#but the reason i haven't been working on song fics is this has been taking up my brain space

[flingpoly]

i never intended to make an ameyume high school au, originally i was just going to use the setting for a one-shot as a shoujo rei song fic, but i accidentally started world building and really enjoyed exploring them as younger/in a transitional period, so it ended up 8 chapters long. so hey here's chapter 1 if anyone is interested :-)

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[the-teufort-nine]

My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

*

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

//

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

[yeosangs-horizon]

Silhouette (Wooyoung x neighbor!Reader)

Genre: Neighbors -> Lovers | Fluff & Smut Word Count: 4.2k Member: Wooyoung | Group: Ateez Warnings: smut, fem!reader Author's Note: Oops I haven't posted an Ateez fic in ages, hi!! I've had this one cookin in the drafts for a year and never felt like it was good enough to post till now, I hope you enjoy. I've had intense Ateez brain rot recently again. I've also been enjoying writing longer fics with more plot/lore so expect more of that :^)

Your neighbor was quite peculiar, always turning up his music just before your bedtime and going out wearing a black face mask and a hat that shielded his identity. You had never confronted him before, the closest you got was thumping on the wall that connected your room to his when he was playing his music too loud and he seemed to get the hint. You were getting ready to take the trash out when you heard the music playing again, it was the third day in a row and you had an early day at work the next day. 

Grumbling to yourself, you recounted the tasks you had to complete by the end of the work day, knowing that you had to finish your portion of editing a music video for the entertainment company that you worked with. You opened the front door, trash in hand as you strolled by your boisterous neighbor’s apartment. 

You glanced in, curious as to what he was doing with music blasting at such late hours. You saw a tall silhouette moving to the rhythm in sharp and fluid motions. You stood there for perhaps a bit too long, gazing at the mesmerizing motions of your neighbor. 

Noticing that he turned his head and the music had stopped, it snapped you out of your trance as you saw the figure come up to the window that you were staring at. You saw a trace of his red locks before you dipped and ran down to the dumpster on the first floor, feeling embarrassed that you were seen. The thought of you confronting him to turn his music down went out the door after the events that night. 

The next couple nights were quiet, you were accustomed to the muffled rock songs that were playing by this point that you found the silence a bit lonely. You had forgotten your phone charger in your car so you forced yourself to grab your keys and make a quick trip to the parking lot to grab your charger. 

A gust of wind found itself blowing past your face as you huddled to yourself, but not before turning your head to your neighbor’s window and seeing the silhouettes again, this time of two figures standing in the middle of the living room. You turned your gaze away before making your way down to the parking lot as you heard the door to your neighbor’s flat open. You searched around in your car and snatched your charger before walking back up the stairs. 

“Good practice today San, get back safe!” you heard the voice call out. 

“Thanks Woo, get some rest!” the other man’s voice rung out. You briefly made eye contact with the man with a duffel bag in hand as you made your way up the stairs. 

You found yourself gazing at your neighbor, the one with red locks, the silhouette you were staring at a couple nights ago. 

“Oh hey there! You’re my next door neighbor right? Sorry if my music has been bothering you, I’m Wooyoung!” he beamed, holding his hand out. You were taken aback by his forwardness.

“Don’t worry about it. You always manage to turn it down by the time I go to sleep for some reason, so I didn’t bother confronting you,” you spoke out, telling him your name whilst taking his hand in a firm shake. 

“Sorry for uh, staring at you through the window the other night,” you admitted. 

“Ah that was you? I got worried it was some stalker that got a hold of my address…” 

“Does that happen often?” you inquired, wondering more about your mysterious neighbor. Perhaps that would be why he always went out shielding his identity. 

“You could say so, with my profession,” he vaguely hinted. 

“You’re a dancer or choreographer or something of the sort? You looked… really good from that night,” you blurted out, realizing you may have been a little too forward you took a step back. He chuckled and shrugged.

“You could say that. Sorry if I haven’t been too welcoming, I know I moved here a month ago but never got a chance to introduce myself.” 

You felt a bit bad for misjudging a nice character just because he blasted music in the evenings. 

“No worries! I also dance a bit in my spare time but I’m nowhere near as good as you,” you continued. A gust of wind in that moment made you shiver a bit, wanting to get inside, but also wanting to continue to talk to your neighbor. 

“I’d love to see sometime. Ah also let me get your number, it’s always good to have that connection with the people you live closest with!” Wooyoung beamed.

With shaky hands you typed in your number in his phone. “Have a good night Wooyoung!” you called out as you slipped back inside your place. 

Not only was your neighbor mysterious, he was also very attractive and looked somewhat familiar, but you couldn’t place your tongue on it. Wanting to let lose a bit, you grabbed your speakers and picked your favourite song to dance to, ‘Snapping’ by Chung Ha. 

You had memorized the choreo and the conversation you just had with Wooyoung had reminded you that you wanted to practice on your dances again as some of your girlfriends had mentioned that they wanted to get a dance cover group together. You got into the groove of things, moving your body to the beat as you heard a notification on your phone. 

‘Snapping, good song choice, it’s Wooyoung btw, not some weird stalker lol.’ 

You laughed to yourself for a second before turning the volume down, not wanting it to be your turn to be the asshole of a neighbor.

It was a stressful day at work as the deadline to the music video you were tasked with working on was coming to a close. After you would have somewhat of a break and then be put on another project with the cycle repeating itself over and over again. Your thoughts trailed back to your neighbor, as you stared at the music video you were working on. 

You were lucky enough to work at a well known entertainment company, being able to stare at the talented idols that your company manages was a highlight to your day. Your inspiration and love for dancing also came from them. 

You tilted your head, idol… was Wooyoung a part of a group or an upcoming soloist? You kept up with older groups so you had no idea about the newer generation of idols. You shook the thought of your head, perhaps you could ask him later on down the line. Although you didn’t have any direct line of communication with the idols your company manages, you could imagine how invasive fans and even strangers could get about their profession. 

It had been about a month or so since your run in with Wooyoung. The two of you had been texting occasionally and making small talk when you saw him in the hallways, needless to say you grew quite fond of his presence within that time. You found yourself anticipating when the next time you’d see hoping to get any excuse to talk to him when you’d step outside. 

You found that other than dancing, you had other common interests with him such as tending to plants or cooking and experimenting with recipes. You’d sometimes get a whiff of his cooking when you’d crack open the window for some fresh air in the morning. 

Most of your conversations were initiated by him texting you, ‘hey did you hear that noise?’ or ‘was that you hitting the wall?’ He was silly to say the least and you were a little surprised to see him standing in front of your door when you came home from work that day. 

“I texted you but you didn’t respond, but I wanted to see if you wanted some cupcakes. It was one of my member-- I mean coworker’s birthdays at my company and we had a lot of extras!” He asked cheerfully, holding out a plate of sweets in front of him. 

“That’s very sweet of you Wooyoung, sure!” You replied, exhausted from a day’s worth of editing and wanting a snack anyway. 

“Wait, if you’re not busy, you could come in?” he suggested. 

Why not? You shrugged and turned towards him, “I’m down, anything to get my mind off of this deadline at work.” You slipped your shoes off, following him into his couch and coffee table. 

The layout was the same as yours, but the place looked minimalistic and very modest. You turned your head and gazed at the speakers that were the culprit of the noise that you had once complained about. 

“Oh yeah, my speakers have been busted so that’s why it’s probably been quiet for you,” he chuckled. 

“Damn, sorry about your speakers,” you apologetically replied. 

“It’s cool, I’ve been using my phone for music but don’t worry, more speakers are coming in soon,” he grinned. You took a bite of the cupcake Wooyoung had offered you and smiled into the sweetness. 

“Thanks for these by the way,” you mumbled through your bite. He rested his hand on his cheek, staring at you sweetly. 

“I saw you dancing the other night too, you were pretty good,” he mused. You almost choked on the cupcake. 

“I didn’t watch on purpose, you didn’t close your curtains but I’d know that choreo from anywhere, it was Blackpink’s Kill This Love right?” 

You nodded, feeling a bit flustered from being exposed like that. “Yeah um, some of my friends and I wanted to get a cover group together sometime so I was just practicing,” you sheepishly replied. 

“Y’know the guy you walked passed that night that we started talking? He’s my main dance buddy, we practice and hype each other up all the time. If you need anybody at a hand’s reach, I’m here,” he grinned. 

He was a professional and he was offering you a chance to learn from him? 

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer sometime,” you replied back, letting your gaze meet his. 

This was the first time you had the chance to stare at his face without it being awkward. His dimples are adorable, you thought, letting yourself admire his features. A sudden hand on your face pulled you out from your trance as you felt Wooyoung’s finger slide across the corner of your lip.

“Sorry you had frosting there,” he mumbled, removing his hand from your cheek, the warmth still lingering there. 

You gazed down, feeling warmth arise to your cheeks and smiled to yourself. “Thanks, uh, one of my friends really wanted me to learn the choreo to a song that I thought was really difficult, if you wanted to help me with it. I haven’t started but the dance practice looked intimidating,” you spoke out. 

You felt his gaze on you as he spoke, “Of course, which song is it?”

“Hala Hala by Ateez. The music video looked cool but the choreo seemed intimidating so I’ve been putting it off. I wish I could incorporate the editing style in that music video in my work, but my skills are nothing compared to those editors,” you sighed

You trailed your eyes to Wooyoung after your train of thought stops to see him staring at you with his jaw a bit agape. “Yeah sure, of course. I um, know that dance really well don’t worry!” He exclaimed, trying to hide his shock. 

“Does Sunday work for you? I can’t do tomorrow since I got a work thing,” he gestured vaguely. You nodded. 

“I am indebted to you Wooyoung, I should study the choreo a bit and let you know the more difficult parts to make your life a little easier,” you laughed. You felt him tense up a bit across from you. 

“You haven’t studied the choreo at all before?” he asked. 

“Not much, I was only shown the performance music video like once from my friend,” you shrugged. 

