kind and sometimes adhering to the script is to allow cruelty which is a good struggle for her to have.

Prince Roman:

Originally a very arrogant and manipulative love interest in the book Kissed then Crowned. Used to getting his way, Prince Roman found himself living a very listless and unmeaningful life. But because it's comfortable, he’s terrified of taking on real responsibility. Though he puts on the confidence of someone who never loses, it's because there is such little opposition. But as it turns out, he actually likes a little challenge. Perhaps he likes it more than he thought.

As I was working on this I realize Cress is the only one I draw by herself. So, I drew this quick portrait of thee prince.

All that aside, he’s Cress’s least favorite character. But somehow he has become my favorite to write. The trope “guy who sucks changes due to the power of love” is annoying which is why I had to add it. Kinda. His whole character arc is about him changing himself but the catalyst being the main character. (Mr. Darcy Style) He went from like “the guy who’s the worst” to silly goofy guy. I noticed that sometimes “love interests who supposedly become better people due to the main character” sort of stay the same and they just gaslight you into thinking they are better people. He is that but in this new version he actually does change.

Justine Hart:

The heroine of Kissed then Crowned. A countess who has had a very rough life after her mother’s death. She is kind hearted and sweet but overall a naive pushover. She is unsure on how to stand up for what she wants or even find out what that is. However, she has the potential to be someone who is truly happy.

I didn’t feel like drawing another portrait so here’s a wip of something I am drawing with her in it.

As much as I like spunky girls as main characters. I also like the soft hearted protagonist. She’s supposed to be one of the Cinderella-esque main characters who are on a few steps from Disney princess. I think that there’s actually nothing wrong with these types of characters. Justine was actually considered a highlight to Cress from the book she’s from.

There are like a bunch more important characters such as Prince Damian, the brother of Prince Roman who is Cress’s actual favorite character, Madison who is Cress’s childhood best friend who had also ended up in the aforementioned novel. But these three are the Most Important Ones.

In writing this I actually had to make two outlines. One for the book that the story is set in Kissed then Crown, and also the actual story I’m writing How Romantic.

I don’t want to make this post to long so I’ll just leave you with the first art piece I’ve ever made for the story.

[julianrchandlerx]

It felt often times like Julian Chandler had been lost at sea. Caught by a riptide and dragged out into the far depths, nothing but sky and water for miles and miles. A daunting metaphor for a boy who was scared of open water, but it often felt adequate for the complicatedness and insecure moments of adulthood. Jules had a tendency to get wrapped up in things — pursuits, relationships, emotions. He’d get so wrapped up in things, he’d often lose himself. And when he suddenly realized how far out the current took him, there was often only one thing to anchor him and bring him back to shore: Art. The grand dream. The thing he always aspired to and yet could never quite reach. In all his experiences when he reached a moment of struggle, this was the thing to center him. Aside from a beautiful redhead who he tried not to burden with his insecurities and fears, of course. Art was vital to his being, like his blood was actually made of watercolor and ink.

Figure drawing class was always a good place to start. Classes in general were good — like all skills, art needed to be worked on and practiced diligently, in order to keep cultivating and growing. Julian was a landscape artist, but he loved drawing people as much as he enjoyed a gorgeous nature scene. And so a figure drawing class was a great chance to break out the tools and get to work. Finding a spot in the circle of artists waiting on their model, he offered a bright smile to a vaguely familiar face who found herself next to him. Around town she was known as the Fae Queen, which Julian thought was kind of metal. Most of the titles were pretty cool — Alpha, but not in an “alpha male” incel way, was baller, Supreme made him hungry for pizza but was pretty sweet, but Queen? That was straight up royalty, and a great band, so he had some level of respect for her. And maybe needed to bite his tongue from making an is this the real life or is this just fantasy, or is the fae queen sitting next to me joke. Half because it was lame, and half because it maybe sounded flirty and he was a super taken guy. He’d have to pass it on to the next hopeless nut who wanted to get in with her majesty the Queen. And by impeccable timing, it seemed there was a nut with some interest.

Or two nuts.

