#daybreak scribbles

[daybreak-mun]

Team Prism

Since the last time I played Super, I played through as Riolu and Fennekin, I wanted to go through it again, this time with a bit of a twist: bringing in the Dragon-type starter from Gates, at the same time as the introduction of the Fairy type.

My character is dedicating all of their energy into keeping Madeline on track.

[phantomguild]

(@shaymincafe) Shiso @ Nameless: You mentioned that your designation was "Monarch Experiment 01". What exactly was this experiment? Does it have anything to do with that crown on your head?

Nameless sat at the top of the gate to the center of the hexagon, the main base of operations for the Phantom Guild. The crystals powering the barrier gave off a blue light, ready to become active at a moment's notice. Their gaze turned down towards the purple-hued Shaymin, thinking over her question.

"It was a series of experiments to create a weapon capable of autonomously eradicating Hollow Pokémon. I was created with a unique ability: replication, of physical forms, and the power of the Aspects." They turned their gaze away to look over one of their paws, turning it over from front to back.

"This Kantonian Vulpix form is one of the forms that was pre-programmed into my being. It's the one that I personally find most comfortable, so I tend to favor this one."

"As for my butterfly symbol, the 'crown' you speak of. It's little more than a symbol of what I am. No matter what form I'm in, I always have the mark of the butterfly, since a flap of its wings is said to be capable of bringing great change."

They rolled off the backside of the gate, landing on their paws and kicking up a small puff of dirt. "Though whether or not I'll bring the good kind of change is up in the air right now."

[daybreak-rps]

Was feeling a bit inspired after listening to Bolt's soundtrack and while writing replies, so I figure I'd do a quick doodle of Barkley finding the swiss shepherd passed out on the grass.

... Pretty normal way to end up on New Wirral, all things considered.

@bluestar-of-thunderclan / @scperbark

[phantomguild]

Was debating with myself on which one to draw for quite a while. Eventually, I settled on Mint since at the time, it'd probably be easier for me to work with her and I'd be able to get something out without straining my back too hard.

Anyway, Anti Mint is similar to someone like Echo, is overconfident in her ability and strength. She'd typically take threats lightly and would fight with full intent to do as much damage as possible, even if it means killing.

Though I have no idea how history could change for her to end up like this. Perhaps if her egg was left out in the wilderness instead of being found by Silas? Idk, I'm at the point of the night where I just want to faceplant into my bed.

(No post because I’ve been busy so instead I’m doing a drawing challenge with you.

Invert the colours of your character and turn them into the opposite version of what your character is like. You can adjust the colours to make them more appealing if you like!

Here’s Anti Destino.

They’re shy, hate dealing with others and is not very good at taking care of themselves. Probably gets bullied by others a lot.

Destino: Um…Hi… Oh gosh, I hope I don’t scare you. I’m sorry…

I’d love to see your creations! Use the tag #anti oc meme and I’ll share them on here!)

[baylardian-1]

Don't you dare forget the sun, love

[nancyheart11]

Here we have Daybreak from @ladye-zelda's Linksmeet!

Happy Birthday Ladye, may this handsome lad be a welcome token for your personal sun rotation <3

[vixenihy]

Late Night Guilt

Summary: A few months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, Jack is still facing the stressful aftermath and his survivors guilt from the war certainly isn’t helping either. Just when he feels he’s out of luck, someone he loves dearly is there to help.

Tags/Notes + Pairing: jfk x jackie kennedy, hurt/comfort?, swearing, mentions of past infidelity, antiquated beliefs about emotions, stress, anxiety.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: this is my first fic! i’m not super experienced with writing jackie, i fear. but i noticed that there aren’t any jfk x jackie fics so i wanted to change that. i love these two, lol. the indents may be a bit off bc i wrote this on my phone and used the spacebar as substitutes for indents… sorry lol. the banner was made by me, and the border below belongs to @/menschenopfer !

God Damnit…

Jack lets out a quiet groan of frustration, biting his cheek and hoping that the interviewer didn’t hear him. He’d forgotten to take the medication for managing his nerves. Not like he can remember what it’s called, though. There's too many names to even begin to remember what the Hell it’s called.

The past few months have been nothing but stress; Paper after paper and interview after interview. It’s a total mess, and it’s his fault. The Cuban Missile Crisis was the closest the world came to ending; but who started this beginning to the end? Well, Jack blames no one but himself. He can barely resist the urge to tap his teeth with his fingers in front of the camera focusing on his face.

“Mr. President, after the close call with the Soviet Union and Cuba, a handful of Americans are curious about your story that led to you earning your Purple Heart. We know there is a movie coming out later this year, but would you care to give a little of your own personal perspective?” The interviewer asks. Jack clenches his jaw and tightly interlocks his fingers as a heavy pang hits his heart. The last thing Jack wants to be reminded of is the people who he failed to protect, the two people who died because of him. He can feel the guilt eating away at him as he speaks, his voice just as calm as his face.

“Oh, there isn’t much to say. They sank my boat, and we were stranded for a while. Then with the help of some of the natives, the Navy came and saved me and my crew.” Jack explains calmly, ignoring the burning hot fire, hours of pulling men to the boat, screaming the names of the men he’d lost till daybreak. The swimming, vomiting, starvation, the close calls with death, and the terrible guilt he faces to this day. He left out all of it. No one will know how he felt that day, because Kennedys don’t show how they feel. A real Kennedy never cracks.

Jack snaps back to reality just as the interviewer finishes scribbling his notes.

“Thank you Mr. President.”

—————

“Bunny, it’s okay if you want to talk…You know I'm here for you, don’t you?” Jackie presses as she helps to massage her husband's back. Usually, she wouldn’t press too much into his day and his issues as she believed it wasn’t right to bring up the stress of the day right after it had ended, but Jackie noticed how stressed he looked and how upset he seemed to be when she saw a glimpse of him when he was alone. It worries her. And though he had hurt her in the past with his philandering behavior, she knows why he acts the way he does and how he’s doing his best to change. So, she decides to focus on the future rather than the past.

“I know, Jackie…But I'm fine. It’s just that work is stressful. That’s all.” Jack sighs, laying his head in his arms and closing his eyes as Jackie helps to work the stress out of his body. He wishes that he could tell Jackie all about his day and vent his frustrations, but he finds himself biting his tongue. Men don’t talk about their feelings, especially not a Kennedy man. He can hear his parents chastising him in the back of his mind for even having such a thought. So, he just decides to let it go and switch the conversation.

“Thank you for helping me with my back, Kid…It’s been killing me for the past month. I think picking up Caroline at Christmas really aggravated it.” He continues, turning his head back ever so slightly to look at her. Jackie looks so beautiful with the dim lamp shining behind her, illuminating her figure like an angel. He doesn’t deserve her, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s alright, Jack. You certainly made her day.” She whispers with a chuckle, glancing into his faded green eyes and watching them spark with life, the Jack Kennedy she knows and loves seems to finally come to life.

——

The crackle of fire and the smell of oil taints the air as Jack slowly opens his eyes, groaning in agony as his back spasms. He goes to grab the nightstand, but only finds a cold metal surface beneath his hand. He stumbles as he pulls himself into a standing position, opening his eyes at last. His heart drops as he realizes where he is. He’s over a thousand miles from home, he’s in the same place he fought like Hell to escape from, he’s back.

The South Pacific.

Following the same routine he’s done a hundred times before, Jack leaps off the side of the creaking bow and swims out towards the voices of his crew. They scream and cry out for their skipper and their mothers, a haunting sound he’s listened to too many times before. Just as he’s about to reach one man, he sees a head disappear below the waves. Gasping with fear, Jack dives below the waves and claws his way downwards, the darkness of the sea making it impossible for Jack to see the face of the man he’s trying to save. But just as he reaches out, he slips out of his reach. And he helplessly watches the figure disappear into the dark abyss.

Jack awakes with a start, jolting to find himself back in the luxurious bedroom he’s lived in for the past few years. He sits up gently, bringing himself back to the present with a deep sigh. Attempting to alleviate his back pain, Jack brings his knees to his chest and lies his head on his arms. A tightness settles in his heart as guilt festers in his mind. He forces back a few tears as he remembers one of the hardest experiences of his life. Just before any tears begin to break through, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Jack?” Jackie asks groggily, confused to see her husband awake so late. “What’s the matter, Bunny?” Wiping his eyes with his hand, Jack lies down onto his back.