“Thanks for having me over by the way, I gotta do some chores back next door but I’ll be seeing you Sunday!” you smiled as you got up from your seat. Wooyoung seemed a bit tense as he sent you off through the doorway. 

“‘Course, see you Sunday…” He was a bit nervous if you would make the connection that he was with Ateez. Any sensible person would put two and two together with the amount of information he slipped out to you already and the fact that you knew his face. 

He hoped that you wouldn’t react badly or sabotage him in anyway, he had developed some sort of feelings for you as your love of music and dance had captivated his attention and you were just as adventurous as him. 

As night rolled around, you were finished with cleaning your apartment and were sat at your desktop ready to relax and study the choreo for Hala Hala as you said you would for Wooyoung. You had heard of Ateez here and there, but you didn’t know any of the members much less their names and what they looked like. 

All you knew was that your friend was obsessed with the song and to do a cover of this song with her dance group was her dream. You clicked on the music video as you saw the members in their outfits popping up one by one. 

You took in their accessories and appearance as they flashed by on screen, suddenly a familiar face popping on screen. You blinked twice and had to rewind. Wooyoung, your neighbor? No way… you thought, as you kept on staring at the face on screen. 

All this time you had thought that he was just a backup dancer for a group or something of the sort, although him being an idol ran through your mind as well. You decided you’d ask him about it sometime later as you started to note down parts of the choreography. 

Sunday had rolled around quickly with no texts from Wooyoung. You had hoped that he was still available and it wasn’t like him to not send you texts. You had been accustomed to texting him replies of the random messages he sends. You hadn’t heard from him even as you were practicing with the music a little louder than usual the night before. You shrugged it off as you stepped outside to knock next door. 

“Wooyoung?” you called out, after knocking a couple times. It took a minute or so, but you were about to head back into your place as the door opened. 

“Hey, sorry about that I was um… cleaning,” he smiled. In truth, he knew you were at the door but was a bit nervous to see you again knowing his identity might be spoiled. He decided he had to come clean. 

He let out a sigh as he spoke, “Listen I…” 

“Can I ask--” the two of you spoke at once. 

He let out a stifled laugh as you walked into his flat. “I wanted to come clean um…” he started. His nervous energy confirmed what you were thinking about. 

“I know Woo, don’t worry. Everything’s still the same between us if you want it to be, I mean I work for an entertainment company so I’m aware of the stress that idols go through. I genuinely didn’t know you were part of a group until recently,” you stammered. 

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks for not being crazy about things, I was afraid you’d resent me or leak my address or something,” he mumbled. 

“You guys are humans too, plus I just wanted to add you looked so cool in Hala Hala and I may have been listening to some of your other songs,” you gushed. 

“Makes sense as to why you’d blast music and practice at that time, you work so hard. Don’t worry I haven’t been stalking you online either, I wanna get to know you genuinely,” you smiled. 

“In that case, let me teach you to master the choreo to my song then,” he beamed. You gazed at the openness of his living room, furniture pushed back to the back of his apartment, taking in the new speakers as well. 

“They finally arrived huh? I can be back to listening to your music at ungodly hours of the night,” you jokingly nudged him. 

“Maybe I’ll turn it up just for you,” he grinned, turning the speakers on and putting his song on. 

You had shown him a couple parts that you had picked up the other night, but you fumbled during the chorus and ended up tripping on yourself and falling onto his hardwood floor face first. “Yeah, the chorus was definitely what was intimidating,” you groaned. 

“Shit you okay?” Wooyoung rushed to your side and held out his hand. You nodded as you slipped your hand in his, using his weight to hoist yourself back up. 

“Let me show you how we did it,” he offered, stepping next to you. 

“So when we approach the ground, it’s a slow descent and keep your weight balanced in the middle to keep yourself from falling,” he gestured, showing you the move again. “And when you pop back up, do it lightly or else you’ll have a lot of neck pain, take it from me,” he chuckled. 

You grinned at his enthusiasm for you to learn the choreography, taking in his words and repeating the motions that he eagerly showed you. “Was that it?” you asked, gazing around for him. You felt his hands wrap themselves around your arm to readjust their position at the ending pose. 

“There…” he mumbled behind you. “Now that’s perfect,” he smiled, letting you relax your position. “You dance really well y’know? I’m glad I got to see it up close this time,” he grinned. 

You felt flustered at his compliments, coming from someone who was way more trained than you were. “You’re too sweet Woo,” you breathed out, feeling a bit tired and sweaty from practice at this point. 

“I’ll get you some water, we can take a break for now,” he gestured. 

You nodded, catching your breath and letting yourself slump on his couch that was now pushed back against the wall. A minute later he plopped down beside you with a glass of water. You gulped down the hydration as you noticed his gaze on you again. 

You put the glass down and met his gaze, he was smiling at you as he always did when the two of you had a rare moment like this, you felt the flutter in your stomach again as you heard his soft spoken voice. 

“You’re really gorgeous when you dance.” 

You blinked twice, sure that you were daydreaming. 

“Wait what?” 

“I’m serious, you have good rhythm and flow, and not to mention… you’re so pretty,” he confessed.

You felt flustered as he let his gaze linger on you. You weren’t sure when the distance between the two of you got closer but you knew when it closed as he pressed his lips on yours. Truth was, he had been pining for you for awhile and after realizing he could trust you and that his identity was safe with you, he let his feelings take over. 

You let yourself melt into his kiss and soon his touch that enveloped you in a hug. His lips were soft against yours and he didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss when your mouth parted open. He put his weight against you and pretty soon, you were laying down as he was on top of you, taking in your taste as his digits intertwined with yours. 

“Mm Woo,” you mumbled against his kiss. He pulled back, a bit afraid that he had gone too far to fast. 

“The curtains, people can see,” you breathed out, eyes still hooded. 

“Shit we don’t want that happening again,” he cursed before he closed the curtains, leaving the room a bit dim and nice for the atmosphere that was to come. 

“You’re okay with this yeah?” he mumbled, wanting more of you. You nodded, 

“Yes Woo, please…” you exhaled. He brushed his lips against your cheek before planting a kiss there. 

“Thank god, I’ve wanted you so bad. You’re so hot…” he whispered to you. His breathiness went straight to your core as you squirmed in your arousal. 

“Guess your dancing just does something to me,” he teased before pressing his lips back onto yours. 

He let himself grind his hips on you, relieving you of the ache that you had been missing from your core as you felt his length hardening against his cargo pants. You tilted your head back in pleasure as he started to trail his kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, still grinding his hardness against your arousal. 

“I want to… feel you,” you managed to breath out. 

You managed to shimmy your pants off with ease as he kicked off his cargo pants. You also got your shirt over your head to toss to the side, even with his touch and kisses around your neck. Wooyoung trailed his hand down to your core, feeling the arousal soaking through your panties. 

“So excited… and all for me hm?” he teased, pressing his finger onto your aching core. 

“Yes Woo,” you moaned out. 

You felt his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. He quickly stripped off the remainder of his shirt and undergarments. You gazed at his defined muscles, droplets glistening as a reminder of your dance practice now turned into an intimate waltz with one another. You gazed down to see the length of his hardness, now dripping with precum as a result from his arousal. You did your best to kick off your panties as your own arousal ached for him. 

“So pretty…” he mumbled, taking in your form. 

He leaned down to cup his mouth over your breast as he let his cock slide around your folds before finally slipping himself inside you with ease. You let out a stifled whimper as he stretched out your hole. It had been awhile since you had any action but  that didn’t mean that you didn’t have fun by yourself once in awhile, and recently it had been to the thought of Wooyoung. He was attractive nonetheless but you never thought you’d be in this position. 

“Fuck love,, I won’t last if you’re this tight,” he breathed out. Your core clenched around him as an affect of his words to you. 

You let your hands trace his defined figure, taking in his beauty and his red locks that fell inches away from your face. You felt him move and slowly start to thrust in you. He planted kisses on your breasts, even taking the time to suck a love mark onto one. 

You let out a breathy moan as he continued to thrust in and out of you, slowly increasing his pace. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, wanting to feel more of him. You let out a sharp hiss of pleasure as you felt him bottoming out inside of you. 

“Woo… mm, you feel so good…” you moaned. He quickened his pace as your core clenched around him. 

“God you’re so hot like this,” he breathed out, his eyes lustful as he gazed upon your naked form below him. You let your hips take reign as you bucked up to meet his pace. 

“Woo I’m so… close,” you whimpered. 

“Finish for me,” he whispered in a deeper voice. 

That was enough to send you over the edge as your core spasmed around his hardness. You felt him twitch inside of you before he let out a high pitched moan and spilled into you, rocking himself into you to chase the high. 

“Shit, I um, didn’t mean to do it inside of you,” he stammered, feeling shameful of his actions. 

“Wait Woo I should have said something earlier but I’m protected, on the pill so don’t worry. I should have still said something earlier though!” 

You reassured him, running your fingers through his locks as you gazed lovingly at him. He let out a sigh of relief as he slowly slipped out of you. “Some dance practice we had today right?” You chuckled. 

“One that leaves me to clean up my couch,” he laughed along with you. 

You let yourself relax into his touch as he placed an arm around you, pressing a kiss onto your temple. “What does this make us?” you asked. 

“Anything you want it to be, but I should have asked you out on a date before this…” 

“Well I mean our actual dance practice could have been our date,” you giggled at his realization. 

“Let me take you out on a real one then. I like you a lot!”

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

[familyvideostevie]

hi hi lovely first of all i would LOVE to read your fluffy joel fic with no smut, i love your writing a lot and it’s just perfect and so comforting. also, if it is okay i would like to request a joel fic where the reader is someone who gets cold really easily and he’s always being a bit bossy and grumpy with her because she doesn’t wear enough layers or always gives him their blankets, and just like very fluffy very cute vibes! i love youuuuu

omg. yay!!! congratulations you are my first joel request!! thank you very much, this was a lot of fun. it's very short and a bit sweet and i hope you like it! (hope you like the fluffy joel fic, too!) joel doesn't get why you won't wear your damn gloves. fluff, jackson au, 0.8k

---

It starts with gloves.