When the model had revealed himself — like, literally — Julian fought his expression from twisting in reaction. Amusement? Fear? Shock? He wasn’t sure what he felt at the geriatric cowboy in nothing but a hat and boots choosing his spot at the center of the artists, the spurs on his boots clicking as he sauntered by the stool at the center… Only to lift one leg upon it, spreading himself out. And standing directly in front of Jules and Aiyla. Julian wanted to sink behind his sketchbook, but he was rather tall and broad, and couldn’t hide. Instead he just had to make eye contact with Saggy John Wayne and the one eyed snake. “That’s a really nice way to put it,” he whispered back to her words, pressing his pencil to the page to quickly draw the man before them. The faster he drew, the faster time would go by. And then he could go home, show Briar, and they could laugh about it. And—

“Say, little lady, you got a name? ‘Cuz I just think yer the purttiest thing I ever laid my eye’ on.” For a flash of a second, Julian came so close to saying his own name, not realizing that the comically fake accented voice was not being directed at him… but at the young woman beside him. Blinking, he turned his head to look over at Aiyla, who was being addressed by the old naked man before them. His jaw nearly dropped. Was this guy serious? Was he seriously about to do this? It was then Julian made another realization — Aiyla was the only girl there. And that’s why he was so spread eagle there in front of them. Jules didn’t know whether to feel horrible for her or to find the shameless nature of the man admirable. That’s when he noticed the guy cocking a brow at him. “This here big feller yer mister? He seems real jealous,” the man said with a wiggle of his hips to emphasize the last word. Jules did not hide his grossed out expression this time.

On the corner of his paper, Julian swiftly scribbled a note, tilting his sketchbook enough for Aiyla to see as he subtly turned towards her. Draw a check mark on the corner of your page if you want me to be the liar and say we’re dating. He didn’t know a whole ton about his fellow supernaturals but he’d learned things here and there, one of which being the fact that Faeries could not lie. She’d have to be so clever to get around things, but Julian could straight up lie if she needed him to. Mentally he apologized to Briar for the potential fake boyfriend scenario he was walking into, eyes shifting to her page to see if she would doodle in that check mark and give him the okay to step in and intervene.

“If he ain’t, I know where we can get a fine cup o’ joe after this. Show me how well you drew me and my assets,” the cowboy chuckled, hands on his hips as he leaned back a bit on his boots. They had to have a flirty shameless old guy model today, didn’t they?

Julian & Aiyla - figure drawing class @julianrchandlerx

Between the ebbs and flows of time, Aiyla had seldom had a moment to herself to do one of the hobbies she had collected over the years like pebbles of a person she could have been if she wasn't this. If life hadn't had other plans, pushed her towards another path that oftentimes felt predetermined for her despite her best efforts to deny fate; home was home, and in every life she had ever had, something pulled her here, like magic to leylines, moths to the moon or flames depending on how she looked at it; she was always destined to be here. Banshee Queen.

She had her rebellions, and she collected tokens of who she wanted to be: watercolor paints made from things around the house for the resourceful mountain woman version of her, winged specimens of ethically sourced insects she had collected as a girl, the first a butterfly she had hit by mistake with her tennis racket. Rather than leaving it out to be picked apart, she laid it in satin and carefully displayed it. A pebble belonging to the wealthy French girl she was, full of hope and curiosities. Her life was littered with hobbies like these, baking, because she once wanted to own a bakery. Aiyla dreamed of the smell of vanilla and café au lait, a dream she shared once with Defne. Before, she could no longer pretend that she was human. Before, the pull of this life demanded her physical form.

Sometimes, now, it felt like all she had were stolen moments for herself, woven into the fabric of responsibility. This day was one of her stolen moments, a clean piece of paper, the tools she would need at her fingertips, and a figure model, nearly as naked as the day he was born, wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots, sauntering into the room of sketch artists looking to learn the human form. Stopping facing nearest herself and a man she had known in passing as Julian Chandler, the naked cowboy tipped his face to her in a grin as he set his leg up on the stool, leaving himself on full, unabashed display. Aiyla furrowed a brow, tilting her head towards Julian, cutting a curious glance his way before gripping her pencil, "It's a choice," she whispered low enough she knew only he would hear before dutifully setting to work, trying not to think too hard about the absurdity of what she was putting to paper; this was a token of the life she would have had if she were only an artists, nothing more.