“It’s nothing, Jackie. Just a bad dream is all…” He sighs, turning over onto his side.

“Go back to sleep, Kid. It’s alright..” Jack mutters. But before he can allow himself to drift off, he feels Jackie's arms wrap around him and hold him close to her body. At first, he seems uncomfortable by the touch his wife is giving him. It feels so foreign and uncomfortable. But as the seconds pass, he finds himself warming up to it…

“Maybe we can get away to Hyannis Port on Saturday. No press, no people, no work…Just us. It’ll be cold, but I think you need a break.” Jackie suggests, placing a kiss on her husband's neck and rubbing her thumb over his hand.

“I love you, Bunny.” She sighs, cuddling closer to Jack.

“I love you too, Jackie.” Jack smiles, shutting his eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep.

[hannie-dul-set]

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?)

p — CHOI SOOBIN x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor, lovestruck! soobin being a little dummy. w — drinking, swearing. 1.2k words.

note — heavily based on the manhwa “daybreaking romance" (soob as dong saebyeok ifykyk 😩). won second place in the poll (wdym we've been dating for 2 months??) so here u go!

the last thing soobin remembers after blacking out last night is the look in your eyes that nearly pulls him back into sobriety.

nearly, because he still wakes up on his living room rug the next morning, a burn on his cheek, without the recall how the fuck he got home, without a hint of what happened in between the blurry moments of now and seeing you outside the bar last night. the icy breeze still feels raw on his skin. the conflict in your eyes as his consciousness slips is still vivid in his memory.

choi soobin has become one with the rug, unable to lift his head up in shame and horror, until he remembers he still has an afternoon class to attend and the possibility of having made a fool out of himself in front of his ongoing, unrequited first love while he was drunk off his rockers isn’t a viable excuse for an absence.

“did you get home safe last night?”

the scribbles in his head become even more tangled up when you greet him in the classroom with a pleasant smile. “i think my head is gonna split open,” you say, taking the seat next to him, and soobin is looking at you with wide, unblinking eyes. “what’s up?”

“why...why are you here…?” is his chosen question, not did i do something stupid last night? nor will you forgive me for blacking out in front of you last night? 

you reply by cocking your head. “am not allowed to sit here?”

“of— of course you are.” shit, you’re too cute, soobin thinks to himself all in the midst of racking his brain as to what the fuck did he do last night, and why the fuck did you decide to sit next to him when prior to last night, you two have only been close enough to exchange greetings in the hallways, return smiles during unexpected meetups at the campus cafe, and text each other when you’re assigned group work.

“so, where do you want to eat?”

“huh?” he blinks at you.

“what?” you look up at him after fixing your things, ready to leave the lecture room. “how about hangover soup? that sounds good, doesn’t it?”

choi soobin believes that there are still remnants of last night’s insobriety in his system because the back of your head looks fuzzy as you tug on his sleeve down the hallway, the voice you’re speaking with sounds far away and before he knows it, you’re having lunch with him. watching a  movie with him. riding the bus with him. taking photos with him. doing assignments with him for the next thirty days with the haunting unsettlement that the key to your sudden friendliness might have been lost along with his memories that night.

“maybe they feel bad for you,” yeonjun pitches after soobin finally confides about his overdue dilemma. “you know, you can get pretty emotional when you’re wasted. maybe you cried in front of them and they think it’s their fault so they’re trying to console you. why don’t you just come clean and admit you can’t remember?”

like a punch to the jaw, a memory flashes through a film reel— a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. and your face blurred by cloudy tears and unmistakable sniffles from his own person. 

“oh my god.”

if being pathetic was a crime, choi soobin would’ve been locked up in jail ages ago.

the thing is, coming clean was soobin’s plan before everything spiraled into daily lunch meet-ups and nightly texts. at some point, he lost the timing to come clean and apologize, but you’re asking him if he’s free this weekend because you got for lotte world, so maybe you don’t find him annoying for pathetically crying his eyes put in front of you, right?

then again, maybe yeonjun was right. maybe you’re only doing all of this to make him feel better. but consolation usually doesn’t last for a month and a half (and his heart shouldn’t be fluttering when he watches you scream in delight, arms tossed in the air as you swing back and forth on the viking ride. soobin knows he’s a piece of shit for not having apologized yet. but you look so pretty smiling at him so often, so dazzling when you laugh at something he says, so breathtaking when you’re doing absolutely nothing that he’s tempted to live in eternal ignorance if it means loving you a little closer).

“soobin.” 

your voice hits like a reality check, two months since his drunken mistake. “i know you’ve been meaning to tell me something. you can just say it.”

and just like that, the dream he’s been living in is bound to dissolve into reality one day. his saliva feels like gasoline when he tries to swallow down the guilt, but it only bursts into flames and swallows him like an inevitable forest fire. “nevermind,” you sigh. “i know what you’re going to say anyway.”

soobin is so used to your daily smiles that his heart wrenches when you reveal somberness for the first time.

“you want to break up, right?”

but when the fire burns out, what remains are ashes of confusion.

“what?”

“it feels like nothing has changed before and after we started dating. you won’t even let me hold your hand! i’m sorry for not meeting your expectations. you don’t have to keep forcing yourself to be with me.”

“h—huh?” soobin blinks. “when— when did we start dating?”

you’re looking at him like he’s insane. “soobin, i confessed to you two months ago.”

then it hits him.

“don’t you remember?”

like sudden rainfall in the middle of summer.

a cold, prickly breeze. streetlights illuminating the crack behind the restaurant. you’re there in front of him, so pretty and lovely and cute and your words fly above his head because, “you’re so pretty. you’re always so pretty. why are you so pretty?” and his knees start shaking when your laughter bursts carbonated bubbles in the air, putting his drunken rambles to a halt.

“soobin do you like me? because i like you. i don’t think i can settle with just hello’s and greetings. i just like you a lot,” your words settle in his ears, slowly, surely. “what about you?”

suddenly, his cheeks are wet.

“oh no— i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

“i like you so much i could cry right now.” he already is. he’s crying as much as he likes you. he’s crying out the feelings he’s been collecting for the past year and in the form of plump tears rolling down his blushing face and shaking hands holding onto yours so gently and earnestly because he’s afraid if he holds you too tight, you might disappear into thin air.

but it’s his memories that disappeared. choi soobin wants to tear his face off but even that wouldn’t be enough of a repentance.

“you can punch me if you want.”

he’s so in love with you that he remembers the color of the shirt you wore on his birthday last year, but he forgot the most important moment of all his twenty-two years of existence. the shirt was purple, like his arm after you took on his offer for violent retribution. it’s alright because he deserved it. it’s alright because you kissed right after. 

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER DRINK BEYOND YOUR LIMITS (OR MAYBE YOU SHOULD?) © hannie-dul-set.

[suguwu]

kita + a stork conservationist who comes to the paddies. your smile is a small thing, but it's bright, the curve of the horizon. you watch the storks for hours, devoted to their elegant, snow-white forms.

you go at daybreak, wading into the paddies and already scribbling notes. the storks prowl just beyond, their beaks flashing silver, needlepoint things. the mist rises around you; it smears the edges of you, makes you something more.

and kita—kita watches you.

you're visible from the road most mornings. he slows down without thinking when he sees you; you glance up at the rumble of his truck and give him a little wave. he raises his hand back, and then the storks steal your attention again.

one day, he thinks, he'll break his routine.

one day, he'll stop.

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family Animation Art Book scans - part 2

Today I'm back with a few more scans from the Animation Art Book! If you haven't seen the first page of scans I made from this book, click here. Since many of the character design pages in this book are similar to the ones from the cour 1 season 1 artbook, I'm mostly going to skip these, so be sure to check out the previous scans here and here if you haven't already!