"You okay?" Joel asks. Well, grunts, more like. You're on patrol which is serious business so you're getting serious Joel.

"Uh, yeah," you say. "Why?"

His jaw shifts like he's grinding his teeth. "You look..."

You try not to smirk too much. "How do I look, Joel?"

The two of you have been doing...whatever it is you're doing for a few months now. Gentle flirting turned to drinks turned to dinner turned to nights in his bed or yours, whispers in your hair and lips on your skin, his steady, solid presence at your side around town.

It's nice. You're enjoying it. And, perhaps most of all, you're enjoying how Joel Miller continues to surprise you. The depth of his worry and care, the jokes he tells out of nowhere, how his nostrils flare when he's trying to hide his smile.

You knew him to be a man capable of violence. You're all capable of violence. You've seen it, done it. That's life. It hardens you.

And while Joel is grumpy a lot of the time for good reason he also knows how to laugh loudly and is learning a song you love and haven't heard in twenty years so he can play it for you on his guitar.

So his unamused glare delights you more than anything.

"You look cold," he huffs.

"Well, it is fall in Wyoming, Joel," you say. "It's cold outside and we're outside." You sweep your arm in a wide arc at the beauty of the valley. Your horse snorts as if agreeing with you. He's right, though. You're cold but it's bearable. You get cold pretty easily, in fact, but Joel has no reason to know that. The weather just started to change.

"Well," he says, mocking you. "Why don't you have gloves or a hat or somethin'?"

He knows why. Because you left for patrol from his house without stopping at yours. You know he's going to find a way to make this his fault, for not checking that you had everything you needed, for not offering you the clothes on his back. You also know he's going to file this away and make it his new mission.

"Because I'm fine, that's why." Your tone leaves no room for argument but Joel tries anyway.

"Your hands are red."

"Joel," you snap. "I'm fine. Leave it."

Sometimes it's overwhelming to be cared about by a man with his intensity. He doesn't do things by halves. You're still learning what it means for him to be all in on you.

He says nothing. You glance at him and see he's holding out a pair of leather gloves you recognize.

"I'm not taking your gloves --"

"Just fuckin' take 'em, alright? If your hands are cold then you can't shoot and I don't want to have to leave you out here because someone got the jump on us. Ellie would kill me."

Typical Joel. Covering up his concern with gruffness. But you know better than to take it personally by now -- you see him with Ellie, see him with people in town. You know what he's like in your bed when he wakes up, the way he strokes your jaw and presses his lips to your temple. You know what's underneath this exterior.

So even if it's a little overwhelming you take the gloves and work them onto your hands. But you don't say thank you because you can't let him win everything.

But after that patrol Joel does make it his mission to ensure you're not cold. It's a little overbearing but you know he likes to be useful so what do you do? You lean into it. You do get cold easily, after all. You let him drape his flannels around you when you don't wear enough layers on the way to his house. You let him tug the hat on your head over your ears. You let him tuck a blanket under your feet on the couch. You let him take care of you.

"Feels like you're doin' this on purpose," he grumbles one night as you walk back from The Tipsy Bison. There's a bite to tonight's wind and he's got his arm around your shoulders so you're pressed into his side. You aren't wearing a coat warm enough for the chill.

"Doing what?"

"Being a pain in my ass. Givin' me grey hairs with your fuckin' determination to get frost bite."

"Well if you hate it so much --" You pretend to pull away from him but his doesn't let you go far.

"Didn't say that. Just think you should dress properly for once."

You laugh and pull him to a stop, turning so you're pressed against his chest.. "Why do I need more layers when I have you?"

"I see how it is," he drawls. "Usin' me for my warmth, are you?"

Joel isn't big on public displays of affection. He's a private man and likes to keep his cards close to his chest. But it's nighttime and there's hardly anyone out, so when you lean close he allows it, brushing your noses together.

"Course I am," you whisper.

He huffs. His palms press into your back. "Figures."

The kiss he gives you warms you all the way down to your toes.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[thelibraryoferebor]

Rarepairs for When You Wanna Switch it Up

Woah, it's been a while since I posted, but I still haven't stopped reading tolkienverse fics, so I have a large backlog of fics to recommend. It's just the matter of getting them on a list and to you guys that's the trick...For your sanity I encourage you to consider this blog all but retired, even though I am going to try to get out the lists that I've had in the works for a while.

This list is basically what it says: rarepairs. Except, rarepair doesn't actually mean that the pairings are all that rare, just that the central pairing isn't Thilbo, Gigolas, or Barduil, since that's what I recommend the most of!

Enjoy!

~H

Spaces Between Us by Linguistic Jubilee 

|| general - 7.9k - completed - Di/D ||

Thorin pauses. “You have to understand that what I am about to say is so uncomfortable for me that I would almost rather fight the white orc again than continue, but. Dis. You must be blind if you cannot see that Dwalin stares at you the way you stare at him.”

Notes: Ok. So. I love Dis/Dwalin so much. Like I'm not even sure entirely why, but I adore it. This fic especially kinda like encapsulates all the lovely feels of the two of them and I think does really well by both characters and is just so worth reading. Even if you're initially iffy on the ship idea, give it a shot, you won't regret it. Also, mayhaps be looking at a whole Dis/Dwalin post in the future.

In Loving You With My Whole Heart by Lapin 

|| teen - 11.3k - completed - F/O ||

After the song comes on the radio, Ori is determined not to forgive Fíli. But it's not the first song Fíli has written about him, and it likely won't be the last.

Rock Band AU

Notes: This fic guys. It's just. So cute. And I love the Ori centric POV. It's desperately romantic and angsty all at the same time. I want more.

Fear and Family (Or, the One Where Kíli Is the Sensible One) by Lumeleo

|| general - 43.7k - completed - F/O;K/Ta;T/B ||

After the Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo isn't sure of his welcome in the mountain, and thus returns to the Shire as soon as he can. Somewhat to his surprise, Ori goes with him -- but it turns out Ori has his own reasons for leaving Erebor behind. Well, Bilbo's quite used to being the talk of the Shire.

The line of Durin might suffer of thick skulls, but fortunately Kíli is less stubborn than his uncle and brother, and decides to fix things, even if that means taking his newlywed wife for a ride all the way to the Shire and beyond. Of course, he doesn't yet know what he'll see there -- but he does know how to fix things. Even if it means giving up his claim to the throne.

(Let's not kid ourselves -- that's his favourite part.)

Notes: This is a bit of a fandom classic, tbh. I think that Kili is, tbh, the best part of this fic. He's so fun to read and I love the relationship between him and Tauriel (ofc) but also between him and Ori and Bilbo. The bond between Bilbo and Ori is also perfection.

One Hit by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales) 

|| general - 7.9k - completed - D/O ||

Dwalin was so busy making sure Thorin understood the gifts Bilbo graced the king with that he did not give much time to think over the items Ori gave him. It took the scribe giving Dawlin a punch to get him to finally realize.

Notes: Awww, Dwalin. That's how I felt for most of the fic, though sometimes it became an arghhh Dwalin instead. Definitely worth reading.

Settling Down by Shay_Moonsilk 

|| general - 1.8k - completed - F/O;D/N ||

Dori wants his brothers to settle down with a nice dwarf, but will he like the ones they chose?

Spoiler: Yes he does.

Notes: DORI!! He's so cool. So protective. So traumatized. I love him. And how much he cares for his brothers. Their relationship is explored and discussed in such a lovely way in this fic and I <333333 it.

I’ve Been Looking for You by Resacon1990 

|| teen - 28k - completed - D/O;T/B;D/N;Bo/N ||

It starts on the wrist when you're young. The first words your soulmate will ever say to you are tattooed in a colour, red, green, yellow, blue, any colour each with their own meaning, and the day they're said and the moment you touch your soulmate is the moment they travel up to settle on your forearm.

Five stories, five different bonds, five endings.

Notes: This fic I read a long time ago, but I remember enjoying. I believe that it follows each pair in it's own chapter which is cool. But it also has a lot of interesting discussions about soulmates and almost the impracticality (???) of it, or the ways in which the system is imperfect.

A Perfect Match by Chamelaucium 

|| general - 38.4k - completed - D/O;Bo/N;T/B ||

Bilbo tries his hand at match-making. What he doesn't expect is to find his perfect match in the process...

Notes: This is a classic trope. Almost the reverse of the Dwalin trying to get Bilbo and Thorin together fic from above. Def worth your time, a sweet little thing that just makes you feel fluffy.

In Carven Oak by bubbysbub 

|| not rated - 26.3k - completed - T/B/D ||

It's Yule time when Bilbo arrives back in the Shire- with a host of Dwarrow at his back, the sentimental lugs. Except now the assorted Aunts and Uncles have gotten quite the wrong idea in their excited interrogation, and he's stuck pretending that he's married a few of the hairy fellows.

If he could just get through the assorted required Baggins and Took social events without outing himself as a complete fibber or drunkenly attempting to kiss Dwalin and Thorin under the mistletoe, it may just be a Yule miracle.

Another attempt at writing a common trope fic that went completely off the rails.

Notes: Ok so I know this is still technically Thilbo, but it also includes Dwalin who is epic. I really love how casually the polyamory is treated in this and I think that it is a great introduction to polyamorous ships in fanfiction if you're curious about it.

Heavy with Many Burdens by moonbeam (luvsbitca)

|| mature - 39.8k - completed - D/O;T/B ||

Bilbo leaves Thorin and the company following Thorin’s words before the BoTFA unaware that he is taking more from their relationship than a broken heart. Months later Dwalin finds Bilbo in need of help in the Shire when he is delivering Bilbo’s share of the treasure. He remains in the Shire unaware that he is leaving Ori behind in a precarious situation.