[mystic-shadows42]

Overdue

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! reader

Word Count: 971

Your mind was wandering, riddled with questions.

Is leaving the right choice? Was Clark aware yet? What was he doing? Would he give you the space you needed? Will things get better?

The car began to shake as an impending sound began reverberating loudly as it drew closer. Then all at once, the sound stopped and you had to pump the breaks once you saw Clark land just a few yards ahead.

Your heart began to race whether in anticipation or the fact he actually looked for you.

He began to walk towards the car with a serious look. You were surprised by just how quickly he had realized you were gone. As of late, things had been a bit strained and tense for the both of you.

Clark was always gone and you were always left all alone.

“You need space? Leaving for a week?” He re-iterated from the letter you left. “Why are you trying to leave?”

“You really have to ask?” 

It appalled you just how oblivious he was to your relationship. He was sharp when it came to everything else but he always turned a blind eye whenever he came home.

“Get out of the car.” You narrowed your brows at him, not liking the way he was speaking to you. The engine was still running and now that there was a sudden silence between you both it was apparent that was the only sound he was focusing on. Clark closed his eyes for a few seconds taking a deep breath before opening his eyes back up. “Can you please get out of the car?”

You tapped your fingers against the steering wheel knowing there was no other way out of this. He did deserve an explanation after just having up and left. You were just so upset that you simply acted.

After much deliberation, you took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car.

He took pause for a moment recalling your last question.

“Is this about Lois?” He asked cocking his head while narrowing his brows. The Lois in question was the beautiful red-headed reporter that knew of his identity. They always kept close in contact especially since Clark started working there.

They were just friends but the fact that they had a connection and she wasn’t in a relationship at the moment, made you defensive.

“It��s not just that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Clark,” you sighed. “You’re never here in the moment. You’re always gone. For crying out loud we live together and I’m lucky enough if I even see you once a week.”

He shook his head, disagreeing.

“I didn’t think we were having any problems. It’s just that the people need me.”

You exhaled loudly. It simply wasn’t fair. You loved Clark with all your heart and all that he does, but the problem was, he wasn’t treating this like a relationship.

“I need you too.” You felt like complete shit for wanting more of his attention knowing that he was indeed saving lives. You just wished he can see it from your point of view. “You do so much but you also need to set time for yourself. You need to live your life too.”

He took a step closer leaving only an inch of space between you both. He brushed back a piece of your stray hair blowing from the wind then placed his palm against your cheek.

“I love you. I know I don’t say it enough or show it the way you want me to and for that, I’m sorry. You’re my girlfriend and I never want you to feel that you have to leave in order to figure things out. I’m here even when it seems that I’m not.”

You leaned into his touch already feeling better than you have in a while. This conversation was long overdue, but Clark’s hectic schedule and postponing this talk brought out the worst in you.

“You have to make the effort Clark. I’m not saying to cease saving the world but to set aside some time for us.”

You leaned your head against his chest just wanting to feel him. It had been so long since you both embraced each other. He leaned forward looking down at you.

“Anything. All I need is for you to talk to me.”

“I’m glad it at least got your attention,” you cracked a smile trying to break the ice.

He cracked a small smile before grasping your hands in his. “You scared me when I came home to an empty house. I thought the worst when I read your letter. It made me realize how you must’ve felt,” he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I think you should still take time to yourself but just know that I’ll be checking in.”

You squeezed his hands feeling this is what’s best. Some time apart in order for things to be better. “Maybe I was overreacting by leaving out of the blue when I should’ve just talked to you.”

Clark shook his head. “You were upset and I hadn’t come home. Just promise that wherever you go to be safe then when you’re finally ready to come home I’ll make a better effort to be the boyfriend you deserve.”

You looked into his blue eyes and nodded. That sounded good.

He pecked your lips and then kissed you properly letting the kiss linger. You parted your lips and smiled when he playfully pulled on the bottom of your lip. 

This was a little blip in your relationship but hopefully the last, now working towards a better working one. You knew your love for Clark will never die out just as he can never really let you go. At least you know that everything is lining up for the better.