While the main feature of the book is character and setting designs, it also contains a lot of miscellaneous, "niche" images that only briefly show in the anime but are interesting if you stop and look at them. One of my favorites is of course Loid and Yor's (fake) marriage certificate and the doctored up photos in their living room. Obviously WISE/Twilight must have some advanced photo editing technology since Photoshop shouldn't exist when the series takes place 😅

Next is some examples of Anya's handwriting and schoolwork, as well as the cipher she and Yor make in mission 20. It's a bit hard to make out, but it looks like she spelled her name "Ania" in the mission 4 example but maybe started spelling it the right way in the mission 24 example? As for those notes at the top from mission 20...is that Bond in the lower right corner? 😂 I can just about make out the first question on the mission 4 paper - it says "Solve if you can understand the clock." The rest says something like "When * will * two hours * effect the current time?" And it looks like her answer is..."Time"? 😅

In contrast, here's some examples of Damian's tests that Daybreak tampered with in mission 18. I'm not gonna bother to check if his math is correct...I'm assuming all or most of it is! I also couldn't help but notice his answer on the cake question, "How many cakes are left?" - instead of just putting "4" he writers out, "There are 4 left." What an overachiever 🤣

Here's a few more scribbles from Anya's notebook, but more interestingly, the Eden schedule of classes. I wonder what the class "Theme" is. And they have to share a poem every morning? I'm surprised we haven't seen one of Anya's poems yet!

And lastly, I wanted to share two character pages for Bond and Fiona since they're didn't feature in the previous book.

[daybreak-mun]

Champions of Dusk and Dawn

[phantomguild]

Fanart Friday Wheel!

Featuring @pokege-ne-project, @askdeoxys, @ask-enchantingdelights, @askpokemoncrossover, @askwornhearts, @ask-a-learning-ai, @harmonia-university, and @ask-diane!

[not-a-space-alien]

Desperate Daybreak Chapter 7

In this chapter: The tangled, asinine logistics of the situation catch up with Valen.

MMSS masterpost

DD masterpost

On AO3

***

Valen missed his cat terribly.  Maybe he could arrange to have her brought here, or go get her himself.  It was looking more and more like they were going to be here for a while, and the manor was a great place to have a cat.  She always allowed herself to be subjected to him holding her and crying into her flank, and he could really use that right now.  Instead, he had to make do with the historical cat plushie that'd seen him through many hard times.  It wasn’t the same.

And ten years was a significant portion of a cat’s lifespan, even moreso than for a human.

Valen spent the rest of the evening doing nothing in particular with Lex and Ari.  Seeing the two of them astonished and happy in luxury unthinkable for them was helping his self-esteem, although whenever they had to go into the human quarters for anything it made him feel like shit.

The responsibility of his position was starting to creep up on him.  The executive manager of the blood processing network had called him to ask for a meeting, which Valen only found out when Callidora came to find him and tell him so.  She’d handed him a notepad with a scribble written on it saying the manager was scheduled to come by at 2AM tonight.

Who had managed Priscus’s schedule for him?  Did he have a planner or something to keep track of all his appointments?  Or did the oft-abused manor staff shepherd him to appointments in the sitting room?  Valen couldn’t remember.  He’d usually been dismissed when Priscus had business meetings.  He remembered Priscus’s butler coming in to tell him he had meetings.  The closest equivalent Valen had was his handmaid, but Callidora certainly didn’t do scheduling of any kind.

“Callidora, does Priscus’s butler still work at the manor?”

Calidora curtsied.  “No, Mistress.  He quit after Pricus passed away.”

Valen briefly swam through a torrent of thoughts about if the butler, of all people, could have been the one responsible for the murders.  “Who typically keeps track of meetings and things like that?  Am I to do it myself?  I don’t recall Priscus doing much of that himself.”

“No, Mistress, the butler kept track of scheduling.”

“Ah, I see.”  Valen thought very hard and walked back down the hallway, to where Lex and Ari were sitting at an end table.  “I suppose I’ll have to hire someone to help with that, otherwise I’ll be spending all day every day on the phone scheduling things.”  He did remember that if Priscus didn’t start turning down requests to meet, his nights would be basically booked back to back, which always made him cranky… Valen was bracing himself for the onslaught of things to do that came with being a very important person.  He’d been so focused on saving the humans that he’d completely forgotten to think about it until now.

But he owned the estate now.  He had to be in charge of it.

He stopped in front of Lex and Ari.  “Where is Tessie?  I’d like to have a conversation with the four of us before the network manager gets here.”

“I can do it.”

Valen blinked and turned back to Callidora.  “Erm, what was that?”

“I can keep track of your scheduling,” Callidora offered eagerly.  “You don’t need to hire someone new.  You don’t seem to need, er, a handmaiden to help bathe and dress and- and whatever now, since you’re a man now.  Right?  So, so I can do the majordomo duties for you.”

Valen smiled.  “That’s a wonderful idea, Callidora.  Go ahead, then.”

Callidora bounced.  “I’ll do such a good job, mistress!  I’ll stay by your side and keep track of everything for you!  Don’t you worry!”

“Thank you, dear.  Ah, now here she is.”  Tessie came around the corner with an opaque glass jug, sipping from it.  “Tessie, I’d like to talk with you about something, please.”

Tessie held the bottle aloft.  “It must be that I’m not drinking the esteemed liquid rubies produced by the Kithrara dynasty!” she said with mock horror.  “Forgive me, Master Kithrara!  I’ll only drink the most violently-produced blood from now on!  No more imported blood for me!”

Valen laughed a little despite himself.  “No, Tessie, please drink the ethically sourced blood by all means.  Can we move to the study?”

The mess Eleanor had left in the study had been cleaned up–when had that happened?  The servants must have done it without Valen telling them to.  The fact that the housekeeping staff went out of their way to avoid being seen made Valen feel like the house was infested with shy but helpful gnomes that only came out when he was asleep.  He would have to make sure he signed their paychecks, or whatever–he didn’t remember what Priscus had to do to employ the staff.  Bossing them around had theoretically been Valen’s job, as the mistress of the house, but he’d barely ever cared and they seemed to know what to do on their own.

Valen passed by the holes in the wall left by the quills that had been pulled out, sitting at the desk chair and taking out a piece of paper.  “All right.  Business!  Yes, we’re in the study to do business.  Haha!”

“I assume you want to talk about what to say to the harvest web manager?” Tessie said.

Valen nodded.  “I’m… more of a laboratory person.  I’m hopelessly out of my depth.”

“Us even moreso,” Ari said.  “Sorry if we mostly just listen.”

“Right, that’s why I’m here.”  Tessie nodded and took the other seat at the desk.  “So, if I understand it correctly, the harvest network manager is the one who like… runs the blood farms and the hunters.”

At first Valen struggled to figure out why a vampire would be in charge of vampire hunters, before he realized Tessie was talking about literally hunting–the ones that made the trip into human territory to snatch people up and bring them back to feed the processing facilities.  “Oh,” Valen said, making a face.  “The ones who work at the processing facilities are the worst.  Can we just fire him?”

Tessie smiled awkwardly.  “Um…  Probably not.”

Valen put his hand on his chin.  “So we probably have to figure out how to tell him we’re simply going to be releasing all the humans, then.  I’m sure he won’t like that.”

Tessie jiggled her pen, bit her lip, and said, “Ah…”

Valen sensed he’d said something wrong.  “...That is our goal, right?” Valen said, floundering for confirmation he hadn’t made too many assumptions.  “We’re on the same page?  Since humans are people and all?  And it’s wrong to hurt them?”

Tessie flopped her folder shut.  “Right.  Yes.  No, yes, that’s our goal.  Um… I think you might be underestimating how much work it’s going to take to get to that point, though.”

“What?  Come on now, I’m in charge of the estate.  I have the legal right to return them to where they belong.  I know it’s going to be a huge undertaking to connect them with their families, but-”

“That’s not what I mean.”  Tessie leaned her head on her hand.  “Um, how do I put this…  Yes, it’s wrong to keep them here.  But… they’re providing all the blood that feeds basically the entire population.  The Kithrara estate has a near-total monopoly on domestically-produced blood.  If we just suddenly up and stop producing it, the thousands of vampires that depend on the family for daily blood meals will suddenly have nothing to drink.”

“What?” Valen said, getting frustrated.  “I mean, yes, but they’ll manage, I’m sure.”

Tessie put her hand to her forehead, like she was in the process of realizing this was going to be a harder conversation than she thought.