Notes: This is such a sweet fic with Dwalin and Bilbo's relationship especially feeling particularly special. Poor Ori and Thorin, though. It all ends well in the end, though!

Back in My Right Place by frodomybeloved (rosequartzstars) 

|| general - 11.2k - completed - Fr/S;T/B ||

When Frodo is sick in time for Bilbo and Thorin's visit from Erebor, they spend an evening watching over him, along with a presence that has never left his side: Sam Gamgee. It is Sam who finally puts Frodo on the road to recovery with the unlikeliest of remedies— a kiss.

Eleven years later, Frodo is recovering at Rivendell, after being mortally wounded by the Witch King at Weathertop. He has been asleep for three nights, and already Sam fears he might never awaken. But when all looks dire, the same cure might be the thing to restore Frodo to life.

A story of two parallel evenings, years apart, created from art by YamBits (#98) for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2021.

Notes: One extended word: awwwwwww.

[narcosfandomdiscord]

Narcovember Prompt Roulette List

Saalud a mi gente! We in the Narcos Fandom Forever discord server are excited to bring another 30-day challenge: a multifandom event that we’re nevertheless calling Narcovember. Despite its name, this is open to ALL FANDOMS, NOT JUST NARCOS. Creators are encouraged to submit fanworks (fic, art, gifs, vids, op-eds) for any fandom your heart desires!

This event's format is a bit unconventional. Instead of a prompt for each day of the month, there's a Prompt Roulette Wheel and a Prompt Index (☟ below) featuring numbered items with three prompts each. Every day you'll spin the wheel. The number that comes up on the spin corresponds to a number on the index where you can then pick one of the three prompts.

So for example, say on day one, I spin the wheel and get number 8. I’d go to 8 on the index (titled These Damn Restraints). Of those three prompts, I like Yikes best so that's my day one prompt. Next day, I spin and get 14. I find 14 on the index (Decisions, Decisions, Decisions) and pick one of those for day two's prompt. And so on. Note: If, on Day 2, instead of 14 I got 8 again, I’d spin the wheel again to get a new number. If, for whatever reason, you don’t want to spin twice, you can choose another prompt from that "Book of" that you haven't used (e.g. Day 1, I chose Yikes. So Day 2, I’d go for, "Now you know why I never say anything.") Ideally, we think it’s more fun to not repeat index items, but ultimately it’s dealer’s choice. Aka we're not about to get real fascist policing, aint nobody got time for that.

Here's -> the roulette wheel. Or you can make your own! (Just make sure it has 30 slices.)

Use the hashtag #narcovember or tag us to submit your entries so we can reblog them! A note on the masterlist - bc of the Tumblr-imposed link limit, for now we'll only link the fic. BUT at the end of the month, there will be a comprehensive list with all the contributors’ blogs so ppl can find your other work easily. 

Happy spinning, everybody!

❖ Prompt Index ❖

1 — Book of Genesis

Fanwork inspired by someone else’s fanwork (be sure to tag the creator of the OG work!) 

“The fun begins here.” 

Ghosts

2 — Book of Fuck-ups

Righteous indignation glo-up aka fanwork that corrects a plot misstep or writing blunder that bugs the shit outta you 

“It’s not the what-ifs that fuck you up, so much as the what-might-have-beens.” 

Bite

>>>>>>>>>> more prompts below the cut <<<<<<<<<<<<

3 - Book of Stuff That Goes in the Junk Drawer

Fanwork inspired by a song and include why the song sparked the idea (was it the lyrics, genre? something you thought a character would like? etc) 

“It’s never too late to make history.”

Juice

4 — Book of the Uno-Card-Reverse

Fanwork based on your fav reverse/inverse trope**

“Evil isn’t always forever.” 

Mirrors 

5 — Book of Negative Spaces

Fanwork using a line from a diff show/movie as a prompt (e.g. line from Mad Men, “I don’t think of you at all” in a Narcos fic, line from Band of Brothers, “The only hope you have is to accept the fact that you’re already dead,” in a Hannibal fic, etc etc) 

“We gain more from our mistakes than our success, you know that?”

Pitch

6 — Book of (un)Consciousness

Fanwork inspired by a dream you’ve had (include 1-2 sentence summary of the dream at the beginning of the post) 

“Just dream with me.”

Technicolor 

7 — Book of Time-travel

Fanwork inspired by ancient mythology (Greek, Norse, aztec, celtic, etc. Bible counts as mythology, fuck it) 

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Constellation

8 — Book of These Damn Restraints

Fanwork that ends with 2(+) characters trapped in a phone booth with no way out 

“Now you know why I never say anything.”

Yikes

9 — Book of Fateful Conversations

Fanwork where the plot takes place entirely in the back of a cab OR where one character is the cab driver and the other is the passenger 

“You'd be surprised what you can live with.” 

Cursed

10 — Book of Nepo-baby Levels of Incompetence

Fanwork where character is in a profession they have no business being in with no prior training, so they fake knowing what they’re doing – like imposter syndrome except they’re just actually a fraud (e.g. Rust Cohle is a grief counselor, Richie Jerimovich is a hedge fund manager, Roman Roy is a beat cop) 

“And who hasn’t believed a flattering lie?” 

Evergreen 

11 — Book of Pit Stops

Fanwork that starts with a character hitchhiking and getting picked up by another character(s) 

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” 

Rush

12 — Book of Balancing In Between

Fanwork whose setting is a liminal space (e.g. empty swimming pool, bar or arcade after hours, airport terminal, church confessional, empty elevator, Twin Peaks black lodge, John Wick continental bar, etc) 

“Good things come in threes.” 

Wire

13 — Book of in Urgent Need of Assistance

Fanwork where a character wakes up on an empty submarine, 300ft underwater, thinking they’re the only person aboard until they run into another character(s) 

“One day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt so much.” 

Desperate

14 - Book of Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Crossover for 2(+) fandoms you have used before but 2(+) characters you’ve never used or vice versa 

“All we have are our choices.” 

Crossroads 

15 — Book of How tf Did We Get Here

Fanwork that starts off with 2(+) characters waiting in line at the DMV and ends in a completely different, totally unpredictable, why-and-how-tf-did-we-get-here place 

“There’s a moon a mile from here and nobody home.” 

Ambition

16 — Book of Locally Sourced

Fanwork that mimics a bottle episode, so the entirety of it takes place in a relatively mundane setting (e.g. the stockroom of a store, interrogation room, a hotel lobby, waiting room of a doctor’s office, etc etc) 

“Make yourself comfortable while you can."

Notebook

17 — Book of Inception

Fanwork that provides an origin story for a character that doesn’t have one in canon 

“It (he/she/they) made me who I am.”

Improvement

18 — Book of Mysteries

Fanwork where 2(+) characters have to escape a panic room. Depending on fandom, this can be like the innocent party version that you take your friends to for someone’s bday, or can be an actual doomsday shelter 

“I thought they were with you!?"

Endurance

19 — Book of Near Misses

Fanwork with 2(+) characters from the same movie/show/book who’ve never met 

“Looks like we missed our window.” 

Rattled

20 — Book of Sleight of Hand

Fanwork of partners (romantic, profesh, or both) running into each other unexpectedly while both are doing something criminal/something they know they aren’t supposed to do (e.g. burying a body, carrying out a heist, meeting someone they shouldn’t)

“You can't ask the truth from someone who trades in lies.” 

Brace

21— Book of Nerves of Steel

Fanwork where 2(+) characters do a B&E, but get stuck when the owner unexpectedly comes home, and they whisper-yell argue over how to get out

“You won't believe the day I just had.”

Cortisol

22 — Book of Identity Theft

Fanwork where 2(+) characters meet accidentally bc one has accidentally dialed the wrong number (e.g. Syd [The Bear] tries to call Carm to yell at him for Something Dumb He Did but ends up calling Cousin Greg [Succession] instead) 

“I'm not the one.”

Brand

23 — Book of Just Chaos™️™️™️

Cracked crossover/ship with 2(+) characters from very diff genres (e.g. Dwight Schrute [The Office] & Tommy Shelby [Peaky Blinders], Frenchie [The Boys] x Penelope [Bridgerton], etc) 

“You’re my idiot, forever.” 

Untouchable

24 — Book of Revelation

Fanwork where 2(+) characters are stranded in the desert and in a sick twist, must decide which one of them to leave behind in order for the other(s) to be saved

“I like that I don't have to worry about you.”

Rapture

25 — Book of Reciprocity

Fanwork where 2(+) characters play poker (or any card game that has betting) but the chips are magic and the winner gets extra years of life instead of money (e.g. say, in poker, green chips = $500, blue chips = $1k, red chips = $2k, black chips = $5k. In this scenario, green chips = 6mos, blue chips = 1yr, red chips = 2yrs, black chips = 5yrs, etc) 

“Fine, I'll do it myself.”

Quid-Pro-Quo

26 — Book of Abduction

Fanwork where 2(+) characters get kidnapped by a kooky cult, are thrown into the trunk of a car together and have to figure out how to escape

“Somebody has to be paying attention.” 

Spiral

27 — Book of Caretaking

Fanwork where a character accidentally shoots/stabs/otherwise maims another character and has to perform first responder, triage levels of first aid to save them (dealer’s choice as to whether it's successful bc yolo) 

“Don't make me take care of you.” 

 Ritual

28 — Book of Weaponized Passive Aggression

Fanwork where 2(+) characters attend a dinner party and witness that moment when a couple starts passive-aggressively arguing but not outright fighting in front of the whole table and it’s even more painfully awkward than if they just straight up fought OR the 2(+) characters are the ones arguing making everyone else uncomfortable asf

“I wish you the best and I hope you find it far from me.”

Attitude

29 — Book of the (un)Dead

Fanwork where a character dies and another character shepherds them to the afterlife like their own personal grim reaper

“We bury our dead alive.” 

Siesta

30 — Book of There's No Place Like ...