“Shit,” Lex said.  “No, she’s right, Valen.  Think about it.  You know what vampires are like.  What are they going to do if the blood supply they depend on suddenly dries up?”

“They’ll start assaulting human territory en-masse,” Ari said.  “It’ll be way, way worse than how it is right now.”

Valen gripped his hair.  “But they’re my humans and it’s wrong to own them because they’re people and not livestock, and I want to be a good person and a good person doesn’t own people.”

“A good person also doesn’t plunge society into total chaos that results in even more bloodshed,” Ari offered.

“Your idealism is admirable,” Tessie said.  “But we have to be practical.  We can maneuver this in such a way that we free them eventually, but we have to set up a replacement food supply first if we want it to be a meaningful, lasting change.”

Valen shifted in his seat, agitated.  “Well, why can’t everyone just drink the imported blood?”

“You know the supply isn’t nearly large enough to support everyone.  You’ve been in the specialty stores.”

“Well why can’t we just import more?  Surely there must be a way to make it work.”

“We can work towards that, but it’s going to be expensive to set up that infrastructure.  There hasn’t historically been much demand to support shipping over larger volumes.  We’re also going to have to negotiate with the blood suppliers overseas that collect it ethically–they only have access to a limited supply bottlenecked by volunteer donors, so they’re only willing to share so much of it, as I understand it.”

“Well, we have all the estate’s money at our disposal now.  I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Tessie took a deep breath.

“Slow down, Valen,” Ari said.  “Clearly Tessie has more experience with this than you do, so you should defer to her expertise.”

“I can’t stand having this stain on my soul,” Valen cried.  “Come on, I need to feel less monstrous!”

Gritting her teeth, Tessie pulled a spreadsheet full of numbers from elsewhere on the desk.  “Valen, do you see this?  The budget for the manor house?  The budget for the harvest web?  For the distribution facilities?  The projections on supply and purchasing in stores?  There are hundreds of thousands of people involved in this, and none of them care about your feelings.  Including the people who are depending on you to right the massive wrong that has been done to them.  Including the people depending on you to feed them without having to abduct and torture an innocent person.”

“She's right, I think,” Lex said with a grimace.  “It's hard, but I guess we have to be practical.”

“Realistically you’re doing all you can,” Ari said.  “Sucks, but it’s how it is.”

Tears welled in Valen’s eyes.  He knew they were right, and he had to be practical, but it just felt like they were all being mean to him for no reason in this moment.  He was so perpetually guilty he could barely function when he owned zero humans.

“We could try my artificial blood,” he mumbled.  The thing he was chronically shy about bringing up, for fear of being laughed at.

“Yes!” Lex said.  “Valen’s been working really hard on a formula for artificial blood!  He’s been drinking it himself, even!  I’m sure we could use that to supplement the real blood, right?”

Tessie tapped her pencil.  “You’ve been making… artificial blood?”

He nodded.  “It’s… getting there.  It’s still in development.  It’s–I don’t know if it’ll really work, but we could try at least, right?”

“Okay,” Tessie said.  “Yeah, we can talk about that, too.  This is a good start.  But you can see this is going to take a lot of planning, right?  We can’t just go gung-ho, open the doors to the blood farms and shove them all back over the border, right?”

“I know that,” Valen snapped.  “I’m not stupid.”

“Sorry,” Tessie said.  “It’s just complicated.  We can maybe take the opportunity to make a list of questions we should ask the network manager when we meet with him.”

All eyes went to Callidora, who’d come into the room, standing nervously and rigid in the door.  When she didn’t say anything, Valen prompted, “Yes, Callidora?”

“The network manager is here,” she said, very red.  “In the sitting room.”

Valen stood, alarmed.  “He wasn’t supposed to be here until two!”

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” she said.  “I got it wrong.  I made a mistake.”

Valen sighed in frustration.  “Well, whatever, we can just talk with him now and table this discussion for later.”

Valen brushed past Callidora, and she burst into tears.

Baffled, Valen turned back towards her.  “What on earth is the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” Callidora wailed.  “I’m so sorry!  I’ve never done anything like this before!  It’s harder than I thought it would be!”

Valen sighed.  “It’s all right.  No need to be upset about it.”

“Please don’t fire me!”

Trying to squash his impatience, Valen said, “I’m not firing you, but you should be in the position that suits your skillset, Callidora.”

“But you don’t need a handmaiden anymore!  Since you– you’re a man, or-”

“Callidora, we can talk about this later.  You’re not in trouble, and you’re not going to lose your job, but if you’re not up to the task, we can maybe put you on laundry and cleaning, hm?”

“I just want to take care of you, Mistress!” she said, far more distraught than the situation would seem to call for.

It suddenly occurred to Valen that he was not the only one capable of pining after a lofty, out of reach, impossible love. And that what he'd always assumed was affection won by his down to earth attitude compared to other nobles might in fact be something much weightier.  And that maybe Callidora was particularly attached to calling him Mistress and the feel of his soft skin for a reason.  And that maybe Callidora had only wanted to fill a different role for Valen because it meant she would continue being at his side on a day-to-day basis.

“Callidora,” he said, patting her hand.  “You are a very sweet girl, and I know you want to do your best for me.  I fully appreciate that.  We’ll talk about this later, all right?”

Sniffling, Callidora nodded.  “I apologize.”

“It’s all right.  We just don’t want to keep the network manager waiting.”

“Yes, of course.  Let me show you down to the sitting room.”

Valen decided it would be best to have Lex, Ari, and Tessie all come down with him.  It made him feel less like he was drowning to have them there and helping him think.  He did have Lex and Ari put on their silver body armor before accompanying him, though.

When they arrived, he saw that their guest was, contrary to the name of the room, standing in the center of the room uncomfortably.

“Mistress Kithrara,” he said, giving a very formal bow with his hands spread out.  “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Valen said brusquely.  He took a seat on the sofa nearby, folding his hands in his lap.  Lex and Ari took up positions on either side of him, which made him feel much safer and in control of the situation.  I have bodyguards!

Tessie took a seat on the embroidered chair nearby.  “You should be aware I’m here in an official capacity as Valen’s legal consultant.”

“Duly noted, thank you, sir,” he said.  “I’m not sure if you remember me, Mrs. Kithrara.  I believe we’ve met on occasion.  My name is Edwin.”

“Oh, yes.  I do recall you as a business associate of my husband.”

“Yes, but I also attended a number of your formal balls at the estate here.”

It was at this point Valen noticed Edwin’s thrall, hanging back at the entrance of the room.  It was a man, tall and broad and with the expected neck scars from having wounds opened again and again.

Edwin must have noticed his eyes flickering over, or maybe he made a face, because he bowed graciously.  “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my thrall.  I’d heard that you don’t like having humans around, but it’s always been an expectation to bring one's thrall with you to the estate as a matter of propriety and status.  I’m surprised you have two of your own thralls, considering you’d apparently not had one before this point, Mrs. Kithrara.”

Valen scrunched his hands in the hem of his coat, frustrated.  Why couldn’t everyone just do the right thing forever always instead of making him wrestle with this moral ambiguity?  “These two are not my thralls, they’re my associates.  They’re simply here to listen, thank you.  And please, call me Valen.”

“Of course.  Thank you, Valen.  Associates, you say?”

“Yes.”  He paused.  “It’s awfully presumptuous of you to bring a thrall for status reasons.  Do you think someone who owns thousands of humans would be impressed by you having one?”

Edwin frowned.  Tessie made a cut-it-out motion on her neck, and Valen realized that despite the temptation, socially eviscerating this man would be counterproductive.

Edwin bowed again.  “I meant no disrespect, Valen.  It is simply what I’m used to.  Mr. Kithrara liked his business associates to have their own visible thralls.  I won’t bring him next time if it displeases you.”

Valen tried not to peel his lip in a snarl, but it happened anyway.  “It matters little to me, in the end.  What was it you needed to speak with me about?”

“I’d like to start by offering condolences on the tragedy that has befallen your family.  We are all quite shocked-”

“Yes, thank you, sir, the sentiment is noted.”  He waved for him to get on with it.

Edwin cleared his throat.  “Very well.  Mr. Kithrara had a regular meeting with me to stay up to date on the affairs of the processing facilities, since most of the day-to-day affairs there have been delegated to me.  I thought you probably would, as well, if you’re to be in charge of them from now on.”

All things considered, Edwin was being far more reasonable–and less misogynistic and transphobic–than Valen had expected.  He was bracing himself to deal with some real shitheads coming up throughout this whole business.  Edwin’s politeness didn't change the fact that he was holding a helpless human hostage, though.  Valen had to keep telling himself it wouldn't do much good right now to try and free this man.  He was probably braindead like all the rest, and it was more important right now to enact some sort of systemic change.  “Please do catch me up to date on the latest affairs, then.”

Edwin gave another polite bow and walked over to his thrall, taking a briefcase that the human had been holding.  He sat down in the chair opposite Valen and took out a manila folder, which he flipped open.

“The southern, eastern, and western processing facilities are keeping up with their quotas,” he said, taking papers out of the folder.  “The central and northern sites are having trouble keeping up with demand.  The southern site is overproducing by about 1,000 gallons per month, which makes up for the deficit, but it’s putting strain on the distribution facilities.  Mr. Kithrara and I had been in the process of discussing whether we should expand operations in the north to compensate.”

“No!” Valen said, sitting up ramrod straight.  “No, there definitely won’t be any expansion!”

Edwin bowed his head.  “As you wish.”

Valen reached over and slid one of the papers closer so he could look at it, then immediately felt sick.  Each processing facility was producing at least six or seven thousand gallons of blood per month.  For a moment he was so overwhelmed by guilt and shame imagining how many people it must take to do that that he just locked up.

“Is something the matter, Mrs. Kithrara?”

He snapped back into his body as Ari touched his shoulder.  “Focus on what you can do as a first step,” she whispered.  “You don’t have to do everything right this second.”

Edwin looked at Ari with an expression of faint annoyance, then back down to Valen.  “Is there something you’d like me to do, Mrs. Kithrara?”

Right.  The raw numbers were horrifying, but this was how vampires survived.  Valen couldn’t help anyone by just drowning in self-loathing.  That was how he’d always driven himself into an eating disorder.  That wasn’t productive.

He had to focus on what could be done to help, any way to fix this that wouldn’t result in a total clusterfuck where even more people got hurt.  He had a responsibility.

He cleared his throat.  “Tell me, Edwin, how long does it take for a newly captured human to… become brain dead from exposure?”

“New acquisitions are kept in isolation for six months.  The second six months they’re kept in decreased security, and by one year they’re docile enough to be integrated into the facility’s main population.

Valen tried to wrangle himself away from the edge of the spiral he knew was coming if he thought too long about the mass-scale destruction of cognitive function.  Focus.  Focus on what we can do.  There’s no point in feeling guilty about what’s already been done.  Think about how Lex and Ari had the bravery to look their mistakes in the face and not flinch away.

He crossed his legs and tried to maintain his composure.  “The ones in the second six month period, are they able to talk?  Do they remember where they lived in human territory?”

Edwin frowned.  “Why do you ask, Mrs. Kithrara?”

“It’s not your place to question why I want to know!” Valen snapped, and Edwin immediately snapped to attention.  Good.  Sometimes knowing how to act like an entitled noble was helpful.  Edwin didn’t need to know it was because Valen was so emotionally compromised today.

“My apologies, Mrs. Kithrara.  To answer your question, it varies considerably.”

Valen cleared his throat.  “Thank you.  How many humans are there at each site in the one-year period?”

Edwin shuffled through his papers.  “I’d have to ask for exact numbers, ma’am, but it’s generally about a hundred or less per site.”

Okay, so for five processing facilities, they were looking at about five-hundred people who might still be able to simply be given back by dropping them back over the border.  That was still a hell of an undertaking, but he could at least see something they could do in the short-term.  They were going to have a problem long-term as the blood supply dwindled with no new captures, but it was a start.

Valen crossed his legs, trying to exude confidence for the strange order he was about to give on day 1 of being in charge.  “I would like for you to give orders to stop use of persuasion on all the humans that have been there for less than a year, and start making arrangements to bring them to the estate in small groups.”

Edwin’s face twitched, indicating his suppressed surprise, but he’d learned his lesson and did not ask why.  “Very well.  If you’re interested in humans that have had minimal exposure to persuasion, I have a small group ready for you to inspect here at the estate now.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck, that had always been Valen’s least favorite part: when the fresh catches were brought for Priscus to inspect personally.  Priscus did that because he thought it made him look ready to take on the family business, if he was putting so much effort into ensuring the quality of the blood supply, by looking at every single one personally before chucking them into hell.

“You brought a load of… fresh acquisitions here today?”

“I hope that was the right thing to do.  Mr. Kithrara was interested in inspecting each one personally, so I thought you might be as well.”

Valen gripped the armrests.  Edwin was going to be mad at him, right?  No, Edwin was just doing what he thought Valen wanted.  Not that it excused his role in things.  “I'd like you to give the order to stop all new acquisitions, please.”

Another twitch of surprise.  “May I ask what the plan is to curb the deficit in production that will cause?”

“We'll figure it out.”

Edwin paused for a very long time.  Then: “Mrs. Kithara, need I remind you of the importance of our work, here?  The entire territory depends on our harvest web for-”

“I know that,” Valen snapped.  “But I own the estate, so I'm in charge, so I get to decide what's done with it!”

Edwin bowed his head respectfully.  “Of course.  I did not mean to question you.”  To your face, at least, I'm sure.

“Where are the latest new acquisitions that you’ve brought?”

“They are in a transport vehicle just outside, Mrs. Kithrara.”

“Give me the keys to the vehicle.”

Edwin fished around in his pocket and handed him a keyring.

“Thank you,” Valen said.  “I’ll take care of the acquisitions.  You’re dismissed.”

Edwin stood and bowed respectfully.  “Thank you, Mrs. Kithrara.  I’ll make sure your handmaid has my phone number, in case you need to consult me again.  Shall I plan to meet with you again next week?”

“Just send word if there are any updates.”

“Yes, Mistress.”  He stood and began gathering up his paperwork.  “If I may speak freely for a moment, Mrs. Kithrara, I would like to say something.”

Valen had to stop himself from sighing in disgust.  Can you just leave already?  “Yes, what is it?”

He snapped his briefcase shut and stood at attention.  “I’ve always admired your beauty, Mrs. Kithrara, and I don't find the alterations you've made to your body unsightly either.  I would like to submit that I am unmarried and know how to comfort a widow.  Do with this information whatever pleases you.”

Did Edwin kill Priscus?  Was he trying to scoop the inheritance?  Was he trying to scoop Valen?  Was Valen next in the line of assassination?  Either way, unlike earlier with Callidora, Valen had absolutely no patience for this declaration of pining.

“Noted,” he said coldly.  “Thank you.  You are dismissed.”

Edwin snapped his fingers at his thrall, who took the briefcase and then followed him out the main entrance.  Callidora closed the door behind him.

Valen leaned back and collapsed into the couch, feeling wrung out.  “Did I do the right thing?” he said pathetically.

“Yes,” Lex said, putting her hands on his shoulders.  “Yes, sweetie, you did great.”

“Are you sure?  Because I didn’t save his-”

“Think about all the people you just saved by giving that order,” Ari interrupted.  “That’s what’s important right now.”

“This is a good start,” Tessie confirmed.  “This will start reducing the harm we’re doing without going so fast we can’t keep things under control.  We’ll start figuring out alternative blood to replace the lost supply.”

Valen hid his face in his hands.  “I suppose now we have to see to the truckload of humans convinced they’re about to be food.”  They were all going to fear and despise him.  He wasn’t looking forward to it. 

Lex apparently noticed his chagrin. “Do you want us to just take care of it for you?”

“No, no,” Valen said.  The thought of sitting in here alone stewing in his guilt while they fixed his kind’s crimes was too much.  “I'd better take it head on.”

“You don't have to take everything head on,” Tessie said gently.

“It will be fine,” Valen snapped.  “I'm–I’m sorry for being short with you.  You've been nothing but an angel, Tessie.  Why don't you stay here and look at these sheets Edwin brought?  I'm sure you can start planning something with this information.”

“Okay,” Tessie said uneasily.  “If you're sure.”