Back from the dead: a character came back wrong or right, but either way, no one else knows how to handle it

“Even if you make it, you’ll never really go home.” 

Homesick

**There will be a reverse trope list in another post for examples.

[bitterbutblue]

anby demara <3

come right on me- i mean camaraderie! ☆ anby demara x reader

~ can u tell im a sabrina carpenter fan yeah im a sabrina carpetner fan COMERIGHTON ME I MEAN CAMARADERIE SAID URE NOT IN MY TIMEZONE BUT U WANNA BE

very dialogue heavy fic guys

song: bed chem - sabrina carpenter ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The first time you kissed her had Anby wondering if she needed to go to the hospital. You were sitting on the roof of the Cunning Hare's car, talking about the universe and all it's glory under the now corrupted sky. Each person who lives in New Eridu doesn't know which day will be their last, and you knew that you wanted to at least get to know Anby before the worst happened. You told her about your life, your time in high school, your relationships- which lead to her interest in relationships piqued and she asked you about it.

"Is it like the movies?"

"Not really. I mean it feels that way at first, but it's like a star that stops burning as brightly after a while."

Anby just humed in acknowledgement as she took another bite of her burger.

"Have you been in relationships?"

"No. Never had the time to." She shrugged as she swallowed "Seems nice though."

"It's cool."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

Your cheeks flushed a light pink at that question.

"Uh- yeah?"

"Is it like the movies?"

"Well, it's not as insane and heart throbbing as they make it out to be." You laughed

Anby stares into the abyss of the starless night, chewing on a now-stale fry before turning her attention back to you.

"Can you kiss me?"

You choked on your drink, sputtering like an embarrassed mess as you wheezed.

"Huh?"

"I wanna know what it feels like"

"It doesn't feel good if you're kissing someone you don't actually, like, love."

Anby muses over that for a bit, but she shrugs.

"I still wanna try."

Who were you to deny her puppy dog eyes she does unintentionally? You haven't kissed anyone in a while, especially after joining the hares. You hope you aren't too out of practice. You grabbed one of the napkins from inside the take-out bag, wiping your lips.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

With the napkin now stuffed in your pocket, you turned around to face her. She looked at you with a look you can't quite read as you move a hand up to cup her cheek.

"You ready?"

She nods.

The kiss wasn't... mind blowing or anything. Your heart fluttered but that's normal when you kiss someone, or anyone, right? It was short but it was sweet. You pulled away pretty quickly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"So... how was it?"

Anby just kind of stared. Like just really stared at you for a bit, her eyes practically boring into yours and you were starting to feel a bit intimidated.

"I gotta go."

What a terrible way to end your first kiss, Anby.

A week had passed since then, and Anby could not get you out of her mind for the life of her. She has been avoiding you like the plague while you mentally cursed yourself for fucking up another friendship. She yelps when Nicole suddenly grabs her arm one day, shoving her into a nearby room.

"Nicole-"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What?"

"Why are you avoiding the new recruit?"

"No reason."

"Bullshit!"

Anby looks away, suddenly finding the posters about the N.E.P.S. rather intriguing.

"Bitch!"

"What?"

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"LIAR!"

"What's going on?"

Wonderful. Billy Kid had invited himself to join the room- soda cup in one hand (he can't even drink soda, what is he doing????) and Starlight Knight VHS tape in the other.

"Anby was being weird around the new recruit, right?"

"Totally." He nods, his eyes narrowing "I thought you two were getting along."

"We are."

"You guys went on a mission together and she came back complaining that you refused to talk to her the entire time!" Nicole groans, impatient now

"I don't like working with her anymore."

"Why???" Billy whines

"She makes me unfocused."

The two go silent after that, just sorta staring at Anby with '???' eyes.

"What?"

"Elaborate?"

The pair spoke at the same time, and Anby just huffed.

"She's weird. She makes me feel weird and I can't focus. When we kissed-"

"WHEN YOU WHAT?"

Anby winced at how loud they were. And of course, it gets worse because Nekomata pokes her head through the gap of the door that Billy left open.

"Anby kissed who?"

"THE RECRUIT-" Nicole screeches

"WAS IT GOOD?" Billy's question was completely unnecessary

"ANBY YOU KISSED HER??"

They were truly infuriating. Anby shoots them a glare and they shut up, but they don't stop giving her this odd look that she doesn't quite enjoy either. Nicole breaks the silence.

"Why'd you kiss?"

"I asked them to."

"Gay." Billy mutters

"WHY?" Nicole's face was red from anger at this point

"She likes the new recruit." Nekomata cackles from the beanbag she has seated herself on, curling up as she nestles her head into her arms.

"I do not." Anby deadpans, unaware of the shade of pink on her cheeks. "She is just... odd. And makes me feel odd. We should kick her out."

"No." Nicole snaps "I'm not kicking out a valued member in the Cunning Hares because you're feeling gay!"

Anby's face is undeniably red at this stage, huffing as she crosses her arms.

"It is not like that."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"You kissed her."

"As friends."

"You're avoiding her."

"Because she's weird."

"DAMMIT ANBY-" Nicole groans "It's okay if you want to kiss her again! Or hold her hand! Or scis-"

"NO!" Billy shrieks, interrupting Nicole

"They have too much sexual tension! That's the problem!"

"Wha- No!" Anby scoffs, visbly embarrassed now

Truthfully told, Anby could not get that night out of her mind. Every time she saw you, she felt like she was going to combust on the spot- which was definitely not normal. Her heart rate also had her thinking she needed to go to the hospital to get something checked out. Maybe it was a cardiac arrest? Maybe she should check herself into the hospital, she's not sure if she-

"What's going on?"

You peek your head to the room in confusion, seeing all four of them gathered together upset you a little bit. You knew being a new recruit would mean probably being excluded a bit but seeing it happen just sucked. Nicole's eyes widened when she saw the hurt expression on your face you tried so hard to conceal.

"Oh, wait it's not- we're talking to Anby about... uh..."

"Sexual frustration." Nekomata nods, you choke on nothing and Anby hurls a pillow at her

"It's not sexual if I want to kiss someone!" Anby scowls

"Anby's figuring out a crush." Nicole sighs

"I don't have a crush!"

"You wanna kiss them?" Billy questions

"As- as a friend?"

"NO!"

You just watch in confusion, unsure on if you should join the conversation or not. But Anby looked so uncomfortable, the usually calm and stoic girl now face red and looking away. You couldn't help but feel this pang of guilt, even though you hadn't done anything.

"Guys, cut it out." You sigh, walking up to stand next to Anby "Just leave her be."

The three just kinda shoot weird looks eat each other. Nicole opens her mouth but is quickly elbowed aggressively by Nekomata, who flashes you a charming (yet devious) smile as she drags a whining Nicole out of the room, Billy following suit.

"Are you okay?"

You weren't sure how to break the silence. It was way too awkward for your own good. Anby would look at everything but you, acting like as if you weren't even there. Finally, she swallows and speaks as she eyes at the wall panelling.

"I need to go-"

"No."

She freezes at the tone of your voice, a tone she had never heard before. You sounded harsh, irritated, hurt. The last one stuck out the most because it made her feel like her heart was closing in on itself.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

You scoff

"You totally are! After the night we kissed, you just stopped talking to me! Did I cross a line that night? Did I make you uncomfortable?"

You can't stop yourself, feeling yourself get emotional now. It hurt to see the person who you grew to admire in the Cunning Hares go from being vulnerable to closed off within the blink of an eye.

"No."

Anby's voice is much softer compared to yours, looking around the room as her eyes dart left to right.

"I don't know how to... deal with what I feel around you."

You huff out angrily, crossing your arms.

"What do you mean?"

She fidgets with her fingers, picking at the skin next to her nails as she bites the inside of her cheek. You feel yourself hesitate in that moment, you want to be mad at her but the way she's looking at you makes you feel like you're suffocating. You step forward, a cautious test, to see if she'll flinch. She doesn't. So you take another step forward, moving to take your hand into yours so that she stops picking at her skin until she bleeds. Her hand is cold in yours, and Anby feels her head growing light.

"What do you mean?" You ask again, less sharp this time.

"I-"

Fuck it, she would die one day anyways, right? Could be tomorrow, could be in two decades.

Fuck it.

"I feel different around you. Like warmer. I keep thinking about that night, and I-" she licks her lips "I want to replicate what we did."

She looks up at last, golden eyes staring into yours.

"You said it wouldn't feel like a movie kiss. But I felt everything you said I wouldn't feel."

She takes a deep breath in, trying to stop her voice from shaking as much as it should be shaking. She feels your hand that's holding her tighten but she can't stop now.

"Maybe something's wrong with me? If I shouldn't be feeling those things then why am I-"

She doesn't even get to finish her sentence because you pulled her hand so that she stumbled forward. You put your other hand on her cheek right before putting your lips on hers, kissing her with the same softness as that night. That night under the now-corrupted sky, a reminder of their inevitable downfall as a species but that sky is so beautiful to her now.

"Nothing's wrong, you dumbass." You say breathlessly as you pull away "God, if you want to date me, just tell me!"

Anby feels the room grow warmer, her face getting even hotter as you brush your thumb against her cheek.

"I am confused about what I'm feeling. I feel very... light." She whispers, and you just smile.

"You're adorable, Anby."

Her blush was so intense, you got a bit worried at how red one's face could get but at the same time it was genuinely the most heart-melting thing you've ever seen.

"Can I be yours?"

Your words knocked the damn air out of her lungs as she stares into your eyes- who knew you could feel so much just from looking at someone? She's learning a lot right now, she didn't realise she could end up like... this.

"Please."

She'll never curse that night sky again, or the corruption that eats away at her future because the present is you, the future will always be you.

[josephseedismyfather]

WIP Music (it's not) Monday (anymore)

It's been a hot minute since I've shared music. Thank you to @simplegenius042 and @noodlecupcakes for tagging me this week! 🥰

This week I'm sharing a song for a different fic! I haven't shared much for anything past my 3 main Far Cry 5 fics, but there are more in the works. There will be bunker years, and New Dawn fics. My main FC5 fics do have alternate endings to the game, sooo. I guess this could be a bit of a spoiler for my friends who don't know details. This fic has been stuck in my head lately and although I'm not writing for it yet, I'm taking all the notes and making sure I keep track of all the ideas.

Untitled Johnny New Dawn WIP.

Sitting in my ivory tower Invincible to fallSome would say my final hour As you scale the wall

Step inside I dare you all And breathe the lies And heed the call

When this all is said and done I will have my way And you will take the blame

You're over the line, under the gun I am the reason for what you've done Truth of a crime you can't outrun Under the spell of my silver tongue (yeah)

I swear to God I'll find a way To prove I still belong I'd rather watch it burn away Than say that I was wrong

You're over the line, under the gun I'll keep on scheming for what's to come Truth of a crime you can't outrun Under the spell of my silver tongue

This alliance built on fear and rage Ends in violence if I have my way

Fear Spite Lie to divide us Hate Strife Bring decay

Opt-in/out of tag list here.

@wrathfulrook, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @trench-rot, @ladyoriza, @cassietrn

@redreart, @inafieldofdaisies, @hotmessteaparty, @g0dspeeed, @buggknife

@insanityofvaas, @malefiquinn, @strangefable, @skoll-sun-eater, @chazz-anova

@aristomal, @ocdemon-747, @evilvvithin, @carlosoliveiraa, @la-grosse-patate

@omen-speaker, @grimmylover7, @3llisarts, @scorpiosleeps, @cloudofbutterflies92

@direwombat, @spookyrares, @simonxriley, @strafethesesinners and anybody else who wants to share. Tag me! 😘

[wildflowerteas]

JUST SAW YOUR TSP PLAYLISTS COULD YOU GO THROUGH SOME OF THE SONGS AND EXPLAINED WHY YOU ADDED THEM 🤭🤭🤭

of course!!!!!! this is a bit of a Pandora's box of an answer, so I'm going to keep it going below the cut so that it doesn't drag on and on on the dash

Embarrassingly, I didn't think people would actually look at the playlist. So it's really a jumble of songs that I can mindlessly listen to while I write and battle caffeine addiction. I'm considering re-vamping it to be more vibes-based, but that'll take a bit of work. So as of right now, a lot of the songs on the RC playlist are there purely for their sound rather than the lyrics. It's hard to get in the mood of this fic while listening to my usual tunes ( some would debate me on that, but try writing while Van Halen is blasting in your ears vs. while you're on the road ). However, there are some that have been added for more symbolic/plot-based reasons. *OBVIOUSLY, THERE ARE SPOILERS UP TO 22 UNDER HERE SO DON'T READ ON IF YOU DONT WANT TO SEE THOSE* Here are some of the stand-outs:

Lust for Life, by Lana del Rey ft. the Weeknd for these lyrics specifically: - Cause we're the masters of our own fate - Keepin' me hot / Like July forever - They say only the good die young / that just ain't right The instrumental version of this song is on my YouTube writing playlist ( because I can't find it on Spotify). It's just gorgeous. I put it at the beginning of the playlist because to me, it represents the end of the fic.

Remember Why You Fell in Love by Natalie Madigan - introduced to me by a friend. I fell in love with it because of this lyric: We were adding up sins in the city of angels

Western Nights by Ethel Cain - Trouble's always gonna find you baby / but so will I - To me, a very TSP Dazai song. Trouble's not finding him, though. He's attracted to it, and despite how hard he tries or what opportunity he's given he always comes back to what hurts him. - Also, a song about heading West, which Dazai tries to avoid by globe-trotting in 22 but he ends up in the same place anyway.

Havana by Camila Cabello - STARTED OUT AS A JOKE. However, while I was watching the music video while on call with a friend I realized, well yeah this could be something. - Lyrically, it has little to do with the story, however the feeling of wanting to go back to a place you've never been to, or to a time you've never been to, resonated with me

Serial Killer by Lana del Rey ( unreleased ) - do I even have to explain this one

The Greatest by Lana del Rey - to me, another epilogue-esque song. - We didn't know that we had it all / Nobody warns you before the fall

Summertime Sadness - basically nothing good happens in summer. to any of the characters. - Dazai's birthday, him losing Oda and Ango in the first interlude chapter happens the summer of '56 - RC murder happens July 17th, 1958 - The case gets reopened in SUMMER. But lyrics-wise: 'Kiss me hard before you go' was on my mind from the very moment I started writing this fic.

The RC playlist is not refined at all. It really is just a dump ( like Dazai's shipping container conditions, really ), however the TSP SSKK playlist DB is definitely more in-line with what I want to deliver story/reading-experience wise. Obviously, some songs are there just because they're from the right decade, but many aren't.

Popular, by The Weeknd ft. Playboi Carti and Madonna - I apologize for just how much of the weeknd there is in both of these playlists, but: - I've seen the devil down sunset - Give her a little taste, runnin' back to me / Put it in her veins, pray her soul to keep <- i haven't exactly been subtle about the use of addiction as a metaphor in this fic. Hell, Florida!!! by taylor swift is in the RC playlist ( and specifically, a TSP!Atsushi song ) because it describes escapism. This song goes in the TSP!SSKK playlist because it introduces L.A. from a surface-level point of view, and what their biases of Chuuya are before starting to investigate the case seriously

Moon by the Cab is . . . self-indulgent. that's all I'll say about that.

Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking - 'to know you is to love you' - ALSO a very trippy soundscape. I had it, and quite a bit of Donna Summers on while writing the Tycheron mind-meld scene.

Disturbia ( originally by Rhianna ) covered by the Cab in Punk goes Pop. - you're in the city of wonder - Better think twice, your train of thought will be altered / So if you must falter, be wise Just, a classic song for Atsushi and The AR's relationship in this fic.

Roman Holiday by Halsey, which is kind of a reference to one of my favorite movies ( Roman Holiday starring Audrey Hepburn ), is just such a good coming-of-age song.

Every Breaking Wave by U2 - Baby every dog on the street / Knows that we're in love with defeat.

All that to say, I think I'm going to have to do some serious reconstruction on both playlists in order to feel satisfied with them. the RC playlist is kind of out of my hands now ( as evidenced by my influx of Spotify followers . . . hello everyone ), but I think I can get away with organizing it and stuff with little effort.

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D WIRELESS 2024 - WEEKLY WRAP-UP #3

The third week of posting has come to an end! Enjoy catching up with this week's selection of wonderful works. 

There's a work for everyone in this fest (and if you haven't found what you're looking for yet, we're not done with posting).

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there) ❤️ And here for the YouTube playlist.

Please enjoy this week’s entries below the cut:

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 A Quiet Life [T, Digital art]

🎵 Song Prompt: A Quiet Life by Teho Teardo & Blixa Bargeld  🎵 Summary: After their relationship becomes public knowledge; after being hounded by the paparazzi; after Draco says enough is enough and leaves London; Harry’s more than happy to follow.  After all, a quiet life is all he’s ever wanted.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 I made loving you a blood sport (so let's play) [E, 3,032]

🎵 Song Prompt: Blood Sport by Sleep Token  🎵 Summary: They sat in an odd kind of silence, comfortable in its discomfort. In the predictability of its recklessness. The thing between them was as palpable as the thick smoke in the air, consumed with every breath, and likely just as bad for them.

📻 Everything that can go wrong will go wrong [T, 5,178]

🎵 Song Prompt: If You Were Mine by Leon Bridges and Miranda Lambert  🎵 Summary: “You can move in with me!”  Shit. Apparently there was still a possibility to make a fool out of himself to his crush despite his best efforts at minimizing contact. Draco and Andromeda looked at him in record speed, showing their own expressions of confusion. Maybe at his appearing out of nowhere, maybe at his panting that made it seem like he just ran a marathon for some reason, or maybe at his abrupt and impulsive suggestion. Shit. Teddy wasn’t even here to take off the edge—Harry was completely alone in this one.  After a pause, Draco fully turned to him with a manner that definitely showed his opinion of how stupid Harry was, and asked, “What?”

📻 Antelucan Ruins [E, 29,453] 

🎵 Song Prompt: Ghost by Justin Bieber  🎵 Summary: From the bloody Prophet, Draco discovers Harry Potter’s death splashed in grey ink printed on the front page. Potter is dead before Draco gets to see him again to fulfil a half-spoken promise. And yet, these days Draco has the power to bend the world to his heart’s desires, and that includes fucking Harry Potter even after he personally saw Potter’s pale, lifeless body lying in a coffin before it got buried under the soil. "Do you realise that you're just as pathetic and insane? You're so hung up on the idea of me that you'd fuck a ghost, Malfoy. You risked your life for it."  Draco puts an arm around Potter's body, "Whoever says I am sane? Certainly not me. It's calculated risk with more success rate than failure. And you are dead, Potter. You refuse to move on to the next realm because you crave for my cock."

📻 I've Been There (sitting in that same chair) [Gen, 2,212]

🎵 Song Prompt: The Village by Wrabel  🎵 Summary: People keep knocking on Draco’s door. Draco just wants to read his book (he doesn’t mind, really).  Or: Draco gets to be the supportive queer person he’d wished for when he was younger.

📻 Lonely Rivers [M, 7,370]

🎵 Song Prompt: 'Unchained Melody' by 'The Righteous Brothers'  🎵 Summary: Six years after the end of the war, Harry takes care of Teddy Lupin and has started to learn guitar. Hermione negotiates with foreign powers. Draco's a trainee Healer with a glam karaoke routine. And when Ron and Parvati decide to get married, they find a job for everyone...

📻 How to Begin [E, 8,478]

🎵 Song Prompt: Blush by Orville Peck  🎵 Summary: Harry is completely, pathetically besotted with his flatmate, Draco. Fuelled by liquid courage, he finally makes his move when he's absolutely sozzled. What could possibly go wrong?