Tessie took the papers and started gathering up her things.  This was good.  Tessie seemed to have… some sort of idea of what direction to go in.  Once Valen stopped being so short-tempered, maybe it would be manageable.

He took Lex and Ari outside, where there was now a second van parked near theirs.  Valen could see multiple humans inside through the windows.  Here we go.

He unlocked and opened the back door to the cargo space.  The vehicle was lined with two benches on either side, facing inwards, and a gaggle of about a half dozen humans were chained there, wrists connected to a fastener on the floor.  A few of them were gagged–probably the ones who hadn’t deigned to be quiet on the way over, and the drivers had gotten tired of using persuasion on them to keep them quiet.

They all look scared and miserable.  They looked scared of him.  They hated him.

He’d been there, scared and miserable and hateful chained up in the back of a van.  “It’s all right.  I won’t hurt you.”

He stepped up into the van, letting the humans see Lex and Ari behind him.

Some unnameable emotion rippled through the humans at seeing the vampire hunters.  Confusion, betrayal, anger, hope.

“What are you doing?” one of them said quietly.  “Why don’t you kill him?”

Valen struggled to hold back tears.  Lex and Ari did try to kill him, once upon a time.  That he’d existed in the same universe as those versions of the two was terrifying.

Valen was a bad person, and he deserved to be killed.  This innocent human wouldn’t be calling for his head otherwise.

He snapped out of his spiral as Ari stepped into the van and put a hand on his shoulder.  “All right, let me take it from here, big guy.”  She took the keys out of his hand.  “We’re gonna help you, all right?  This is Valen.  He’s on our side.”

Valen nodded shakily.

Ari knelt down and started unlocking the humans.  Valen and the first freed captivate eyed each other nervously as the human rose to their feet.

“You should say something,” Lex prompted.

“R-right,” Valen said.  “Um.  Ah, hello.  Everyone.  It’s nice to meet–No.  My name is Valen.”

Someone in the van coughed.  All eyes were on him blankly.  Ari tried to pick up the pace of unlocking people.

“I suppose, technically, I legally own you all-”

Lex elbowed him in the ribs.  “Try again.”

“Right,” Valen stammered.  “Um, you’ll all be returned home as soon as possible.  No need to worry, now.”

The faces stayed wary, clearly not understanding or not believing.

Valen nervously glanced up at the moon.  “I don't think there's enough time before sunrise to go to the border.”

"We can take them," Lex offered.

Valen unhappily fidgeted.  "But it's dangerous for you all to be unescorted."

"We're vampire hunters," Ari said.  "We'll be fine."

She turned around and got a look at his nervous, watery eyes, and groaned.  "Fine, we'll have a sleepover today and tomorrow night we'll go as a group, so you can be there to supervise."

Ari started helping the humans step down from the van to the ground.  One of the women refused to let go of her hand.

“Please help us,” she whispered, with a fearful glance at Valen.

“I’m helping you,” she said, bemused.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay.  Valen isn’t gonna hurt you.”

Valen turned away, feeling like absolute shit.

“We’re going into the house?”

“Just for today.  We’ll go home at nightfall.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to go during the day?”

“Valen wants to come with us.”

She glanced nervously at Valen again.

“Trust me, everything is OK.  You’ll get to go home.”

“Then why did he bring us here?” another one asked timidly.

Valen tugged on his cravat.  “Um, I didn't give the order to have you brought here. I, uh, recently was placed in charge of the estate and am charged with handling what my predecessor gave me. You will hopefully be the last batch of human captives brought here."

They all remained scaredly quiet.

“I suppose we’ll need to discuss accommodations… Well, the manor has plenty of bedrooms.  I don’t care what Eleanor thinks.”

Ari noted that a few of the humans were nervously eyeing Lex and Ari’s silver weapons, clearly thinking of making a break for it.  “Hey, uh, Valen.  Why don’t you just let us handle getting everyone settled in, okay?  We’ll know what to feed them for dinner and stuff, too.  You go talk to Tessie about your important stuff.”

Valen deflated.  “Oh.  All right.  I suppose that’s logical.  Do be careful.”

He trudged back into the manor and found Tessie still in the sitting room.  He lay down on the couch and curled up with his head directly by her thigh.

Tessie didn’t look up from the papers she was shuffling through.  “How’d it go?”

He let out a groan.  “They hate me.”

“They’re allowed to hate you.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But I thought I was doing the right thing!”

“People can still hate you even if you’re doing the right thing.”

Valen rolled over, staring at the ceiling.  “Well, maybe the world shouldn’t be that way!”

His protest hung in the air, empty except for the scratching of Tessie’s quill.

***

Valen offered to transfer himself to the master bedroom to open up the guest suite, but Lex and Ari insisted there was enough room for all the newly freed captives without it.  Valen just felt so guilty, like it was a silly whim to not want to go back in the room where he’d been so traumatized, and somehow Lex and Ari assuring him they understood and didn’t need him to face that just made him feel worse.

Well, some human who was otherwise having the worst night of their life was getting to sleep on the one-thousand thread count silk sheets in the master suite.

He couldn’t sleep.  He was shaken by the way they’d looked at him.  The fear.  The resignation.  He tossed and turned.

He crawled out and into Lex and Ari’s bed.  But they were staying elsewhere tonight, with the traumatized humans who felt safer with the two vampire hunters there, keeping watch.

It’d been a while since he’d so acutely felt the enormous gulf between him and the two humans he loved.  He curled up around his cat plushie and hoped Tessie didn’t hear him crying.

***

“Mistress.”

Valen turned his tired eyes towards Callidora, who curtseyed in the doorway of the guest suite.  “What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she said very seriously.  “You’re right.  I should be in the position that suits my skillset.  I’m your handmaiden.  I’m here to make things easier and more comfortable for you.  Maybe that doesn’t include scheduling.  But I want to take care of you.”

Valen plunked back onto the bed with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.  “Thank you.  You’re very sweet.”  

Callidora curtsied nervously again.  “Tell me how I can make the master bedroom to your standards.  If we are going to be having many guests over like yesterday, it’s only right that they get the guest suite.”

Valen was incredibly weary.  There was no way to make her understand.  “It’s the room itself.  You’d have to make it feel like a different room.”

Callidora very seriously clenched her fists.  “I’ll do it for you, Mistress.”

“Please just call me Valen.”

She looked at him.

“Please?”

She bowed very deeply.  “Whatever you want.  Valen.”

She turned and dashed off.  Valen managed to summon the energy to finish tying his boots.

“You ready?”  It was Lex, who’d appeared in the doorway in her silver armor.

“Just about,” he said.  “Thank you for waiting.  I want to make sure nothing happens to you.”

“You’re sweet.”  In the same patronizing, incomplete way Valen thought Callidora was sweet, surely.  It stung that they would never think of him the same way he saw them, the lovesick fool that he was.  He followed Lex out the main entrance before he could spiral any further.

Lex drove the van of newly freed captives, and Ari drove their own van with Valen in the passenger’s seat.  Lex was always the one to make conversation, so the two of them mostly sat in silence.  Valen admired the trees in the moonlight, brooding.  Ari listened to the radio.

They reached the border.  Bailey and Jerome were waiting there in no-man’s land, leaning against their truck.  They both put their hands up and waved as they got closer.

“Hey, girlies!”

“Look who it is!”

Lex stopped the van and threw the doors open, and the errant humans all fled to the safety of more visible hunters immediately.

Valen trailed behind Ari, low in spirits despite the joyous tone of the humans talking to each other.

“Hey.”

Valen looked up to see Bailey hovering around him, smiling.  “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Valen said thickly.  “I shall try to remember that.”

Bailey turned around and took a pet carrier out of the car.

“Snowball?” Valen said, perking up instantly, honing in on the white fur.

“The girls said you’re going to be staying there for a while.  No reason you can’t have her, right?”

Valen took the carrier from him, on the verge of tears.  In the periphery, one of the rescued humans was working up the nerve to come over and say thank you to him.  “Yes.  Yes, I suppose this might make me feel a little better.”

***

Valen got a new set of food and water dishes for the cat, new toys and a new collar.  When they got home, he set Snowball directly on the loveseat in the sitting room.  If he was in charge now, the pets would be allowed on the damn furniture.

Callidora walked by in a smock plastered with dry paint stains.  “Valen, your cat is back!”