📻 Oneiros [E, 13,125]

🎵 Song Prompt: Enter Sandman by Metallica  🎵 Summary: When contact with a weird vase traps Harry in his nightmares, it's Unspeakable Draco Malfoy's task to rescue him. In order to do so, he will have to face his past and his family history and win a duel of wits against a Morpheus and try to be better than his father each step of the way...

📻 Say When [E, 24,545]

🎵 Song Prompt: Undisclosed Desires by Muse 🎵 Summary: When Auror Harry Potter is sent in undercover to determine if Draco Malfoy is laundering money through his BDSM club, will he be able to keep up the ruse and close the case? Or, more to the point, will he keep from falling in love?

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 [Podfic] Case of You [E, 11:48:56]

🎵 Song Prompt: Case of You by Joni Mitchell  🎵 Summary: Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down.  Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

[ynscrazylife]

Hey for your 4k celebration could you do purge the poison from marina with anyone from the mcu please?

Poisoned Mind, Poisoned Heart | Chapter 1

Series Summary: Dr. Strange turns to you, Wanda’s ex, to help him stop her before it’s too late. Can you do it or will Wanda corrupt you, too?

A/N: This is what came to my head when I listened to the song! Hope it fits. I'm excited for this series to start. Let me know if you want to be on this taglist.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

Doctor Stephen Strange was the last person you expected to see when you opened up your door. For a fleeting second, you considered slamming the door in his face, but that type of rudeness was never in your nature, no matter how much the flight in your fight or flight response was yelling at you to do so. “I should really start looking through the peephole before answering my door,” was what you ended up saying with a sigh. 

Stephen fixed you with a small, knowing smile. “I’m going to pretend that’s just because I might’ve been a stranger and not because you don’t want to see me,” he joked. You knew what he was doing - trying to ease you into whatever reason he had for coming over here when he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in years with humor. 

“Well, this isn’t just you being in the neighborhood and wanting to have a nice chat, is it?” You said, glancing down at the intricate costume he adorned. 

Catching onto the fact that you didn’t want him to beat around the bush, Stephen gave you a slight nod. “May I come in?” He asked politely. 

Despite being still weary and a bit nervous, you stepped aside. You knew that if he was coming here, he must have a good reason. Years ago, after the civil war between Steve and Tony, when you left the Avengers and said goodbye to being a superhero, you had strictly instructed everyone to leave you alone unless there was some threat to the universe. You had gone back briefly to help them fight Thanos, but quickly returned to your civilian life afterward. 

Stephen walked in and you closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it. You weren’t intending for him to stay long. The sorcerer took a moment to look around your hallway, at all the paintings and photos on your walls. “Nice house,” he murmured, picking up a photo of you on a nearby table and looking at it. 

“Stephen,” you warned gently. 

Stephen cleared his throat and set down the photo, turning back to you. “What do you know about what Wanda has gotten up to recently?” He asked. 

It was akin to him dumping a bucket of ice water over your head - you visibly flinched, taken aback. Wanda. You had worked very hard to get over the woman you once loved, the love that ended due to you being on opposite sides of the Accords. Like Natasha, you had sided with Tony not because you really believed in the Accords, but because you wanted to keep the team together. Wanda hadn’t seen it that way and you didn’t exactly blame her for it, until you two started to get into awful screaming matches. 

“I heard on the news about Westview . . . They say that no one’s been able to reach or find her since,” you answered carefully, remembering the conflicting emotions you had when finding out about it all. Even after all this time, you haven't been able to fall out of love. She stuck with you. A part of you hated it, the other part was enchanted by it. You still wanted the best for her and discovering what happened in Westview was painful. 

“That was true, up until now,” Stephen said, taking a small step towards you. 

You tried to hold back the gasp building up in your throat, but you failed. All you could do was bore your eyes into him as you waited for him to continue. 

“There’s this . . . girl. Her name is America Chavez and she has these powers of accessing alternate realities that Wanda wants. I think she’s been corrupted by the Darkhold . . . If she gets access to these alternate realities, there’s no telling what she’ll do,” Stephen said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, now confused and feeling a little overwhelmed as his words swarmed your head. “Alternate realities?” You questioned. 

“I can explain everything in detail, but I think you can get through to her, Y/N,” Stephen said. 

No matter if you still loved her, if there was some deep part inside you that wanted to help, you still felt reluctant to return to that life. You started to shake your head. “She doesn’t love me, she fell in love with Vision,” you muttered, trying - wanting - to deny it. 

“She never stopped talking about you,” Stephen revealed softly. 

This caused you to squeeze your eyes shut, feelings and memories of another time washing over you all at once. “Stephen, I can’t-” you started to say. 

“Let me explain everything back at the Sanctum Sanctorum and then we can go from there,” Stephen said, his voice still as sweet as honey. So charming and alluring, “This . . . isn’t just a threat to our universe. It’s a threat to all the universes.” 

That was the nail in the coffin - you would never be able to fully rid yourself of your natural, heroic instinct to help people. “Okay,” you agreed, letting out a breath. Despite just telling yourself that you were only agreeing to hear him, you knew deep down, in your heart, what you got yourself into - you were going to try and help. Help Wanda, help Stephen, help the goddamn multiverse.

[immortalbutterflycos]

I've come to realize something important in writing. (specifically in my personal experience)

(TLDR; I have ADHD and writing is hard even though I'm still doing it every single day. Make it make sense.)

If you have a story in your head that means a lot to you, and you need to take more time to develop and fully flesh it out before posting it, that's totally okay! In fact, in my experience, it has the potential to make the story better over time, really forming it into what you imagine it to be.

Here's an example because I just typed a lot of words and right now I can't seem to process whether they make sense or not.

I have a fanfic that I've been working on for a year now. (For the Marauders fandom if y'all are curious)

It's one that I haven't talked about much because every time I do, I end up losing the motivation to write. This is what happened to another one of my fics for the Haikyuu fandom. (well that and the Marauders.. yeah they fucked me up in the best way and Freckles and Constellations has really suffered because of it smh)

So the reason why this fic is taking so long is because it is such a specific AU that I'm out here trying to meld magic systems, and I've got like EIGHT MAIN CHARACTERS to write backstories for to fit this AU while also being true to them and even though I know the basic plot, there are just so many little details and aspects that will make this fic what I desperately need it to be.

And no one knows just how intricate it is or how important it is to me. Which is totally fine. I don't even know if people are going to read it when I finally manage to post it. This fic is purely self-indulgent.

let me just break down for you what I have prepared for this already:

countless drabbles and scenes and plans written on the backs of receipts and on bits of scrap paper

a 3" 3-ring binder that I've been trying to organize it all in

a google doc titled "TAoRfOL Doc Masterlist" that has links to every single doc I have for this one fic. (it's dated back to March of last year and as of this month has 93 total links. Only 5 of those are reference links.)

notes and ideas i have written in my phone to transfer into docs so I can add them to the masterlist

Hero Forge digital models of those 8 main characters because I wanted to see what their group would look like outside of my imagination

Multiple Spotify playlists dedicated to this fic and the characters which I listen to every single day. (currently @ 494 songs)

And you know what? I just recently, at 6 am this morning, finally figured out the solution to a fucking plot hole I could not work around.

Basically what I'm saying is that I needed all of this time. Every single day I see things and get inspiration. Every day I learn new things and fix errors in my own plans.

As much as I crave the validation and recognition for all of my hard work on this project, I know that If I had just bit the bullet and posted the first chapter without having done all of this research and all of this planning, then it would not have lived up to the story I have in my head.

I admire people who can just write without all of the added steps and in some cases, I can do that. I haven't been able to in a while (which is why that Valentine's Day microfic was actually really big for me to have posted) but that's just how my brain works.

I needed all of my experiences and all of my daily thoughts and all of my collective playlists for this fic to be able to write the story I intended and that is exactly what I'm going to do.

(though if I'm being honest, this timeline is rough. I really want to just write and post this first chapter so so so bad. ToT)

[ringsidechoir]

The work of defending the assembled Pacific coasts against Kaijus should be impartial, humble, and for the greater good. Unfortunately, that work is done by people, who aren't very inclined to any of these three things. Or: Will Ospreay, Kyle Fletcher, and the Tiger Driver.

...hey, guys! i wrote a multichapter pacific rim AU fic. it's the longest single thing i've ever completed. i don't know what got into me. it's inspired by @aerodaltonimperial and @freshlyhooked's fic drift compatible which is amazing and heartwrenching and sold me on AU fics. will and kyle were mentioned for like 10% of the fic and i pointed at them and went "What's going on there."

so, shake tramp was born. below the cut is, borrowed from an out-of-fandom friend, my liner notes! thoughts about what i included, my process, some funny lines i said while losing my mind writing this thing, reasonings, and the moments i took and changed from canon. here there be spoilers! ...for my fic! ...and i guess wrestledream?

let's start with the title! it's taken from shake tramp by the canadian band marianas trench, off their first album. my friend irl is a superfan of this band, so we'd went to go see them twice on their latest tour, and got VIP tickets both times which allowed us into a Q&A segment! one of the questions asked of the lead singer-songwriter was something along the lines of "are there any songs that were received differently than you thought it would by the fans?" his reply, paraphrased, was: "shake tramp is actually a serious song. when we'd been looking around for a music label, none we contacted would accept us with two of the original members of the band. and we kept being like, no, fuck you, take us all, but we kept asking, and it kept being the same. so we let them go. i wrote this song talking to myself, calling myself a sellout and a whore. ...and then it was really catchy, and our music video for it is silly, but it's a serious song."

so i thought of kyle. wanting to keep his integrity and his best friend, but just not being able to.

Did I let you down to get that sound?

they slap you like a bitch and you take it like a whore.

my fic-writing style is usually to stick to canon and fill out the lacunae around it, and that ended up being no different with shake tramp. which is wild. CHAPTER ONE

chapter one's kaiju fight and the argument with will and kenny are taken from the same night; 8/24/22. it's the trios title tournament before all out '22-- united empire defeats death triangle. the kaiju is named stonehitch because it turns out that the death triangle is also a rock-climbing anchor that actually sucks and does its job terribly. a stone hitch is a similar anchor that... kind of has the same problem, but not really. i never said these names were clever. as for the argument: here it is in its canon form.

"I gave you the impossible task of filling my shoes. But maybe I shouldn't've given you a pair of shoes when you still haven't grown out of your diapers."

REAL LINE. other assorted details: - i'd mentioned in the comments of ch1, but the whole thing about decompression sickness at the beginning is real! in will ospreay's close up with renee paquette, she's talking to him about what planes do to HER body, and how she can't imagine how will feels, with what he does for a living. will starts his reply with, "i'm constantly in pain," and then goes on to say that the plane ride actually ends up meditative and peaceful. but i was like Ah. Yay. A bad thing occurring - marshal omega's medals are meant to parallel his belts in his belt collector run. callis goes right to straightening them. - will is weirdly drift-compatible with a lot of people, but i end up only mentioning okada here in the rainmaker. aussie open is its own jaeger, and so's united empire! will only starts using the tiger driver as a move after he came back from wrestle kingdom 17-- where will gets his ass thoroughly handed to him by kenny.

CHAPTER TWO

chapter two starts with mark breaking his wrist 10/01/23. yes, we've timeskipped pretty far. i cannot thank gh0st-patr0l enough for the kyle fletcher correspondence, which helped me get this as close to canon as it could've been! kyle doesn't start out as a singles guy. after mark breaks his wrist, will puts in a good word for kyle with callis, who teams him up with takeshita. when kyle eats the pin in their match with [shaky sigh] kenny omega and chris jericho, callis pits takeshita and kyle against each-other. that's what the second half of the spar scene is; 10/27/23. here that is. after the match, kyle gets so mad that he takes a chair to hobbs and takeshita's backs-- and callis says that's exactly what he wants. and yes, he DOES cradle kyle's face like a weird bald pervert.

additional details: - kyle does put on a lot of muscle after joining the DCF. i wistfully and artfully smoke a cigarette. - "the manchester" is a real restaurant. no, i haven't been to it, but i looked around on google maps for restaurants near LAX and it looked fine enough. i love to put wrestlers in restaurants that are real. - kyle immediately thinks that will's problems in tokyo are stemming from the other pilots. they're not, it's the kaiju causing problems, but the fact that kyle's mind doesn't jump to the kaiju first is... callis's influence. - for will, this is after the AU's equivalent of wrestle kingdom 17. he's not having a great time, but he's not telling anyone this. - welcome to ~march 2024! kenny has been out for three months. the bucks are already the sole EVPs-- i mean, co-marshals. - i jostled the order a little, but the sparring's all based off of matches will has in the ~early days of him being full-fledged in the DCF. vs hobbs, vs takeshita, vs kyle. - will's drift scene in this chapter is supposed to also be from wrestle kingdom 17. it really got to me, okay. kyle's is from just earlier in this chapter! - the kaiju they fight in this chapter is... uh, not seen, but it's supposed to be MJF. heatseeker is one of his finishers. will's feud with MJF ends up being about the tiger driver (move), so i thought it was perfect! after-fight dialogue taken largely from this clip, post kyle vs MJF.

CHAPTER THREE

this is the chapter post drift-compatible! we're now in the august-september 2024 season. despite this, will's conversation with callis is lightly taken from this clip in july. the kaiju fight is based off of will & kyle vs the young bucks at grand slam-- the kaiju's name taken... loosely from the arena they held grand slam in? arthur ashe? flash... bang? whatever. kyle's drift scene is from the equivalent of the MJF match, and will's is also from the above-linked clip. the kaiju's gimmick came to me in a dream. i made it up. it can't be hit by plasma weapons! and will's panic is from specifically chapter 7 of drift compatible, his side of being flung around after the EMP.

and the screwdriver. in the match, callis slips kyle a screwdriver to attack a buck with. to win the match. will stops him. it's proven to kyle, now, that he has to choose between his friend and his success.

ricochet is here! i can't believe i'm the first guy on ao3 to write and tag ricochet. their spar is loosely based off of their match, including takeshita's interruption at the end of it.

additional details - stamford is a WWE reference and i thought it was funny. - one of the people will drifted with in his little, for lack of a better term, time spent drifting around: bryan danielson! the legend! yup, this is dynasty 2024, one of my favorite matches of all time. the tiger driver (move) isn't alt'ed as dropping someone on their head, it's a headbutt, with most pilots in the head of their jaegers. usually, it's safe. sometimes, it isn't. that risk should not have been taken with brittle bones bryan. bonus: his jaeger is the american dragon, and his copilot is nigel mcguinness, who is so, so incandescently pissed that bryan got to name the jaeger, that bryan is more popular, that bryan got all the fame and nigel got benched. - takeshita grabs will's bad wrist.

CHAPTER FOUR

i had brutus (instrumental) on while writing half this chapter and i got really scared so i had to turn it off. kyle and callis's conversation comes from this clip, which is after this conversation between will and callis, where kyle couldn't take a screwdriver to will's head. the will-callis convo is later reused in the drift scenes!

kenny is officially out of the picture 5/1/24. the bucks and callis are doing some shady dealings. is anyone surprised.

the kaiju fight in this chapter is actually based off of will vs ricochet vs takeshita at wrestledream 2024! the name akiyama is taken from the innovator of the blue thunder bomb, jun akiyama-- the blue thunder bomb being, of course, takeshita's finisher. i was about to name it blue thunder, but i wanted takeshita to be a pilot in this fic, and not a kaiju. i kept all of these names pretty vague and distant from their wrestler-counterparts on purpose. the drift scenes are... oof. - will-callis conversation, mentioned above. will tries to show kyle this to shake his loyalty, but it doesn't work. - kyle's POV of the first will-kenny convo in chapter one. kyle seeing will as hotheaded and disrespectful. - will-kenny copiloting tiger driver in the equivalent of forbidden door '23, where in-canon will hits kenny with the tiger driver and solidifies his allegiance to don callis. showing kyle that will is just as bad, and just as petty. - the kyle-callis conversation from earlier this chapter. will forcibly redirects into a new memory because he cares, because he doesn't want to see kyle vulnerable and berated - and their first meeting. this is taken loosely from kyle fletcher's close up, where kyle tells renee his first meeting with will is unplaceable in either of their minds but definitely making fun of another wrestler. will wants this to be a reminder of their bond, but kyle reduces this to: "he'll always see me as that scrawny kid."

additional details: - i slipped in a PWG mention with the battle of los angeles line. i think i'm very funny. - private party have the same chest missiles that the actual jaeger in pacific rim, striker eureka, does! shots, shots, shots! - kyle does to will what the tiger driver does to monsters. headbutt. at the end of the match at wrestledream, kyle tiger-drivers will. - there's a really nice visual parallel between the pacific rim circuitry suits and the graphic kyle walks out to.

serendipitous.

CHAPTER FIVE (epilogue)

bet we all forgot about mark, right? he's back! he comes back 10/30/24, on fright night dynamite. his conversation with kyle and his conversation with will are, of course, also based off real conversations he has.

the end! i'm sure i have reasoning for like 90% of the things that happen in this fic, and my askbox is always open. thank you for reading :3

[darcytaylor]

*sigh* Sis, we are going through it, aren't we? I've actually had to take the week off work because I'm simply out of it. I've been focusing on making seasonal food and drinks, getting cozy around the house and doing fun and relaxing activities. The colors of the trees outside are gorgeous and there's nothing like the sound of the gently falling rain to ground you. I'm going to be decorating for the holidays soon. It's important to remember that there are still good things in the world.

Personally, the majority of the fandom's output hasn't been for me since ~June since I'm not interested in shipping real people, so I've stuck to corners of cute Polin content and reasoned analysis (like your blog 💕). I love watching Polin edits, I've discovered so many great songs that way. I tried fics but I'm usually so mentally exhausted by the end of the day that I just don't have the bandwidth for reading. I revisited Notting Hill because Luke was talking about it so much, and there's a scene that I think the last drink one in the show is a reference to, so I thought that was cute. I've also been making my way through My Lady Jane (which is a very good show, I recommend) and one of the characters has a full suit made out of the same fabric as Colin's green/brown waistcoat that he wore when he and Pen were promenading and he was trying to teach her how to flirt, so that was also cute. For people who need that friends-to-lovers itch scratched, there's a really raunchy romcom called Zack and Miri Make a Porno that I love, it's a riot (though certain aspects of it haven't aged perfectly), just don't watch it with family 😅.

Take care of yourselves and don't let the bastards ground you down, we shall overcome 💪.

I'm glad you were able to take a week off to recharge and focus on the little things that bring you joy. Sometimes that’s exactly what we need to regroup and move forward. I love this time of year, too - the leaves changing colours is such a beautiful, fleeting moment. I just wish it lasted longer! Before I know it, winter will be here, and I’ll have to bring out my winter jacket, uggghhh!

I understand where you’re coming from with the fandom. I’m not a shipper either, and it can make it hard to fully connect with certain corners. But I really appreciate the people who follow me and engage with my posts, no matter where they stand (for the most part) - it means a lot! It’s so nice to hear you enjoy my posts and analyses - so thank you for that.

I haven’t delved into fanfics yet either, but as an avid reader, I know I’d probably fall down that rabbit hole fast! I usually read on my way to work too, and I’m not sure I’d want to dive into fanfics during my commute - it might be a bit much first thing in the morning! 😂

I tried My Lady Jane, but it didn’t quite click with me. Maybe I’ll give it another shot at some point - I tend to stick to rewatching shows I already know and love. BTVS, Shameless, Bridgerton - to name a few. They are my comfort shows and I tend to stick with them.

Take care of yourself, and thank you for the message! It’s always nice to connect with someone who gets it. ❤️