Valen stood at attention.  “Yes, she is…  Callidora, are you painting something?”

“The master bedroom!  Go see if it’s to your liking, when you feel inclined.”

She moved off, humming.  Valen dashed off as soon as she was out of sight.

The master bedroom had a different door.  The elaborate carved wood had been swapped out for something plain, the kind a commoner might have for a front door.  There was a neat little opaque stained glass window in it that was charming, but not ostentatious like so much of the house.

Valen incredulously pushed the door open.  The entire master suite had been painted dark blue, like a stormy ocean, and stars spackled the ceiling.  The carpet had been ripped up and the wooden floors newly polished–he could still smell the wax.  There was a lattice of houseplants in one corner.  A tasteful chaise sat in the corner, and Valen noted it had been made up to sleep an extra person.  The huge four-post bed had been removed entirely, replaced by a more modern king-sized bed with a plain headboard and a plush red comforter, against the opposite wall from the old bed.  There was an absolute mountain of pillows up against the headboard, and atop it all: the cat plushie.

It was a different room, a different room entirely.  It was one designed to make Valen comfortable, to make him happy, and it had enough room for Lex and Ari and even Tessie to come in and be comfortable as well.  It was a room that said to hell with what everyone thinks this should be, it’s going to be whatever the hell we want it to be.

Snowball came up behind him, rubbing against his leg.  Her pink diamond collar had been replaced by a simple leather buckle.

“Do you like it?”

He turned around to see Callidora standing there, still holding her paint brush, between Lex, Ari, and Tessie.  

Valen’s eyes watered, and he dashed forward and squeezed her into a hug, getting paint all over himself.

“Yes,” he whispered.  “Yes, I like it so much.  Thank you.”

***

Taglist

@tomato-whump @dragonfireridge @taterswhump @whump-cravings

@scoundrelwithboba @pigeonwhumps @whumpsday @whumpy-writings @fuzzydarkpebble

@melodicnommer @thecyrulik @snake462 @gt-daboss @appelsiinilight

@star-rott @mottinthemainpot @corvidat @melancholy-in-the-morning @whumplr-reader

@honeycollectswhump @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpycries @starfields08000 @scumashling

@demetercabingreen-thumb

[verosvault]

Fantasy High Junior Year Trailer Screenshots of the PCs! 😋 (Spoilers ahead for Fantasy High S1&2)

If any of y'all see any clues in any of these. Drop it in the comments please because I'm curious! 😂

I love how Riz's has like Kalina stuff on it and also 3 sticky notes that say "night yorb?" just...AROUND! 😂🤣💀

Also...since when did Kristen gain THAT much MUSCLE?! 😭😭✋✋

I LOVE the "Keep Going" and the "Are you my dad? Yes No?" on Gorgug's! 😂😆

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Adaine O̶'̶S̶h̶a̶u̶g̶h̶n̶e̶s̶s̶y̶ Abernant

Adaine's has a doodle of Jawbone on the top left.

Her new Arcane Focus! The sword she took from her father!

Boggy!

There a unique doodle of something on the top right of Adaine's? It looks like a cat of some sort to me....but Idk. 🥴🥲 [EDIT: That little cat doodle on the top right is the same cat doodle that is on Jawbone's shirt!!]

[EDIT!: "ESF" flag on Boggy stands for "Emotional Support Frog"!!!]

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Fabian Aramais Seacaster

Fabian has a doodle of his dad, Bill Seacaster on his.

His magical sheet!

A "Hoot Growl" Owlbears Poster!

Toxic Masculinity is DEAD! 😂✋

Also, the sword of the Seacaster's as well there it looks like!

Fabian also has a tiny little message on his that reads: "I'm here to be Great"! 😆

There's also some kind of ticket stub on the bottom left corner!

As well as what looks to be a Start line with shoeprints for what I'm assuming is a track for either running...(or dancing 👀)?

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Kristen Applebees

Kristen's has Cassandra on the top right! 😆

A scratched off "yes?" in regards to the deity she had created before.

Along with a corn on the cob

and her iconic staff of doubt!

She's also BUFF!

So... That's obviously VERY NEW!!! 😂

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Riz Gukgak

Riz's has Kalina around his.

It has what I think is the picture from Sophomore Year of both Pok and Kalina next to each other. The mystery photo of that season.

It has Coach Daybreak.

"Bardy Boys" iconic reference.

"Night Yorb?" written 3 different times...Idk why it's referenced 3 different times here 💀...

The bottom right of Riz's is what seems to be a drawing of Biz Glitterdew. Underneath the Biz drawing, it reads: "HACKER".

There's a drawing of a Corn Cutie.

There seems to be random numbers? I see "10", "5", "12", "03". There's a "3:" which idk if it's supposed to go along with the other random numbers or if it's supposed to be a text face. I also see letters here too, like I see "S", "H", "A" however the "A" seems to be the lettering for "Aguefort".

There's a drawing of an octopus with a pirate hat, which I'm assuming is a drawing of James Whitclaw maybe?

I don't know if the small drawing of the woman ABOVE Coach Daybreak is supposed to resemble Lady Doreen? The lunch lady.

There's a small writing on a sticky that says "Jorjuu?" The J at the end looks like a "u" to me. Maybe I'm blind. Either way, I assume it's referring to Telemaine's wrong pronunciation of Gorgug "Jorjuj" :p

Right next to Riz's center photo of himself seems to be something that says "(un)licensed" the words under it looks like scribbles, but I can only assume it's "private investigator".

Idk who that girl is on the right in the small black and white photo. I have no clue who that's supposed to be. 🥴🥴🥴 Is it supposed to be a drawing of Penny Luckstone maybe??? [EDIT! The small black and white photo is a picture of Penelope Everpetal!!!]

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Fig Faeth

Fig's has a concert ticket stub! Maybe that's the event going on at the Thistlespring Tree? Maybe? Maybe Gorgug wanted to perform to his parents 😂 and then...things went wrong? 😂💀 idk! I'm purely guessing!

Fig's has a tiny little message that says "Burn Towns Get Money"! 😂 That one lyric in one of their band songs! 😂✋ Another tiny little message that says "burn it up"!

It has Fig's iconic guitar with a small golden star next to it!

It has a tiny cute photo of Gilear!

It has her Dwarven Skateboard!

It has what I can only imagine to be a little doodle of what I assume to be Gorthalax???

Then it has Fig's little Dwarven skateboard.

It has what seems to be a spiky collar of some sort? Idk what that could be referring to other than Hilda Hilda's dog that she has chained outside of the police house...but that's quite a stretch! So...I honestly just don't really know. 💀✋ [EDIT! The spiky collar might just be referring to Fig's punk aesthetic!!!]

Fig's also has that like..."A" Circle of Anarchism symbol on hers as well! So...yeah! That looks dope and amazing!

[EDIT!: The beginning of the words "HILDA HILDA" on the right side under the drawing of the skateboard!! 😂😂]

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Gorgug Thistlespring

Gorgug's has small messages of "Keep Going" on his!

It has a small message that says "METAL" in all caps! Probably since he loves Metal music! Just like Zelda does! 😂🤣 :3

It has a letter that says "Are You My Dad? Yes No" 😂😂 Even though he's found his dad already so it's kinda funny I guess? 😂💀 But it's SO HIM too so...ya know! 😂🤷‍♀️

There's what looks to be a small doodle of a rose in the top right. Probably for his one true love! Zelda! 🥺 :3 [EDIT: THE SMALL DOODLE OF THE ROSE IS THE TIN FLOWER FROM EPISODE 1!!!]

Then there seems to be a doodle of like ...I originally thought it looked like a moon? But it might be a doodle of a satellite around earth??? I mean... it's right next to the rose...so... I'm assuming that that's what it is? Idk 🥲😅

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If y'all caught something I missed! Please holler in the comments! 🙏 I NEED THEORIES!!! RKAKFKW 😭✋

[persimmonsimmer]

The sun had fully set when a piercing eeee pulled her out of her thoughts. 

The sensor repeated the sound almost immediately, and then again, a string of urgent pings turning into an uninterrupted keen.

With numbed fingers she jotted down the sensor's output as quickly as she could, her handwriting turning nearly illegible in her haste.

Time felt as if it had slowed, but in reality it was probably less than a minute before the pinging slowed, and half as long again until it stopped.

Sam stared from the sensor to the numbers she’d scribbled, her breath coming fast. It would take time to do a full analysis, but even a child could tell they were elevated. Very, very elevated.

She willed the signal to come again.

She stood among the trees holding the sensor aloft, waiting.

The sensor remained silent, but although the readings she was seeing now were nowhere near the levels it had taken to make the device come alive with that shrill shriek, they were still many times as high as she'd ever seen before tonight.

A new pebble?

Hours passed.

Then, just before daybreak, just as it had the first time, the sensor came alive with a series of chirps that swelled to a crescendo and then faded within a minute.

Amazing.

The moon set and the sun rose above the horizon while she waited to see if it would happen again.

It must have been close to midday by the time the sensor's battery died. She’d have to return to Carl’s to replace it with one from her stash.

And then she would have to get back out here to take more readings. And yes, she would have to write the council a report, but—her mind sang—not the one she'd been anticipating the night before.

Carl was right!

[shallyne]

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 4

CHAPTER FOUUUUUUR! YAY!!! All chapters on A03

Words: 1.6k

TW: signs of a panic attack, death, implied murder

July 19th

It's barely daybreak and we already got bad news. Mom had a stroke last night, so severe that she's now in a coma. I tried talking to Nesta but she didn't reply and just left, Elain still seems in shock. I don't know how I feel, it all just seems going downward right now and there is no way to stop it. Is it possible to feel nothing about mom's stroke? Maybe I am in shock but I don't feel like I am in shock, I just, I feel nothing. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe it does, maybe I am a bad person but if I am a bad person, then mom is a bad person, too.

I'm trying not to think too much about it, Elain and Nesta are more important right now because they do feel something, and I want to make sure that they know I am there for them if they want to talk. I doubt they will but it's always nice to know that there is someone, right?

Also, should we tell dad? Should we tell him soon or wait for some news? He's going to be devastated, like we were when we lost everything because of his antics.

I shouldn't go down this route right now, maybe another time.

Well, I guess it's time now to get ready for school, maybe Rhys will distact me from this shitshow my family is right now.

July 20th

Rhys told me today that he needs to talk to me soon about something important, whenever I have time. I only have time next Saturday and he was okay with meeting in the little park close to school then, so it can't be urgent.

OMG, maybe he's asking me on a date? That MUST be it!! I don't know how I am just thinking about it. Maybe I can borrow a dress from Nesta for Saturday and wear a little makeup. I don't know much about makeup, maybe Elain can help me. This is so exciting. FINALLY!! I'm totally saying yes but not instantly, he took long enough to ask me on a date.

I'll let my hair open, I know he likes it. I did it once and he told me I looked pretty, so that's a given. I also have this perfume I'm only wearing for special occasions, I'll use that, too.

Maybe I can get some details about it in the following week.

This is the best day of my life!!!!

Also, Ianthe has been a bitch to me. Rhys had told me she kept flirting with him after he rejected her a bajillion times and I told her to go away after she tried AGAIN. Unbelievable, right?

Such a shame she smashed her hand in her locker door in the PE changing room where no one could see us her.

I hope it heals just fine, would be sad if it didn't.

July 21st

I'm trying to draw and I just can't. Everytime I try I'm staring at a blank canvas, which is just as blank as my mind. I thought the maybe-date with Rhys would inspire me at least a little but it's impossible. I have a creative block. Even thinking about picking up a pencil or a brush takes all my energy, I never felt this way about painting. Painting was always my escape, I was always good at expressing any feeling through art. Now, I just get angry. I want to take the canvas and throw it away. I like having this diary but it's not the same as painting, I can't express myself in words like I do in sketches and paintings, or even scribbles. That part of me just feels empty now, like someone stole all the colors, all lights and feelings and shapes. It's a void.

Elain looked at my canvas and told me to give it a few days, maybe she's right. It's a stressful time for us all. We will get through this and then we go back to our normal lives because everything will be okay.

I'm trying to tell myself that at least, like Elain does, but there is always a little voice in my head that doubts any happiness will come our way.

The feeling of impending doom is still there, gripping me everyday, reminding me that all is not okay. Maybe it's just a puberty thing, I'm sure Nesta and Elain went through the same thing. I wouldn't know, talking about feelings in the Archeron household is like eating a steak as a vegan. You don't do it.

July 26th

Rhys is dead to me.

He and his stupid father don't exist anymore, not in my world. They are dead. DEAD.

Rhys hadn't invited me to ask me on a date, I didn't get ready, borrowed Nesta's dress, let Elain do my makeup, use my good perfume, because he wanted to ask me on a date. No, he invited me to tell me that he is the reason for ruining my life. My whole family's life. That we have NOTHING! Okay fine, it's his father's fault but what's the difference? I AM SO ANGRY. He just moved here to ruin my father's business because of some stupid deal my father broke. Speaking of father, my father is just as dead to me. He can rot in hell, I hope he rots in prison. My sister's are suffering because of HIM. Because of his decisions, because of Rhysand's family. I hate my father, I hate Rhysand's father, I hate Rhysand.

I must have looked just as distraught as I feel because Nesta knew instantly that something happened when I came home. I told her everything, her and Elain, and she is seething.

I can't believe I fell for Rhysand, I can't believe I fell for a fucking lie.

I'm just so angry I can barely breathe. I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe.

How am I supposed to see Rhysand everyday at school and not scream at him, at the unfairness of it all. How can I ever look at myself, live with myself, for falling foe his tricks to get close to me like a fool.

It was all a lie.

Dad's business was a lie.

Our life was a lie.

Rhysand was a big fucking lie.

I can't breathe.

July 31st

I'm sitting in a train.

The last twenty-four hours five days felt like a bad nightmare, one I just want to wake up from. But it's not a nightmare, is it? It's real.

Mom is dead. They said it was the stroke. Rhysand said it wasn't. I don't know why I believe him but he looked genuine. Maybe I am a fool for trusting him in this but Nesta seems to believe him, too.

Ruining my father's business wasn't the last of Rhysand's father's plans for my father. My father ruined a big deal, now Rhysand's father ruins his life. Meaning that he sends out his men to kill the people my father loves. Which includes my mother. And his daughters.

I think this is how shock feels, feeling like an empty shell. Every movement feels robotic, only muscle memory making me move.

Nesta told me that Rhysand's brothers knocked like crazy on the front door, the tall one was even short of breaking the freaking door down, to warn them about the threat on their lives. Meanwhile Rhysand dragged me out of that diner, kicking and screaming. I didn't want to listen, I didn't want to touch him, but he didn't budge. He brought me to my sisters. Telling me the plan.

The plan to send us away, to a friend who can help us. I think his name was Jurian. We are traveling to him now, he lives in a little city near Austin.

After that we won't be the Archeron’s anymore, we will live under another name, in a city far away.

I don't even know why Rhysand helped us, why would he care. He used me as a pawn for his father and now he helps us running away? I know that he said he never used me but the timing of befriending me seemed convenient. He also said he wouldn't track us after we got our new identities in Austin, but I don't know if I believe him. Maybe his friend will rat us out.

I made a promise to myself when we entered the train station this morning. I promised to keep Nesta and Elain safe, whatever it takes. They used me, they got my mom but they won't get my sister's.

Also, dear diary, this will be my last entry. Nesta wanted me to burn my diary, so it couldn't be tracked to us, but we compromised and I would keep it hidden wherever we end up. Never touch it again.

It was nice to have you as a silent companion as long as it lasted.

Bye

Excerpt from a group chat between Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel

Azriel: They just left Jurian’s house.

Cassian: so, that's it?

Morrigan: no contact anymore, it's to keep them safe, Cassian

Cassian: I know but how sure can we be that Aamon’s men won't track them down?

Rhysand: they won't

Cassian: but can we be SURE

Azriel: yes

Morrigan: Rhys, have you told Feyre?

Rhysand: no, it wasn't the time

Morrigan: there will never be the perfect time to tell someone you love them but it was your last chance

Rhysand: I know

Cassian: maybe it won't be forever

Rhysand: maybe

Morrigan: maybe

Azriel: maybe

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader