#golden rotation my beloved

[goldenwaves]

its real fucked up when IM the best player on the salmon run team

[shirefantasies]

Sweet Spot- Boromir x Reader

Warnings: teensy bit suggestive

Lie down was the echo of your every thought, even as your gaze was pierced by blue at the lady Galadriel’s stare, even as your heard her whisper into those dark crevasses about the fear and apprehension held deep in your heart, your own personal insecurities amplified by your beloved wizard companion’s fall. If Gandalf had failed, after all, what if you were not enough? Your exhausted mind posed, and if so, would the man you’d come to love on your journey tire of you? Find you short of the glory amidst which he was raised, unfit for great white halls and soaring towers? Perhaps you were simply out of place.

You are exhausted, the Lady of Lórien’s voice echoed once more through your mind with a flutter of her golden lashes, such times change many a thought. Go to him. He will show you every answer and more. Perhaps he shall benefit from your presence as well.

At that, your gaze fell from the Lady’s small smile, drifting out to the smattering of ancient trunks, each one extending to the heavens with its spreading green hands. Steps spiraled up most of them, but your hollow met the earth, carven as it was into the tree’s base.

With one final nod Galadriel’s way, you accepted her wisdom and strode softly across the damp ground and fallen leaves to one of the hollows. To your luck, you had chosen the one in which Boromir reclined, and when he caught sight of you a smile broke across his face, striking some tension out of your muscles with the shock of joy. Extending an arm, Boromir beckoned you closer, and you quickly obeyed, dropping down to his side upon the cushions that filled the hollow.

“A rare luxury,” he commented, wrapping an arm around you the moment you settled into him, your back to his chest, “is this not? Here we are, clean and safe again in a bed no less! Well, a bed of sorts.”

You’d traveled with the man enough to recognize when his tone opened itself up to coloring with false cheer, and despite his warm embrace this was one of those times. His words hardly struck your ears for all your concern.

“What is the matter? Did something happen? Or is it just...everything?" You did not dare speak the wizard's name. Not yet.

"All the words the Lady spoke," Boromir replied, body deflating against yours, "she spoke to me of Gondor falling, about my father, and though she told me not to lose hope, how can I not?"

"Lady Galadriel spoke into the pits of my worry as well," you rotated in his hold to face him properly, his forehead hitting yours immediately, “but she also reminded me that our exhaustion changes many a thought. Whether it is true in your eyes or not, you are a great man and just as well a son. I see it in the way you care for the hobbits and all you meet. You may feel you can get no rest here in these woods, but please try. For me. For Frodo and the others.”

“Your words are true and sweet as your heart. What would I do without you?” Boromir’s breath fanned your face, his arms snaking even further about you as his smile began creeping back.

“They were not my words alone.”

“Oh, but from who else would I have taken them?” Shaking his head and whispering your name, Boromir pressed his lips just beneath your ear. “I shall rest indeed if only you stay here with me. I need you.”

Another kiss, this time down to your collarbone. "Please."

Of course he needn't ask you twice. Swallowing, you simply nodded your response, tilting your head for access as Boromir's lips traveled back up your neck. Minutes passed like moments as your beloved nuzzled you, nose and lips warm against you; he held you there in relish of your skin and you welcomed it even as you teased him.

"Is this what you call a rest?" You breathed, grinning wickedly. "Will you sleep like this, then?"

"Believe me," he smiled, "the feeling of you in my arms is all the rest I could ever desire."

Your heart somehow leapt and quieted at that, all its sinking ceased at words so soothing...and so heating, too. Much as you doubted yourself, it was true that in Boromir's arms you felt to be enough. More than, you reflected as he smoothed your hair and kissed your forehead.

“I confess I lost hope for a moment too,” you told him, “I wondered how I could survive this if Ga- if others could not. How I might live up to all those I love, and yet now I see.”

“What is that? What do you see?” Boromir’s green eyes peered at you intently, pupils wide and shining and brows furrowed slightly in concern.

Smiling softly, you reached up to trace the lines of his cheek with your hand, soft skin and rough stubble alike brushing the back of it.

“We all carry this same burden in one way or the other. And yet when we let ourselves be seen there it goes again. We fall when abiding by our own strength only- I have yours as you have mine.” Your hand slid further down, smoothing the front of Boromir’s tunic and then grasping his.

With that, he brought your joined hands to his lips. “Well said. You see? That is why I love you. Why I need you.”

“And I love you,” you replied breathily between Boromir’s rapid pecks, giggling as he went right back to lavishing attention upon the sweet spot on your neck, “I need you just as well. My captain of the white tower. My strength, my guardian.”

“My heart,” Boromir shot back, stopping his barrage to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, finally settling down; his heart began to slow beneath your hand, still firmly grasped in his against his chest, “shall we now rest?”

“We shall,” you replied with a grin, leaning on him and reclining all the way upon the blanketed floor, “sweet dreams, love.”

“Only such now that you are by my side.”

“I will never be found anywhere else,” you whispered, pressing one final kiss to the crown of Boromir’s head, heart soothed as it beat in time with his.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 1: the Light Dies

masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.6k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, it’s sorta like a mafia au but they have superpowers lmao 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, minor character death, attempted murder, injury, loss of consciousness

a/n: I have to say thank you to @casuallyimagining and @bluewhale52 for betaing this chapter, although this might come as a surprise to them since that was maybe 3 years ago now?😅I'm really not sure how much my writing had changed since then, but you guys can be the judge of that as the future chapters unfold! In the meantime, enjoy! If you want more supercharged in your life, you can also search my supercharged tag to find some musings, rambling, gifsets and visuals etc that inspired me and kept me going while I lost my mind over this story!

Lastly, I present the supercharged playlist✨ I had a lot of fun making this – several songs align with plot events, while some of them are there for the title, the vibe, or even a single line! Feel free to guess which are which or come and chat with me about it👀

An ear-splitting roar was barely contained behind shuddering steel doors. Just down the corridor, your fingers still clicked away, unperturbed, at your keyboard.

Tapping your foot, you looked impatiently up at the clock as another thunderous bellow assaulted the air. If the full-length windows weren’t reinforced by your boss, Kuyang’s own design, they would be rattling in their frames.

Blowing to rid your face of a strand of hair, you returned to your work, not even sparing a glance towards the source of the racket. It was only around half an hour until you could leave work for the weekend.

Finishing your task, you turned to filing the correspondence on your desk as a few yells carried through the air, mingled with the monster’s uproar. Bills and business deals the lot of them, you tucked them away in their respective places to be dealt with next week – only to stop on the very last one. How many times had the postman ignored the very clear sign for no newspapers?

You supposed the city felt the need to remind everyone that there was some semblance of central control – not really of much concern in a workplace such as yours, mind. Glancing across the front page, you realised why. You didn’t have a tv at home, but you would have to live under a rock not to recognise your city’s most celebrated superhero. Bolt, the media’s beloved, had claimed another victory against some crazy start-up trying to build their own bombs downtown.

The hero’s blue-masked face grinned confidently up at you from the desk, while police led what looked to be two scruffy teenagers into the back of their van. But Bolt’s vivid presence eclipsed them in his suit that matched his bright eyes.

Not bothering to read further, you pushed the paper into the waste bin at the end of the table.

Just as you were tucking away the final bits of paper, your boss emerged, wiping his brow on a cloth that looked as dirty as his face. Smiling pleasantly despite his ruffled state, you rotated on your chair to face him.

“Frank’s all good and sleepy now,” he said, “if you could get him sent up to the chamber.”

“Sure,” you nodded, already getting up and straightening your jacket.

With nothing more than a weary nod of appreciation, he left for his private laboratory. This was through a series more armoured doors, to which only you and a small number of lab workers knew the codes.

He was a scientist. And you were sure he was unhinged, but the job paid well, so that was all you concerned yourself with.

In fact, you had got very lucky. You had been surprised when such a good position had become available and quickly given to someone as ill-qualified as you, with no references to give. But your lack of connections seemed of no concern, and here you were, finally making ends meet and no longer in fear of being turned out of your run-down apartment at the edge of town.

So you did your job as well as you could, worrying yourself over nothing except pleasing the odd man that was Kuyang.

Even so, it was still a little daunting each time you had to come face-to-face with one of his experiments.

Reaching the steel doors that had not long ago been seriously threatening their hinges, you took a breath. Holding your thumb over a scanner by the door, you plastered a confident smile on your face as you walked inside.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Frank’, a great lump of teeth and dark furry flesh several times bigger than you was sleeping in a pod at the centre of the room. Surrounding this were multitudes of screens showing graphs and readings you couldn’t hope to understand.

At the edges of the room, a smattering of other workers were slumped against the stainless steel lab walls, almost as rumpled as their boss had been.

A hulking guard, Taeyeon, stood near the entrance, and you quietly confirmed with her that Frank was under and secure. Nodding, you gestured to Taeyeon’s team, another man and woman with the same uniform and intimidating stature.

Together, you assembled in front of the tank that held Frank, Taeyeon typing authorisation into one of the computers. The others locked down the external doors, just in case.

Though it was a familiar sight by now, the opening of the pod always prompted you to run through your training. If you hadn’t read it in the documents you dealt with, you would not have known Frank was also known as Necrus X, a new prototype Kuyang was working on, although you could not imagine what for.

Kuyang had been sure to tell you how to knock out the creature if it ever came to it, though. There was a spot behind his ear, which was more of a ridge at the side of his enormous head.

With the pod open, a panel rose from the floor, taking Frank rotating upwards. You caught sight of the patch behind its ear, zeroing in on it. Just in case.

The smooth expanse of ceiling split then, a hole revealing itself as the roof shrunk away into the walls, leaving a clear path for Frank to rise to the next floor, where he was stored.

As effortlessly as the ceiling retreating, a smooth steel staircase emerged from the walls. You and Taeyeon climbed it, spiralling around the edges of the circular space until you drew level with Frank, now snoring on the upper floor. Here, the space was wide open like an empty art gallery, half the walls comprised of expansive windows, no lab equipment to be seen.

The floor closed up beneath you both and you walked around Frank, opening a secret panel in the wall. As before, you raised your thumb to a blank scanner – but got no further.

A deafening smash sent you crouching to the ground in panic. Livid blue painted all the walls in the space as shattered glass skidded across the floor.

You had thought that glass to be unbreakable. At least that was the intention. But when you turned, you were forced to believe your ears: the central panel of glass was completely blown in, all the others down the row cracked from the force.

At the same moment the glass had shattered, you could suddenly hear what before had been hidden behind soundproofing. Outside, there were shouts, screams, car horns and alarms blaring from every angle – and above all, sirens. Sirens wailing through the air like disembodied banshees, descending, apparently, on your building.

Shuffling along the floor, you peered past the sleeping mass that was Frank in front of you. Walking across the room was a man in a tight blue suit, the same hue crackling in the air around his hands.

Bolt.

Mind short-circuiting, you were frozen. What should you do?

What was Bolt doing here? Was there some kind of threat? The image of him should have brought you relief, even though you knew nothing of what the danger was, but you hesitated.

Only having the presence of mind to shrink back silently behind Frank, you looked between the beast and the control panel you had abandoned. But you had no more chance to move before a fearsome crack ripped through the air, another flash of blue, sending the hairs on your arms bolting upright.

Spinning back to face Frank, you were met with a thump. A body, falling onto the floor.

Though she was mostly obscured by Frank’s sleeping form, you stared in unbelieving horror at Taeyeon where she lay, unmoving. Breath accelerating in your throat, you moved at last, scooting yourself back and away. Closer to the wall.

First you lunged to sound the alarm, mounted inside the wall panel, which instantly lit the room up in throbbing red, blaring loud enough to drown out the sirens outside. Then your hand was fumbling across the scanner. You had to get Frank locked away.

The walls of the pod which safely contained Frank overnight began to descend, much too slowly for your liking. Whirling to face the room, your heart seized in your chest when the imposing figure of Bolt, now shaded purple by the red light, met your eyes.

A glance up at the descending walls. They were halfway to the ground by now, but you still had to enter the code to lock them down.

Bolt yelled for you to stop, barely audible over the dizzying noise of the warning siren.

As he strode towards you, you could only watch, pressing yourself desperately against the wall as if it could swallow you up.

Bright light cut through the imposing red as the heavy door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open. Bolt stopped, both of you turning to see Kuyang enter. His hair was still sticking up from earlier, a strange expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before.

Paying no mind to the maniacal smile that had no place on Kuyang’s face, you took the moment of distraction to scramble for the code lock.

Without a sound, the gap between the floor and Frank’s pod closed, and your fingers were already leaping to action, typing the numbers behind your back at lightning speed.

Kuyang was running now, a direct path towards Bolt. But Bolt turned back towards you.

You were nearly done, but his hand was raising towards you…

In a split second, your fingertip met the final key of the code. Almost instantly, it was ripped away as shocking blue light cut through the air. You felt the impact before you could even notice that it was aimed at you.

Hitting you square in the chest, white hot pain scorched through your every nerve as your body was flung backwards, powerless as a ragdoll sailing through the air. The collision with the cracked window behind was almost lost on you. More intense pain was writhing its way down each limb, making you cry out, uncaring about the rain-spattered wind that whipped about your face now.

But you could see shards of glass as they fell along with you, like daggers aimed at the ground.

Biting wind rushed in your ears, the sound crashing over you like waves. And just as a pan sizzles down off the heat, the ferocious attack of pain seemed to reduce just as fast as it had invaded you.

Your heartbeat was the loudest thing, booming over the insistent web of sirens and whistling air.

Breathing choppily, you screwed your eyes nearly closed, suddenly aware of the tempest around you as you fell. Above, the already darkening winter night was illuminated with flashes of that awful blue.

You were falling.

It hit you then, as if you hadn’t been falling all this time. But it was only now that your senses caught up with themselves. You worked on a very high floor of the skyscraper, but as you were tossed around in the air, you saw the ground rapidly approaching.

A horror gripped your chest like nothing you had ever felt before.

Below you, and rushing towards you at terrifying speed, a skip sat surrounded by heaps of trash on the street. Unable to think, you could only shield your face with your hands, stretched out in front of you as if to stop the inevitable collision.

Though your eyes fell closed, you felt the jerk that flung your whole body backwards.

That wasn’t what you had expected.

Eyes snapping open in confusion, you found your vision lit with blue. In front of your face, blue light was shooting from your palms, pushing you up and away from the ground.

Your mouth fell open. Gaping in shock, you did nothing as the light died and you slowed again in the air.

Though you began falling much slower this time, you barely had time to notice your surroundings – much nearer the ground – before you were plummeting again, and this time nothing could stop you.

Your eyes weren’t even open when you felt your body slide off something. Not a second later, you were crumpling onto hard concrete which grazed your cheek.

You groaned.

It was dark. High above, any flashes of light didn’t reach you here, having landed in a thin alley beside the building. And though this shielded you from the commotion on the main streets out front, sirens still pierced the air, each one feeling like a stab to your head.

You clutched it as you maneuvered to sit. It took you a few tries, groping for a wall or something to lean against as you regained your balance.

Eyes cracking open, you waited patiently for the dark splotches to dispel before looking around.

Right next to you was a car which blocked you from view of the road beyond this alley. Evident from the dent that caved in its bonnet, that was what you had landed on.

Turning your head, you had to squint even more as light assaulted your sensitive eyes.

Among a blazing light, you could make out the vague shapes of rubbish bags and an overflowing skip that you recognised. Out of these, a vibrant fire was now burning. The correlation was too strong for you to ignore.

Breath shallow, you turned your horrified gaze to your hands.

They had done this… but how? They looked totally normal now.

Frowning, you brought them up closer to your face, so that your nose was practically buried in your palms.

No difference.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined that blue light which saved you earlier. Was there a way to make it come back?

While you were puzzling, you lowered your hands again, still staring intently as you rotated them in your lap.

Then, quick as a blink, a blue flash darted from them again. So fast, in fact, that you had no time to react before one of the bolts was fired directly into your opposite arm.

Snatching it away reflexively, you hissed in pain as a burning sensation crawled, tingling, over your skin there.

Despite the pain, the blue light didn't cease shooting from your hands. They tingled, a strangely uncomfortable sensation. It was as if something warm was wriggling its way up your veins and spilling from your fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” you whispered in panic.

You turned them outwards, aiming away from you, but if they kept at it for much longer you were sure to draw attention.

Moving your hands around jerkily, the beams of light shook along with you, but did not go out. With each unsuccessful movement, panic made you more frantic until the glowing rays jerked erratically around the small space.

Straying too far, the light came into contact with a post at the alley’s entrance. You could only watch, helpless, as light like blue snakes skittered up it and latched around the wires it supported.

To your relief, the strange current seemed to have found an outlet, and only remained a second longer before cutting out. You were left blinking in the relative darkness. Panting heavily, you stared down at your hands, although you did not bring them too close anymore.

Once again, they appeared utterly innocent. There was nothing to suggest they had just channelled lightning through them.

Suddenly, the world plunged into darkness. The fire still burned at the other end of the alley, or you would have been left totally blind. In the building behind you, in the street, all the lights had gone out.

Almost instantly following the blackout, screaming rose again in the air.

Gulping, your eyes travelled to the blackened post at the corner, which you had accidentally electrocuted.

This was bad. Your head was spinning, both from your short, hard fall and from the whirlwind of events that had happened in what could only have been minutes. Surrounded by darkness, with the wail of the city and a fire for company, you could only see one course of action.

Run.

You had to get away from here. It wasn’t safe. You had little idea where was safe, but you couldn’t be here anymore.

It wasn’t like you had anyone to call who would care enough to come and pick you up. Nor did you have the money to try a hospital, though you felt as if you may need it.

But especially with electricity shooting from your hands at the drop of a hat, it probably wasn’t best to be anywhere around people.

The dizziness from your unfortunate landing on the car had worn off while you were sitting, but the world swayed anew the moment you made to stand. Pushing determinedly against the wall, you struggled on anyway, brand new dark spots in your vision offset by the brightness of the fire you walked towards.

This end of the alleyway led out through smaller streets, away from the city centre and furore of sirens.

On reaching the opening, you cautiously assessed the road stretching away either side. Empty. And if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t see you in this darkness.

Shoving your hands beneath your armpits on some misguided hope of keeping them from causing problems, you lowered your head and ran. It was more of a jog, considering everything, but you still moved as quickly as you could beneath the dead streetlamps.

Head throbbing more with movement, you stumbled a few times as you went. The pavement tilted around you.

You had made it a few roads before you felt that awful tingling in your arms again. It itched, like something fighting its way out of your skin.

Nausea rolled in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real.

Slowing down and stopping beneath a signpost, you drew your shaking hands out in front of you. The world careened on its axis, revolving around the sight of your palms as a faint blue glow grew in them.

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it.

You wanted it to stop.

A few flickers of blue darted down the veins in your wrist. Towards your fingertips. Sparks leapt from them, small tendrils of lightning crackling between your fingers like webbing.

At last, you gave in to the rising horror mixed with a sick feeling. The floor’s spinning became too much, your hands turning to a bright blur in the centre of your vision.

You passed out on the spot.

Lights were turning on again around the city. Television sets flickering back to life to announce Bolt’s victory against the beast that had attacked earlier that evening.

But not on the street where you still lay.

The return of light only reached neighbouring roads, dim glow snuffed out before it could penetrate the middle of this street. A white-haired young man stepped forwards, but his face was totally obscured in darkness.

“Here,” he spoke to the silence.

The next moment, a deep red glowed in the middle of the road, though it brought little light. The red bounced off a signpost before it was gone, replaced by another man, seemingly from nowhere.

The newest arrival stood there, looking down at your figure, unconscious by the sign. Then he disappeared again, leaving total darkness behind as if he had never been there at all.

A few more moments passed, you and the hidden man the only beings on the dark road.

Not very long after, a car’s engine rumbled and sputtered into earshot. The bright beam of headlights rounded the corner, growing larger and shedding light on your form as it drew closer.

Pulling up next to you, the engine died along with the lights. Two doors opened and slammed shut.

As two pairs of feet stepped nearer to join the one remaining beside you, the streetlamp directly overhead began to glow. The faint glimmer grew until it illuminated the scene. Still no other lights joined it, leaving the small group of you lit up as if by spotlight.

“It’s her?”

The man crouching beside you asked the question without looking up, and the shadowed man answered.

“Pretty sure.”

“She’s breathing?”

“Yes.”

The crouching man hummed. Moving to kneel instead, his eyes roved over your somewhat battered face, dark hair obscuring his own.

“Namjoon?” he asked then, turning to the other man from the car. It was the same man who had momentarily appeared in the street earlier.

Taking his cue, the tall man, Namjoon, walked forwards and bent to lift your hands by the wrists. In just moments he was placing them carefully back, nodding.

“No doubt.”

“Okay then.”

“Can she travel, Jin?”

“Give me a moment.”

Producing a small object, he pressed a button and a small light sprung from the end. Carefully lifting one of your eyelids, he shone the light into it, observing like a doctor.

The first you became aware of was the far away sound of voices being quietly exchanged. But with the cloudiness in your head, identifying them didn’t seem very urgent. You were preoccupied with the swirling feeling that made the world swim around you, even though it was dark.

But as dim awareness was returning to you, the process of regaining your senses was violently accelerated as a blinding light was thrust into your vision.

You flinched, and as Jin pulled away he saw you blink, eyelids screwing shut in protest. His eyebrows raised in slight concern as he watched your first groggy movements.

Blinking around at the dimly lit figures over you, your eyes widened. The nearest man held the illuminated light stick. Was he a doctor?

Next, your eyes darted to the tall man standing behind him. You recognised neither.

Some strange feeling told you someone else was standing there too, but when you looked to your other side you were faced with nothing but empty shadow.

“Can you sit?”

The first man’s question was gentle, his hands ready to support you.

Nodding timidly, you heaved yourself up with his help. It embarrassed you to be panting after just that much movement.

“What happened?” came the next question.

As you replayed the events, you avoided their eyes. You could not let them know what happened, what you had become. They were helping you, and yet you might hurt them-

Fists clenching subconsciously, you stuttered in panic.

“I-I can’t pay,” you told them, but before you could say more a new voice was speaking. The standing man stepped forwards, his voice calm and surprisingly friendly.

“There’s no need to pay. We can help you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I don’t, uh, I-I-��

His eyes travelled towards your hands, which you were trying to tuck behind you.

“You gained powers, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I have them too,” he smiled, “I know what it’s like to be scared. But you can work with this and learn to control them. I’m Namjoon, and this is Jin. We’ve been through this before, we can help you.”

At your sides, your hands relaxed. Tension lifted from your tightly hunched shoulders. Wordless, you looked between the men who were watching you, ready to move, but only on your word.

Swallowing, a light frown creased your brow.

“What do you want-”

Namjoon’s smile dimmed into something kinder.

“At least let us check you over.”

Your hands fretted together. It was strange, you couldn’t feel anything there. Surely they should feel different? How would you know if these… powers, Namjoon had said, were to come back?

“You won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” he seemed to anticipate your thoughts as he watched you, “we can protect ourselves.”

“You were unconscious,” Jin spoke, drawing your perplexed gaze back to him, “did you hit your head?”

You blinked, but found yourself answering.

“I think so.”

Nodding, Jin shuffled at your side. He leaned a bit closer.

“I need to shine this light in your eyes again. You may have a concussion.”

Complying, you sat through the eye-watering brightness. He asked you things, like a doctor would, except he was working in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night.

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“I did. I think still, a little.”

“Any nausea?”

“Yeah… but maybe because of the…” you gestured to your hands.

Jin sat back, taking the light with him. Namjoon shot you a sympathetic smile at that. You supposed he had been through the same thing, from the sounds of it.

Jin looked up at Namjoon.

“It looks pretty rough. Definitely a concussion, and she needs patching up, but in the long run she’ll be fine.”

“I-I’m serious,” you interjected, “I don’t have the money for hospital…”

Your voice faltered. You half thought of asking to just go home, but you were hardly sure of even making it there by yourself. And if you got there, then what? The prospect of burning down the place with these errant powers didn’t fill you with comfort.

“Good thing we’re not going to bring you there, then,” Namjoon said, “but I meant it when I said we could help. We can take you home, if you want… but you can stay with us, too.”

You stared at him wordlessly. Was it crazy that you were considering this?

“Just for a bit, if you need,” Jin added softly, “it’s just… now might not be the smartest time to be alone.”

You chewed your cheek. But your head was pounding too much to think very hard, and this seemed like the most straightforward option. The people in this city kept surprising you, after your first stroke of luck with Kuyang's generosity.

“Sure…” you spoke quietly, not quite able to look them in the eyes, “yes please.”

“Okay,” Namjoon took it in stride, “but let’s get moving.”

“Just one moment – we should wrap that.”

Gesturing towards your arm, Jin stood and went back to the car. On his return, he knelt again and began to secure cling film around the angry red blotch blistering your skin, where you had caught yourself with your own beam.

“We’ll sort it out properly when we get back,” he told you, “but Namjoon’s right, we should be going.”

You followed his gaze which seemed to dart up and down the street. However, nothing was there.

Jin helped you stand, still looking around. Sure enough, the dizziness from before hadn’t quite left you yet. Biting down on your lip, you focussed hard on getting the short distance to the car. You were led to the passenger seat and crumpled gratefully into it.

But just as Jin closed the door, you felt an uncomfortable prickling clutch your forearms again. Namjoon slid into the back seat in time to hear your gasp, noticing the way your fingers flexed in panic. Digging in his pockets, he produced a pair of thin black gloves and held them out to you just as the first trickles of blue appeared in your veins again. He watched with a studious frown as you pushed your hands into the gloves.

“Those will help,” he said, still looking at your wrists, “they can contain the powers. But you shouldn’t keep them on for too long.”

Jin was seating himself in the driver’s side as you frowned over at Namjoon. At first you had been relieved to have a solution to your erratic lightning problem, but that was ripped away at his last addition.

“Why not? It will keep you safe,” you questioned, but kept your voice quiet.

“Don’t worry, we’re more than capable of handling anything you could throw at us,” he laughed, “but you can keep them on in here. Best not to bottle up your powers forever, though.”

Resigned, you turned back to face front. The moment Jin stepped on the gas, all the lights in the road sparked to life at once. Startled, you blinked, looking around. On the pavement you were just pulling away from, a man was walking away, unidentifiable behind a hoodie.

Slumping back in your seat, you breathed a short, dry laugh. This mysterious happening was just the latest in this crazy night. You had no choice but to accept it.

The car ride was fairly short, but you were too tired and distracted to take in exactly where you were going. Streets seemed to blur together, aware only that you were heading out of town.

The itching in your arms had persisted for a while, but as promised, the gloves seemed to work. No fiery blue burst out of your palms, and, eventually, whatever it was decided to give it up, subsiding again by the time the car pulled up.

But no one got out yet. Jin had stopped at the end of a small road, big enough for only one vehicle, directly facing an expanse of crumbling and graffitied brick.

Curiosity woke you up from your daze, and you watched as Jin reached to tap something on his dashboard. Almost instantly, a groaning reached your ears from over the whirring of the engine. The wall ahead shook before shifting, sliding sideways until it tucked itself behind a dented dustbin, unveiling a space beyond.

Leaving you little more time to wonder, Jin started the car again and you rolled downwards through a plain, dark entrance. It reminded you of those multi-storey car parks formed with ugly blocks of concrete. It was considerably smaller than those, however, Jin pullingup into a space alongside about a dozen other vehicles, beyond which the place seemed entirely deserted.

Jin came around to open your door, but you were able to stand by yourself. It was still a bit of a struggle, your limbs sluggish and the world dull around you – although that may have just been the low underground light.

Namjoon led you, Jin staying close by your side. Blinking at the space as you moved through it, your eyes traced over the various car roofs, some cleaner than others. A larger four-by-four was particularly beaten up, with a large crease in one of the metal wheel arches.

Your eyes rested longest on what was probably the most pristine: a motorbike, at first hidden by the cars either side of it.

Soon enough, you were past them. Stopping as Namjoon did, you watched him expectantly. However, he did not turn around, instead standing face-to-face with a plain concrete wall. Except… now a low rumble announced the movement of a panel which slid away, revealing a wide doorway which had previously blended seamlessly with the flat wall.

Your eyebrows raised at the touch that was reminiscent of Kuyang’s lab. Without time for you to dwell on this, your small group moved up a dingy staircase that lay beyond the doorway.

At the top, you emerged into a new space, notably lighter than before. You assumed you were back on ground level, perhaps above. It was hard to be sure, disoriented as you still were in the whirlwind that had overtaken your day.

Bizarrely, the space appeared to be someone’s home. There was a large and coffee-stained table surrounded by mismatching chairs, a kitchen behind it littered with mugs and pot plants. Still, beyond the lived-in array of things lying around, it was big. You imagined it must be miles more expensive than the shoddy apartment you stayed in.

It was open plan, and you followed Namjoon past the dining table towards an area filled with two enormous sofas.

The back of a blond head was visible over the sofa, and now the person turned towards you.

“Guys!” a loud exclamation rang out as he leapt up. A dazzling smile spread across his mouth.

When his eyes fell on you, wincing at his sudden volume, the smile dimmed a little.

“Not so loud, Hope-ah,” Jin spoke gently from behind you.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head, smile remaining on his lips.

Jin’s hands came lightly to your back, steering you over to a sofa. As you sunk into it with relief, the blond man sat across from you, tilting his head to catch your eye.

“I’m Hope,” he smiled, “I’m glad we found you. You’ll be right in no time!”

Frowning, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over the damage on your face. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip absently.

What did he mean? I’m glad we found you…

Had they been looking for you? You still weren’t sure if it was a lucky coincidence they found you, but perhaps it was something more.

The lingering ache in your head forced you to push the issue away. You missed Namjoon’s stern look at Hoseok as he hovered behind your seat.

Jin pulled a pack from a cupboard and set it beside you. You let him lift your arm and unwrap the burn, your unfocussed eyes dragging across the room while he applied something cold over it. Next came stinging, scattered over your face as he wiped at the small cuts and grazes with an apologetic grimace you barely saw.

You only forced the world back into focus when someone else entered your sight. Emerging from behind you, a gentle, friendly smile was directed your way from a man with pale pink hair. Swallowing, you never managed to smile back before he was turning away.

The pink-haired man reached a hand out to someone you couldn’t see. Another man appeared, walking towards him, but he never looked at you. Or if he did, it was obscured behind the black hair that fell to his eyes.

The two new people left towards the kitchen, though not without another smile from the pink one.

Who were all these people?

Frowning after them, you were interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Jin.

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to rest.”

Looking around, you had half a mind to protest, but were overruled by the shakiness taking over your frame. Body too fatigued to allow you much say, you meekly followed Jin.

Beyond the living space, a thinner corridor led away, several closed doors along its walls.

Further you went, until a door just ahead opened. Another person walked out.

When he stopped to face you, his posture remained stiff. Tall and muscular, he was clad all in black except for a towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair fell messily around his head. But you had little time to take this in, as his eyes fixed themselves fiercely on yours, rendering you unable to look away.

Mouth remaining in a hard line, his expression only twitched further into a frown.

Then his gaze flicked abruptly away, travelling to Jin just beyond you.

“Kook-“

Jin never got further than that before the man strode forwards, marching sharply past you and away with a scowl. Turning after him in surprise, you watched his tense shoulders disappear behind Namjoon, who you hadn’t noticed hovering.

Namjoon stared sternly after him, but the man seemed to avoid his gaze.

Jin sighed, sending an apologetic glance at you.

“That’s just Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke, ushering you all further along the hallway, “don’t pay him any attention.”

“Why was…”

You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to ask. Neither of them made an attempt to answer.

You had no idea a wordless encounter could leech so much hostility into the atmosphere. Picturing Jungkook’s glowering face, you blindly followed the others through a different door.

“You can sleep in here.”

“Hm?”

Shaking yourself, you looked around the new room. There wasn’t much to see. Beside a low bed, there was a mirror, a wooden closet and nothing more. Looking up, you didn’t even find a light in the ceiling. The only light leaked through from the hallway.

Clearly reading your gaping mouth and furrowing brow, Namjoon moved in front of you.

“Don’t worry, this is just a place to sleep, nothing more. But since you’re going to have to take those gloves off, we can’t have you in a space with any electricals.”

Stepping back defensively, your fingers pressed tightly together. Having the gloves on had let you almost imagine that nothing life-changing had happened. Like gaining unpredictable powers, for instance.

Namjoon watched patiently, holding out a hand.

“You don’t need them…”

He realised he had never asked your name, and let his sentence trail expectantly. Telling him your name, he relaxed into a smile.

“You don’t need them, Y/N,” he repeated, not that you believed him for a second, “you’ll be perfectly safe. And so will we.”

Only the yearning to collapse onto the bed persuaded you to hand over the gloves. The instant they were in his hand, you swore you could feel a shock go up your arm. Immediately tense again, your breathing became shallower, with no idea how to try and stop power shooting from your hands any moment.

But Namjoon and Jin seemed content. Before you could gather your thoughts, they had left, closing the door and drenching your room in near total darkness.

Stumbling to the bed and virtually falling into it, you wiped sweating palms against the fabric. Your mouth was dry with fear.

This couldn’t have happened.

Alone for the first time since your initial panic, it didn’t take long for your mind to wrap itself in circles again. Only hours ago, you had been sitting happily in your bright office, going through the motions…

One split-second decision from a powerful man had changed that.

You knew full well he had intended for you to die. But he was Bolt...

He had probably forgotten about it already. The guard he sent lifeless to the floor, the secretary he threw from the building.

Itching feeling returning, you swallowed desperately and raised your hands. Sure enough, against the darkness, blue pierced your vision, darting its way up-

Turning your face away, you flinched as the outburst came. Your eyes screwed shut, you pressed your cheek into fabric, not wanting to see the deathly lightning that shot through the room. Shuddering breaths broke into your lungs when at last it subsided.

Letting them fall, limp, to your sides, your hands fisted the covers tightly.

You were almost afraid to open your eyes, knowing it would only show you the empty room, confirmation that this was real. You were dangerous, shut in a safe room where you could hurt no one. Would you ever get out? Succeed in controlling this, like Namjoon had said?

With no idea where you were, barely any idea who the people here were, you wanted to block it out. But even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t escape.

The memory of Jungkook’s suspicious face made your heart sink. Perhaps people should be afraid of you, now. As much as you may want to, there was no getting away from this.

Pushing yourself to sit, you surveyed the room. Eyes accustomed to the blackness a little more, you could make out vague shapes. Your breath fell alone in the silence. This really was the safest place you could be right now, even if it was a nightmare.

As your head turned, you suddenly came level with your eyes in the mirror, and a shock of light.

For an extended moment, you could only stare.

Then all at once you were rushing forwards, tripping from the end of the bed. Bracing your arms against the wall either side of the mirror, you gaped at your reflection.

As you watched, an angular bolt of blue shot across your irises, which were already dimly glowing.

You gulped against the thick feeling crawling up your throat. Faced with this, you could no longer have any hope of denying it.

This was really happening.

Thank you for reading!! Please please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, comments make it all worthwhile!💜💜

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[caffernnn]

okay hiii I’ve come back to be loud about Haru again

Having thoughts about him after revisiting this dream sequence in FS2 (from this translation, for reference) and considering the shift in how he addresses and responds to his ever-changing overwhelming fears and emotions. It’s a moment that stands out because unlike so many moments we’ve seen before (like ones previously mentioned), he doesn’t let himself run.

For context, this scene comes at a moment where although it seems like Haru has broken away from his isolation (not fighting with Rin, not ignoring everyone, has been training with friends again, etc), he’s still charging forward with a ruthless and reckless tunnel vision by himself that isn’t sustainable. In the water, where he’s “most himself,” where he’s fighting alone (no relays in sight yet), he doesn’t think about sustainability or taking care of himself or anything outside of the moment. He pushes himself on all fronts in a dangerous way that leaves him exhausted, getting a qualifying time, but at what cost? He’s still holding too much by himself, fighting for a goal he can’t let others know the extent of (and won’t even let himself begin to understand the extent of) — Haru’s still running away from his friends/emotions/fears and charging toward his salvation or doom (because he’d take either of those ends over the mortifying ordeal of stopping long enough to be known; he’s a shark who has to keep swimming or he’ll die). All of this to say, this dream sequence comes in after Haru pushed himself too far during a race and passed out in the hallway alone.

In the dream, older/present Haru watches from the outside as a younger version of himself (the vulnerable version, the scared version, the parts of himself who stoke the fires of fearing they’ll always end up alone) cowers and runs away from his first relay teammates at the invitation to swim with them all. Older Haru catches him and stops him, giving his fears a moment to speak before responding. What’s hitting me hard is how he simply tells himself “I only swim free” to explain why he’s running, why he’s insisting on being alone, but the depth of what that means is revealed in what he told his teammates before running (“I don’t get such a thing!”) and how his older self immediately responds (“these feelings are everything”).

He runs because he’s overwhelmed. He runs because he doesn’t fully understand/process his emotions right away, and they’re all so much. He runs because if they feel like too much for him to handle, how can he expect anyone else to hold him, when he still holds fear and guilt about being the reason others have moved on from his side? It’s all at the core of why he isolates: a scared part of himself, a part of his inner child, wants to protect him in the one way he knows how.

This scene stands out because for once, neither of them get to run. Present Haru lays his heart bare, sees himself crying in the face of it all and doesn’t turn away, even insists that feeling a range of emotions with the intensity that he does is all worth it and what makes his life rich. He looks at himself for what he is (the young adult who wants to swim, the kid that took a chance to fall in love with the sport in the first place) and says that he’s enough, that they’re enough. “Be yourself, live how you feel — your decisions aren’t wrong. If it’s you…” it’s a push for him to take chances in trusting himself and trusting others, fully trusting them. It’s a first step, a drop in the water, and a possible turning point for Haru that I would’ve loved to have seen more of.

I think this moment sticks with me because of conversations we’ve all had about this being a lesson it felt like Haru learned at the end of Eternal Summer. He learned to accept that they were all changing, he figured out a path forward he wanted to pursue, he seemed to find peace (moving into s3) about how growth made demands of him to try new things (a new city, new routines, individual medley, etc). It’s one of those things that made us go “how is he isolating again, how is he falling apart again” when all of the angst of FS/FS2 came around, but it makes sense. You can have all of the best intentions and growing moments in the world, but when you’re met with a situation that overwhelms you, you’re likely to fall back on the familiar, on the habits and coping mechanisms that protected you before. Fighting on the world stage is a transitional period that makes large demands, and Haru doesn’t have the support and mental wiggle room he needs to consciously meet that overwhelm with a mindfulness that’s still relatively new to him (that takes energy and effort and vulnerability and time he doesn’t think he possesses). If you’ve been there, facing a burnout you’re scared to look in the eye because it’ll dismantle so much of what you’ve been building towards (the ideal, the expectations, the goals you look at as so solid that trying to adjust them might make them break), you get it.

I think this is why I want to see more of Haru in his recovery period and in that time skip. I want to see what Haru does with his revelations, how he acts on this relearned lesson and renewed effort to let himself be seen while in-flux and constantly changing, trusting his friends (or at least some of them) to stand by him through it. There’s weight in how the dream ends: how Haru smiles watching his younger self be approached by his teammates, how he wakes up surrounded by some of those same faces in person ready to support him. The movie moves forward into the magical relay, the time skip, the “happy” conclusion in Hungary, but I’m still so curious about those moments we didn’t get to see: how Haru healed, how he stayed attached, how he found his way again. It’s another curiosity that might serve as eventual fic fodder for me tbh

What if… instead of late night rambling about Haru on twitter… I do it here instead

Hmm. ‼️BRAINROT INCOMING‼️

[nausikaaa]

2024 Roundup

hello! it's that hazy period between christmas and new years, so i didn't even know what day it was until i got tagged for SSS by @that-disabled-princess. i don't have anything to share presently, but Rose, @run-for-chamo-miles @forabeatofadrum and @confused-bi-queer also tagged me for a writing roundup, so here i am!

i wrote 8 fics in 2024, and as i looked through them i realised i wrote literally all of them for events or as gifts. i also worked a lot on an original wip, and started another! however this still leaves the months pretty spotty, so i decided to add in some other achievements hehe.

this is long, but i added photos!

January

i started writing a fantasy novel i have been rotating in my brain for literally years, featuring beloved OCs i've also had for years. it got to 7k words by the end of the month. however i was also attacked by a new novel idea.

books read: Percy Jackson- The Chalice Of The Gods by Rick Riordan, Atalanta by Jennifer Saint, All The Violet Tiaras by Jean Menzies.

February

this is the month where i really knuckled down and got to grinding on my greek myth retelling. i sat in a wetherspoons for an entire day, edited everything i had so far, and wrote until i finished part 2 of 7 (the parts aren't equal lengths) i ended up with 37k words.

books read: The House With The Golden Door by Elodie Harper, Emperor Of Rome by Mary Beard, American Hippo by Sarah Gailey.

March

no writing in March, but i did visit Whitby for my birthday and help with lambing. i also saw Natalie Haynes talk about her newest book in York.

books read: Dragged Up Proppa by Pip Fallow, Helen Of Troy by Bettany Hughes, The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes, Divine Might by Natalie Haynes.

April

i wrote two fics for @carry-on-sapphic-week!

Spitfire- In the morning, someone will come to collect me, and I will have to leave Niamh, and Simon, Baz, Penelope, Shepard. The friends I have made, and the love I have forged. Back on dry land. How am I supposed to return to the life I had led before, how am I supposed to agree to some other arranged marriage, to another man I have never met, who cares nothing for me? How am I supposed to give up the pistol I have kept close for over a month and pick up my embroidery again? 1.9k words.

Rosebud Girl- I never thought it would be an art class that finished me off. I had hoped it would be a bit of stress relief, a creative outlet sorely needed between my real classes. It’s at a community centre on campus, a short walk from my morning law class. I should have just stuck to football, and said fuck creativity. We’ve moved on from fruit to figures, and the table in the centre of the room has been replaced by a model. A nude model. A nude Simone Snow, my first year roommate. 2.7k words.

books read: The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman, The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman, The Last Devil To Die by Richard Osman, Great Goddesses by Nikita Gill.

May

my goat Juno had her kids, Olive and Jem, but decided she didn't like them very much, so i became their second mother, topping them up with milk. this was a sleepless, stressful month, so i didn't write very much.

books read: Caligula by Simon Turney, In The Shadow Of Vesuvius by Daisy Dunn.

June

my OC wip got to 14k words! and that's about it. i didn't even manage to go to pride this year. i mostly just continued to bottle feed the goats.

books read: Protest- Britain On The March by Mirrorpix Photo Archive, A History Of The Roman Empire In 21 Women by Emma Southon.

July

i wrote two fics for @carryon-disability-week!

comfortable coats, calico cats, and collapsible canes- Simon plans a spontaneous date, but Baz is worried his bad leg will put a damper on things. Luckily, Simon has come prepared. 2.4k words.

a fist amidst the hands- Simon can wield a sword, but not a pen. Baz thinks he's figured out why, and wants to help. Simon just wants to sleep. 2.5k words.

books read: A Short History Of The World According To Sheep by Sally Coulthard, Facing Down The Furies- Suicide, The Ancient Greeks, And Me by Edith Hall.

August

i wrote a fic as a friend's birthday present. i also visited Edinburgh for the fringe, saw the best production of Antigone in my life, and visited the art gallery while i was there.

A Day In Epirus- Pyrrhus is running late. Hermione has a way of distracting him, when today of all days she should really know better. Not that he can hold it against her, when he was so enthusiastic himself. But it’s Molossus’s fourth birthday, and he has a full itinerary to cross off. 2.3k words.

books read: Roman Mysteries- The Thieves Of Ostia by Caroline Lawrence, Roman Woman by Lindsay Allason Jones, From A Rock To A Hard Place- Memories Of The 1984/85 Miners' Strike by Beverley Trounce, Dynasty- The Rise And Fall Of The House Of Caesar by Tom Holland.

September

no writing except for chipping away at my original works. my trojan war retelling hit 60k words!

we also got a new puppy, her name is Suzie. she's mad as a box of frogs.

books read: We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, Percy Jackson- The Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan.

October

again, just writing my original stuff. it was my nephew's first birthday though! not really my achievement, but still. we went pumpkin picking to celebrate.

i also saw Terry Deary and Edith Hall give talks at Durham Book Festival, and Terry Deary answered my question!

books read: A History Of Britain In Ten Enemies by Terry Deary, Alcestis by Katharine Beutner.

November

i wrote a sequel to my previous year's fic for @carryonthroughtheages! honestly, shoulder to shoulder is probably my favourite fic to have written, and this was a close second.

give them hope, give them strength, give them life- A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. 7.9k words.

books read: Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, The Sheep's Tale by John Lewis Stempel.

December

my OC wip stands at 15k words.

my trojan war retelling stands at 65k words!! my goal for the end of the year was 69k, because that sounds funnier and less daunting than 70k, but there are only two days left. let's see if i can manage it, 2k a day?

i got to see my friends for christmas, we met in Manchester. all of us simply making it through this year is the achievement i'm proudest of.

i also wrote a fic for a secret santa exchange in a classics discord server i'm in, it was a lot of fun!

sweet music playing in the dark- Penelope and Odysseus, throughout the years, together or apart. 3.8k words.

books read: Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan.

this has been so fun, it's nice to reflect! i tag @cutestkilla @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @ninemagicks @otherworldsivelivedin @meanjeansjeans @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @carryonmylovelies and anyone else who wants to do this! sorry if i hit anyone who has already done so.

[youngjusticerulez]

My favourite lines from The Trails of Apollo The Hidden Oracle lol-

Spoiler alert!!! Also it's pretty long

The others seemed confused. Then the glow became brighter: a holographic golden sickle with a few sheaves of wheat, rotating just above Meg McCaffrey.

A boy in the crowd gasped. 'She's a communist!'

(I refuse to elaborate or give the next line)

Bacon is good.

Yes- that may be the title of the song: 'Bacon Is Good'.

(again I refuse to elaborate)

With my left leg bound to Meg's right, I felt the way I used to be in Leto's womb just before my sister and I were born. And yes, I remember that quite well. Artemis was always shoving me aside, elbowing me in the ribs and generally being a womb hog.

Or perhaps when I accidentally saw Ares naked in the gymnasium. That had been enough to turn my hair white for a century.

Yes, me, Apollo...ashamed. Truly, it was an event so unpredictable it should have ripped apart the cosmos.

I didn't understand the purpose of the seeds, but it was comforting to know that in a direction emergency I could hit people with my ukulele while Meg planted geraniums.

Any of the moments when Rhea called Apollo 'man' or just randomly says chill and basically uses millennial slang (I think millennial) is just hilarious lol

Out of ideas, I tugged my Brazilian-flag handkerchief from my neck and waved it like a maniac, trying to channel my inner Paolo.

'BACK, FOUL ANTS!' I yelled 'BRAZIL!'

The tone of the scream reminded me of Hera whenever she stormed through the hallways of Olympus, yelling at me for leaving the godly toilet seat up. (LMAOOO CHILL HERA CHILL)

Another time, Artemis shot me in the groin because I was flirting with her Hunters. (HEHEHEH)

I stared at my beloved dumpster waif. Yes, somehow over the past week she had become beloved to me. (I read that as wife first. The line is referring to Meg btw)

I felt as if dozens of important statements, each vital to my survival, were being blended together, loaded in a shotgun and fired at my face.

(Oh, that's a rather good image. I'll have to use it in a haiku.)

PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME WTF HAIKU MEANS

I could not stand the idea of being abandoned. Not again. Not by this ragamuffin dumpster queen whom I'd learn to care about so much. (Aww Apollo called her queen✨ they're bonding :D)

'Is this really safe?' she yelled.

'Perfectly!' I hoped I was right. 'Perhaps even safer than the sum chariot!'

'Didn't the sun chariot almost destroy the world once?'

'Well, twince,' I said. 'Three times, if you count the day I let Thalia Grace drive, but-'

'Forget I asked!' (THALIA WHAT DID YOU DO-)

Buck-naked statue

A Neurotic Colossus

Where art thy undies? (I'm sorry this is a chapter title but it's too ridiculous to not include)

Malcolm looked like the perfect battlefield commander, except for the fact he'd forgotten his jeans. His red briefs made quite a statement with his sword and leather cuirass. (LMAOOOO)

Also... did I mention that the hundred-foot statue was entirely nude? Well, of course it was. Gods are almost always depicted as nude, because we are flawless beings. Why would you cover up perfection? Still, it was a little disconcerting to see my buck-naked self stomping around, slamming a ship's rudder at Camp Half-Blood.

As we approached the Colossus, I bellowed loudly, 'IMPOSTER! I AM THE REAL APOLLO! YOU'RE UGLY!' (bro is unhinged as fuck)

'Will, Kayla, Austin,' I said, 'come with me.'

'And Nico,' said Nico. 'I have a doctor's note.' (SOLANGELO SOLANGELO SOLANGELO)

I had forgotten about the power of shadow-travelling the way children of the Underworld could step into one shadow and appear from another, sometimes hundreds of miles away. Hades used to love sneaking up on me that way and yelling, 'HI!' just as I shot an arrow of death. (I imagine Hades giggling like a school girl)

'You guys go,' Will told me. 'The chariot is only designed for three, and after that shadow-travel Nico id going to pass out any second.'

'No, I'm not,' Nico complained, then passed out.

Will caught him in a fireman's lift and took him away.

'Good luck! I'm going to get the Lord of Darkness here some Gatorade!' (MORE SOLANGELO)

I try to avoid weapons that talk. I find them rude and distracting. Once, Artemis had a bow that could cuss like a Phoenician sailor. (Sounds like me)

The moment Percy's faithful pet landed on top of the moving Colossus, she yelped and proceeded to wee-wee on said Colossus's head. The statue froze and looked up, no doubt wondering what was trickling down his imperial sideburns. (Percy has a Hellhound named Mrs O'Leary? Damn)

Harley and his love for stealing smiley face stickers from the infirmary and sticking them on his flamethrower. It's wholesome <3 and honestly I would have done the same if I have any stickers

And boom I finished the book :D

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

~~

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good. 

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds. 

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that. 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile. 

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...” 

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.  

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile. 

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?” 

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen. 

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.        

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.” 

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip. 

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?” 

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled  for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead. 

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.” 

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash. 

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.” 

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile. 

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

-

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off. 

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble. 

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility. 

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face. 

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze. 

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.  

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.  

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of. 

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing. 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.  

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head. 

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. “I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response. 

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true. 

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully. 

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze. 

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice. 

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him. 

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

 -

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile. 

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

~~

Chapter 2!

[ramayantika]

I was in no mood for studying. Every time my eyes glanced at the page of my textbook, I would try to understand the concept, but my efforts were in vain. All the words flew above my head, and my mind was cluttered with a hundred different things.

I was humming a tune with my feet tapping to the beats. My fingers tried to rotate an empty pen flawlessly as my mind raced with thoughts about the upcoming tests, with catchy tunes from Instagram reels serving as the background music.

Sighing, I placed the pen on my open notebook, scribbled with equations and definitions, and grabbed my phone from my bed. I peered outside the window, silently admiring the quiet roads of my society. It was 11 p.m., and I could see a few balconies lit with golden LED lights that looked warm and cosy.

Below my window were green bushes and jasmine plants that were filled with white buds, ready to bloom at dawn. I plugged my earphones into the phone and opened YouTube to play my favourite go-to songs to soothe my mind.

And just like that, my body began swaying to the familiar tunes, and a smile graced my lips. Deciding that I could no longer stop myself from dancing, I quietly locked my room from the inside and unplugged my earphones.

Opening my braid, I let my hair fall loosely down my shoulders. Admiring the curly ends that had formed because of the tight braid, I smiled at the mirror and admired myself in the mirror.

Dressed in a long grey sleepwear T-shirt and black capri, I wasn’t a sight to behold at eleven in the night, especially for someone who had spent all her day studying. I looked exhausted after all the mental labour my brain had to do, but the open hair and the light breeze from the window did make me feel a little refreshed.

Aankhon ki gustakhiyan came up, and I grinned at the mirror. I twirled in the room as gracefully and quietly as I could. Kavita Krishnamurthy’s part came up a while later, and I was ready with katakamukha mudra to enact a woman shyly opening her veil to her beloved.

Aankhon ki sharm-o-haya maaf ho

Tumhe dekh ke jhukti hain

Uthi aankhen joh baat na keh saki

Jhuki aankhen woh kehti hain

I pretended to peer down while darting my eyes for a second at my imaginary lover in the mirror at the last line. Taking another twirl, I began practicing a few hand combinations for the instrumental part while practicing an easy-going, graceful smile in the mirror.

Quickly lining my eyes with kajal and applying a bindi to the centre between my eyebrows, I hurried back to the middle of my room, which acted as my imaginary stage, and giggled to myself while blushing hard for the upcoming stanza.

Kajal ka ek til tumhare labon pe laga loon

Haan chanda aur suraj ki nazron se tumko bacha loon.

I dabbed some kajal from the corner of my eyelids and applied it below my lips, and then I acted to be completely besotted with my beloved.

Har dum tumhe sochti hain

Jab hosh mein hota hai jahaan

Madhosh yeh karti hain

Moving my fingers around my kohl-lined eyes, I closed them a little and curved my wrists in a spinning motion to show the state of being drunk in love.

My eyes for a second moved outside the window and went downwards at the bushes when I found a boy staring up at me. I gasped and averted my eyes while scurrying back to the door to calm my racing heart.

I counted the rapid beating of my heart until ten and tip-toed to the window again. Hiding half of my face behind the curtain, I peered down the window to check if the boy was still standing there or not.

He was!

“No use hiding. I have already seen you. You dance really well.”

Blushing at the compliment and at my embarrassment, I replied, “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” The boy asked.

The white lights were dim, and some were already switched off. I could barely make out the boy’s appearance. I could spot a bike and the boy standing beside it, all dressed in a sleeveless grey tank top and black trousers. His hair tousled because of the wind, probably from the bike ride, and his face was half hidden thanks to the dim street lights; he looked no less dreamy.

I wondered how I hadn’t seen this guy before.

“Sameera. Yours?”

“I will tell you if you agree to meet me at the society park tomorrow evening. I am new here, though.”

Taken aback and slightly amused at his forwardness, I said, “I have my dance class in the evening.”

“When does your class end?”

“At 6.30 PM.”

The boy thought for a while before saying. I silently looked at him, wondering what in the fictional novel world I had actually seeped into when he looked up at me again. “I will see you around 7 then. Goodnight.”

Passing me a two-finger salute, he sat atop his bike and sped off towards D-wing. After a minute, I tapped my head and stood in front of the mirror to contemplate what had happened in these ten minutes. Aankhon ki gustakhiyan had finished a long time ago, and Dekha ek khwaab had begun playing.

I rolled my eyes while trying to hide the bright smile on my lips as I glanced at my reflection. Hiding my face in my palms, I closed my textbook and notebook. Placing them on their rightful shelves, I made my bed, and with a strange, warm smile, I went to bed. My mind was now fixed on the boy on the bike outside the window.

***

Taglist: @alhad-si-simran @ramcharantitties @jukti-torko-golpo @navaratna @krishna-priyatama @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @krsnaradhika @kaal-naagin @houseofbreadpakoda @aesthetic-aryavartik

This was supposed to be a short story par nahi hua so maybe with enough motivation I might just end up writing this in parts to fuel my writing with end sems kyunki dimag isn't dimaging well :(

IT'S 1 AM NOW?? HOW BYE I WILL GO SLEEP AND WAKE UP TO STUDY TOMOROW

Also if you want to be added in the taglist, do let me know

[strugglingwriterwattpad]

Walter Deville teaser

As she tightly gripped the entrance door, her heart skipped a beat as the melodious sound of her mobile ringtone echoed in her ear. With a sense of intrigue, she glanced at the screen to find an unfamiliar number glowing brightly. Without hesitation, she swiftly answered the call, her voice filled with a hint of curiosity. "Miss Stoker speaking," she uttered, her hands instinctively seeking warmth within the comforting embrace of her coat. “good evening, Miss Stoker. I am calling on behalf of my employee Lord Deville. The Lord has taken quite a liking to your recent paintings and would request to purchase every single one of them.” As she received the quick and emotionless request, a chill ran down her spine, sending shivers of anticipation through her entire being. It was a request that held the power to ignite her creative soul. Each and every painting from her recent collection flashed before her eyes, their gothic designs and dark colours dancing in her mind's eye. The numbers representing their worth swirled around in her head, filling her with a sense of exhilaration and joy. “Sir apologize for the silence. But I you sure you have the right artist. My pieces aren’t exactly the most popular pieces on the market.” She stuttered finally having the strength to enter the gallery and head to her office.

“ I am very sure mam. Lord Deville has been captivated by the pieces for some time now and has sent over a contract to your public email address.” (Y/N) eagerly unlocked her laptop and dove into her overflowing inbox, her heart pounding with anticipation. And there it was, like a beacon of hope, the subject line that caught her attention, illuminating the screen with its splendour. As her eyes met the dazzling digits of the price, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins, causing her sparkling eyes to widen in sheer delight. “this all seems too good to be true sir. I will have a read through the email and get back to the lord as soon as I'm done.”

“very well mam. We hope to hear from you soon.” As the old butler hung up the old-fashioned phone he looked back at his master with a poised nod. “it is done, my lord. Miss Stoker will read over the contract now.” In the dimly lit confines of Carfax Abbey's office, a solitary candle cast eerie shadows upon the vintage desks. The lord of the manor, an enigmatic figure, sat upright and impassive, poring over the printouts of (Y/N)'s website. “is it really here sir? Has our lady finally returned to us?” the butler spoke still keeping his emotions locked away. “it would seem so Mr. Fields.” the lord muttered. Finally, his old laptop flashed with a new email from the woman he had longed to see for centuries. “dear lord Deville. I am very pleased with the proposal sent to me. Unfortunately, the pieces have one more day in my personal gallery, but I can assure you after tonight’s event, I will have them sent of to your manor as soon as possible. I will send you over delivery reports once sent over. Warm regards Miss Stoker.” As Lord Deville's eyes scanned the message, a sly smile crept across his face. His heart, once as cold as ice, began to thaw with excitement. However, he knew better than to reveal his emotions just yet. He would keep his composure until he had his beloved back in his arms, where she belonged. As he sat in the dark, his fingers gracefully twirled the golden ring, its presence on his long finger a testament to his patience. With each rotation, the jewel embedded in the ring shimmered, mirroring the sparkle that once danced in her eyes, a memory etched in his heart.

[seabirdtxt]

What if the reader in the Bloodletting au had a lover (one of the playable characters) that they thought cared and loved them as they were, but ended up being one of the power hungry acolytes that drove the reader to the ground?

i was in the middle of writing p.2 of the voice au but this ask came and slapped me directly across the ass

Through Their Teeth

Notes: Extension of [this]. Genshin SAGAU, cult/bloodletting AU. my favourite trope of "well well well if it isn't the consequences of your own actions". no specified LI/character, feel free to imagine who you want!

WC. 760

----- ⚘ -----

In a world where You bleed Your love both literally and figuratively, there is only one person who treats You with gentle care, tending to Your wounds and urging You to reduce the frequency of your bleeds.

You sink into their embrace when they finish wrapping bandages around Your arms and legs, closing Your eyes as you rest Your head on their shoulder, never quite noticing as they bring their gold-stained fingertips to their lips behind your back.

With the Abyss and Celestia closing in on all sides, all Vision bearers who were fighting-fit were sent to the front lines. Your dear heart left you reluctantly, making You promise to take care of Yourself in your cold, lonely temple with only blades and rivers of Your own blood for company.

With every rotation of troops, You eagerly welcome Your beloved home with open arms and open wounds, though they seemingly adamantly refuse to drink from You like the others.

With every rotation, they return increasingly exhausted. You beg them to share in Your blood, to let You give them the strength to continue on, not knowing that as You sleep Your dearly beloved steals down to the channels and dips both their hands into Your ambrosia, and laps the liquid blessing from their sinning palms.

When the troops are worn thin and begging You to bless them further, You teeter on the precipice of uncertainty, unsure if You are willing to give so much more. Until Your beloved looks up at You from where they kneel, exhausted and bruised.

‘For you,’ You think, as you drag your favourite blade across your patterned skin. ‘I’ll do it for you.’

Your acolytes waste no time gathering each precious drop, sucking Your blood down like greedy leeches, light pulsing under their skin as Your blessings take hold.

It’s to Your great surprise and heartbreak that Your beloved barely flinches as they consume their share, already accustomed to and eager for their part of the communion.

The others are all already turning away when Your dearest heart turns back to You with golden lips and a golden smile, enveloping You in a sweet embrace with whispered words of worship even as they lick the last traces of You from Your blade, gently lowering You into the plush, bloodstained seat of Your throne.

‘Sleep now,’ they soothe you, ‘and dream of the victory that we will win in Your name.’

Your beloved had grown used to seeing Your beaming face as You stood in front of Your temple, scarred arms flung open in anticipation of a welcome hug.

And so this makes it all the more shocking when the troops return, barely days after their final communion, to find Your temple crushed and scattered to the wind.

The acolytes tear through the rubble frantically, as those involved in the search begin turning over every broken stone for signs of You or Your attackers.

They thought they’d won! They thought that the victory they earned would guarantee Your safety in the balance of the world of Teyvat.

Days pass and the chances of finding You alive become slimmer with each passing moment. Among the last acolytes to continue searching is Your beloved. A fervor has overcome them, fanatical in their insistence on finding You. Any piece of You.

What started as a simple manipulation on Your dearest’s part spiraled much too quickly into a deception they couldn’t control. First to sneak closer into Your good graces, and then a means to guarantee a source of Your blessing for themself, and finally as a way to covet Your love and trust selfishly for themselves and them alone.

Thousands of questions swirl through your beloved’s mind as the last of the rubble is cleared. Have You ever known honest love from them? Has Your beloved ever sincerely thanked You for Your service to Teyvat?

When the temple grounds are cleared and there is no sign of You anywhere, not even in smears of gold on the ground, only a few questions remain.

In the last moments between you, did You finally understand the scope of your beloved’s lies? Were they worth that final, terrible sacrifice that they’d asked of You?

… if they found You, would You forgive them?

There was no way to know who broke first, not really, but the rest of the acolytes can agree that only one person could make such a terrible, raw sound of grief that they’d all heard in the last moments of twilight, as the sun finally sets on the ruins of Your temple and the golden light fades from the world.

[kaleidoscope-eyez]

Sylki Fic Recs - August 2023

So, I finally decided to go through the Sylki tag on AO3 and pull out some of my personal favorite Sylki fics! I may have missed a few, but from now on, when people ask me for fic recs, I'm just going to point them right here!

These are pretty much in descending word count order, since that's how I sorted them on AO3. And I think I stopped around 2k words, so things that are less than that don't appear.

(Fair warning: I included some of my own on there, too.)

Enjoy!

Epic Length fics (+100k) – Rated G-T

As Long As You're Mine by Shoalsandsuch*

Welcome to Westview by KaleidoscopeEyez

Heal The Cracks Within My Heart by Chipper99*

Gone, I'm Gone by Shoalsandsuch

Epic Length Fics – Rated M-E

Love & Mischief by Sasquita

The (Mis)Match by Sasquita

skin on skin by Palmarion

Becoming who I was never meant to be (But did anyway) by overIndulgence

A Promise of Peace by neonheartbeat

From Jotunheim With Love by kytsos, Wonderchild90*

Medium Length Multichapters (Up to 100k) – Rated G-T

Baton Pass! (Round 4) - Collab

Of Love and Daggers by litladyloveshp*

Sweet Nothings by Shoalsandsuch

Frost Queen - Collab

Pets are a reflection of the soul by overIndulgence

The Search: A Domestic Adventure by IngridGradient

Life is beautiful by Korsarri, Madam_Violet

Love Child by KaleidoscopeEyez

The Race To Your Heart by navy_bushes 

Sylki Advent Calendar (Baton Pass! Round 3) - Collab

Fire & Gasoline by BeanBarn*

The Lost Goddess by KaleidoscopeEyez

Vivaldi Doesn't Square Dance by LunarDust, preserumping

Somewhere Only We Know by KaleidoscopeEyez

Sylvie and The Beast - Collab

To Make a Heart Whole by Adrift_in_thyme, Aritou

Rotational Symmetry by Neolights, PinkCanary

Delicate by Shoalsandsuch

Loki Actually by Padawan_Writer 

Adventures in Lokisitting by KaleidoscopeEyez*

Our Shared Eternity - Collab

Medium Length Multichapters (Up to 100k) – Rated M-E

How Sweet It Is by Wonderchild90

Frost and Flame by professnerdiness

Into the half light (and through the flame) by BrightBlackTrees

RE: ARRANGEMENT by neonheartbeat

Wherever You Are by Aevianya

We'll Find A Way by professnerdiness

By the Glow of the Rune by IngridGradient

The Providence We Create by amadness2method (CynSyn), overIndulgence 

Perfect Partners by variant001*

Roots and Branches by PinkCanary

Like the Moon Needs Poetry by IngridGradient

Wings - Collab

Not as planned by StrangeNoise*

Seconds from destiny by PicassoPickle

An Heir And A Spare (The Extended Version) by nostalgia

Foundations by BumbleHumbleBee

The Edge of Disaster by PinkCanary

and when you start to feel the rush (a crimson headache, aching blush) by Palmarion

No Prisoners by preserumping

the right kind of madness by Palmarion

Technicolor Dreams by kytsos, Wonderchild90

We're Screwed by kimikokun

Sylki in Suburbia by The_Hourglass_Muse

The strangest power of all by StrangeNoise

Letters to my Beloved by AndySkull

drunk on you by Palmarion*

Concept Art by IngridGradient

The Learning Curve by kytsos*

To Be Felled by You by D_A_Cullum

Torn in Two by UnderwaterArch*

A Marriage Between Realms by professnerdiness

Back to Lamentis by TTerran*

Candy Crush by kytsos, Wonderchild90

i guess that's love (i can't pretend) by Palmarion

The Perfect Lie by Padawan_Writer

The Isle of Mists by preserumping 

When I'm around you by AndySkull

One-Shots – Rated G-T

Bright Purpose by daggerlovie

second nature by neonheartbeat

Cravings by KaleidoscopeEyez

Fire in the Sky by KaleidoscopeEyez 

Bleeding Hearts by Eithniel, KaleidoscopeEyez

Eyes by daggerlovie

The Loki Trap by KaleidoscopeEyez

10,000 Unhappy Meals by UnderwaterArch

all in the golden afternoon by Palmarion

Lamentis-1, 2077: A Return by KaleidoscopeEyez

Time Keeps on Slippin' (Into the Future) by KaleidoscopeEyez

One-Shots – Rated M-E

Insatiable by catalystcomet

slow (how you wanted it to be) by PinkCanary

the word of your body by Palmarion

Crammed by catalystcomet

but you never go away (so I guess I gotta stay) by��PinkCanary

The Prince, the Princess, and the Dozen Cupcakes by KaleidoscopeEyez

* Denotes an unfinished/ongoing fic

[cursed-candlehop]

Have a not-so-quick overview of all my active Rooks (with actual screenshots for once in my life) because I should be drawing and I don't wanna.

Fede Mercar

A sweet, gentle lad; realized at a very young age that to survive as a free Elf in Tevinter, one has to be useful (but not intimidating), and his most consistent way of being useful was being entertaining and playing the fool - but his humor is a soft and caring thing. He tends to deliberately position himself as someone to be laughed at to defuse hairy situations or cheer up people he likes. Unfortunately for him, that often means looking a heckuva lot more clueless and incompetent than he really is, but he considers that a worthy sacrifice.

Had a shockingly decent childhood, all things considered, and he really does love his parents - but he's still afraid his unlikely adoption might have been a publicity stunt: "look, you really can civilize an elf if you get to them early enough" or something along those lines. He's never actually asked, worried that they've come to love him enough to tell him the truth. He doesn't want to know.

(Fede is also, notably, the dork who loses his virginity in a coffin; Emmrich's legit the first person he's ever found both interesting and trustworthy enough to (badly, clumsily) flirt with - and somehow it worked. He's extremely surprised by that, but also not about to question it)

Jehanne Ingellvar

Pretty, confident, academically brilliant, wildly talent at magic, and blunt as anything. Raised by a rotating cast of Mourn Watch teachers, their most constant companions were the corpses of the Necropolis - which left them with exactly the social skills you might expect: good for spirits, bad for polite corporeal society. They mean well, but they do not suffer fools gladly - and to them, that might just be most people. Despite their occasionally somewhat stern exterior, though, they are an idealist at heart (and one that ultimately wants even the fools to be happy. Ideally somewhere else). They're definitely somewhat of an asshole sometimes, though.

Fina de Riva

Was picked up by house de Riva after being orphaned (and trying - and almost succeeding - to pickpocket Viago). Uses her charming looks as a weapon - she loves manipulating people, but she also doesn't like harming innocents, and the Crows give her the opportunity to harness and indulge her base impulses as much as she wants without having to feel overly bad about it. Most of her targets have it coming, anyway, as far as she's concerned.

She starts off more than a little ruthless, until Neve enters the picture and they end up enabling each others' softer sides.

Reva'sahlin Aldwir

(... got a nickname because Varric needed something shorter to yell in battle so this fucking idiot doesn't take an axe to the skull)

Born to a particularly bedraggled Dalish clan in northern Orlais, he was gently encouraged to GTFO as soon as he reached adulthood: Not only did his clan have too many mages as it was, they also figured that this wildly curious, overly trusting goofball was a ticking demonic time bomb. Since the other clans of the area largely agreed and didn't want him either, he traveled instead - tried to live with the city elves for a while but they hated his guts for being Dalish and not subtle about it. And so, he travelled towards Arlathan - more because he needed a goal in life then because he thought it was a good idea. It took him a solid seven, eight years to get there, taking the long way through Orlais, the Free Marches and Antiva, sometimes staying in one place for months; upon getting there he joined the Veil Jumpers... and then promptly pissed them off, too.

Despite everything, he's a bafflingly genuine, sincere and happy-go-lucky guy - might be a remnant of spending his childhood until his magic came in as the clan's beloved golden boy - though he does have oodles of emotional baggage that he considers "nobody's business but his own".

He's also kind of a shit mage (until Bel, Emmrich and Neve get him up to speed) - he ends up as a Spellblade, because he spent most of his life a lot more used to carrying a dagger than a staff. Which drove Varric up the walls at first.

Has heterochromia; both of his eyes started out brown, but he injured one of them while getting mugged somewhere outside Kirkwall and his botched healing magic tinged it fade-green.

(... I also have like three or four more Rooks cooked up, but they don't have actual, started playthroughs yet)

[silver-dragonborn]

Draft #1: Prologue of Ascension

This is just a prologue of my upcoming multi-chaptered fanfic I call Ascension. It's a HOTD/Skyrim crossover in which Rhaenyra and Syrax find themselves in a strange land during a flight gone wrong. Rhaenyra finds herself embroiled in Skyrim's politics, Civil War, and a dragon invasion, but survives every challenge and becomes High Queen of Skyrim after she slew Alduin. This is an extremely rough draft in which Daemon finds her after years of searching.

He is currently going through a severe culture shock because he has never seen an orc or an elf before. Plus, he's finding out for the first time that his niece is already a Queen when she has an inheritance back in Westeros.

Some things to know before you read:

>Rhaenyra fought for the Imperials as she sympathized with Elisif and killed Ulfric, crushing his rebellion under her foot.

>Syrax is on High Hrothgar learning from Paathurnax. Rhaenyra is still her rider, but lately, Syrax has become bigger and more independent.

>Rhaenyra does not trust the Thalmor, but her household is diverse and she strives to undue certain harmful laws and permit Khajiit to be allowed within cities and towns. She also had a town built for the Argonians of Windhelm so that they might live in peace and ensured the Dunmer were treated far better than they were under Ulfric's rule.

>The four children are the orphans of Skyrim: Lucia, Alesan, Sofie, and Blaise. Rhaenyra took pity on these children and took them in as her wards. She gives them an education, food, and arcane lessons and prepares them to hold esteemed positions within her household once they reach age. The children are fiercely protective of their mentor.

>Rhaenyra wields a blade, but her gift lies in the arcane, and like Viseyna, she uses magic like a pro.

Please do not repost or reblog.

Prince Daemon's polished boots click-clicked against the highly polished floor. The chamberlain’s silken slippers squeak-squeaked along behind. The echoes of both snap-snapped from the glittering walls of the Blue Palace and around the great, hollow space, their hurry-setting lazy dust motes swirling through bars of soft light.

Daemon's travel boots, scuffed and supple from long use and dragon-riding, made no sound. This...this was the foreign land his niece had fled Westeros for. “Upon entering the presence of Her Excellency,” the chamberlain’s words droned out, “you advance towards her, without undue speed, looking neither right nor left, your eyes tilted down towards the ground and at no point meeting those of her Excellency. You stop at the red line on the carpet. Not before the line and under no circumstances beyond it but precisely at the line. You then kneel—”

“I will not kneel,” said Daemon not even bothering to grace the chamberlain as the man was queer in appearance with too-dark skin, ghastly glowing red eyes, and ears with sharp tips. A Dunmer. An elf. Grumps and Snarks come to life unsettling him in the worst possible way. But the elf was one of many of his niece's stranger subjects.

Lizardfolk, green people with tusks, furred cats that walked on legs, and golden-skinned elves with impossible beauty. Even the humans were exotic with their ability to use any weapon of their choosing and permit the women to fight alongside the men or defend their homestead.

The chamberlain’s dark head rotated towards him like an affronted bird's, a snarl upon his thin lips as he practically hissed at Daemon. “Only the heads of state of foreign powers are excepted! Everyone must—” “Rhaenyra Targaryen is my niece. I will not kneel.” The chamberlain's lips parted open in shock, his slight body quivered with outrage, but Daemon snapped over him, temper crackling. “By the Fourteen Flames! I have not seen my niece since she disappeared on her dragon! Her Excellency does not give a fuck whether a man kneels if he is her beloved kin. I am her uncle.” Two armor-clad guardsmen lifted their crossed halberds to let them pass, and before the chamberlain could announce him, Daemon shoved the double doors wide open. He was eager to greet his niece, eager to take her in his arms, eager to take her back home to claim her birthright and heal Visery's broken heart.

The hall beyond was cavernous, opulent, and grand with dragon banners and statues on either side like silent sentinels. Fit for the throne room of the most powerful woman in Skyrim. The throne room of the Red Keep was grand, but this rivaled that of the Red Keep. A thin black carpet stretched away down the mosaic floor, a red line at its lonely end. A high dais rose beyond it, a dozen men and shockingly women in full armor standing guard in front.

Upon the dais was a grand throne carved from raw ebony. Within the throne was his missing niece, Rhaenyra Targaryen High Queen of Skyrim...Slayer of Alduin...Dragonborn. She was dressed all in imposing black armor, but the severe look on her beautiful face was blacker and her hair was tied in a long braid with two loops on either side of her face. She has grown, Daemon thought, a curl of unease blooming in his stomach as she stared down at him as if he were a stranger and not the man who had spent years and gold to find her.

A peculiar and foreign selection of people, three scores or more, of all races, sizes, and shapes, knelt before Rhaenyra and her retinue in a wide arc. They carried no weapons now but Daemon guessed these fine men and women carried many. Despite their strange appearance, Daemon knew what they were. Killers. Soldiers. Hounds. All of them killers. Like him...and apparently, like his niece, too.

They say she kills dragons, that she devours their souls, and when she speaks, the ground trembles in awe of her Shout.

Daemon advanced towards the dais, without undue speed, looking neither right nor left. He passed through the half-circle of assorted couriers, noting four children almost close to adulthood, and stopped precisely at the line. He watched the still-annoyed Chamberlain stride past the guards and up the steps to the throne, leaning to whisper in Rhaenyra's ear, the four children watched Daemon with silent suspicion and Daemon noticed that each child had a weapon strapped to their waist.

Rhaenyra stared at Daemon for a long moment and Daemon stared back, the hall cloaked all the while in that oppressive silence that only great spaces can produce. “So it truly is him. Why are you not kneeling, Uncle?” “He does not kneel, apparently,” snapped the Chamberlain with heat. Rhaenyra waved his angry words away with a regal hand, each finger adorned with ruby and ebony rings that glistened in the light.

“Everyone else kneels. What makes you special, Uncle?”

“I am a Prince and your kin,” said Daemon.

“But you do not kneel.”

“Because we are family and I have spent years searching for my niece...for you.”

"Make him kneel!" snarled one of the children, a dark-skinned boy dressed in strange garb who made as if to grab the mace at his hip only for a girl, a brown-haired little thing, grab him gently by the wrist and shake her head, but her eyes were hard with fury on her Queen's behalf. "Peace, Alesan," Rhaenyra cooed, raising her hand to silence. "Daemon is my Uncle. He is stubborn but still blood of my blood and a dragon." The boy, Alesan, scowled and kept his peace, but still glared at him with a mutinous expression.

"Lucia, Alesan, Blaise, Sofie...return to your rooms and resume your lessons." The softness in Rhaenyra's eyes hardened and from a distance, dragons roared. "I will see to my Uncle...and inquire about the state of Westeros and its King...my father."

[paint-lady]

🖊 + Maru!

Send me a “🖊+an OC“ and I will talk about that OC! It can be a headcanon, a fun fact, a small paragraph of backstory- anything! Alternatively, send in just a “🖊“ and I will talk about any one of my OCs at random!

Oh, Maru my beloved.

Maru "Maru-Maru" Maru is my character in Secret World Legends and my NPC (and eventual PC) for the Secret World ttrpg. They are the current OC im constantly rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken.

I had attempted to write a longer form comic for them and even finished a first chapter. Unfortunately, life got busy and started taking more spoons to other tasks and I am not able to dedicate the time and energy I want to the comic. And thats okay. In the year I have been cold, I have expanded upon the Maru-verse even further, and discovered even more interesting loops and details to incorporate. And I cannot wait to illustrate them one day.

So without further ado, please enjoy this extensive lore breakdown on Maru-Maru:

For your convenience this post has a keep reading <3

Name Significance: Of course Maru is not their given name. Its partially a joke, partially an echo of a long-lost memory, partially a misheard role to fulfill, and their first grasp on their identity.

The name Maru firstly comes from my Exalted Zenith character. My partner and I wanted to name our bees after them, as a way to honor the fun we had with such a short campaign. Little did we know how smoothly Exalted and SWL can blend together- the transition from one age to the next, apocalypses rising, and powerful beings beyond comprehension changing Creation. The tone is certainly different though: an Exalted chronicle is uplifting and with epic heroes to save the world, whereas SWL is riddled with uncertainty about how long the collective will of reality can hold.

The SWL version of Maru can barely remember their previous incarnation, it's more like a weird dream than anything else. If they look to closely, the memory vanishes; like the people of the Third Age trying to grasp their memory of the Second, and their predecessors before them. The golden light within them feels different, yet can still vanquish monsters with their touch, and aid people plagued by nightmares seeping through cracks in reality.

A more recent discovery has played nicely into my friends headcanons and names of their characters. SWL Maru was discovered by experienced agents of names Inanna and Ninshubur in Kingsmouth. While the name Maru is not a Sumerian/Assyrian deity, Mamu is. There is not a lot written about Mamu. They are most notable for being a god of dreams and having both male and female depictions. We love a lil gender fuckery in the pantheon. There was temple built in Imgur-Enlil (modern Balawat) to them. Dreams were not seen as depictions of the subconscious (thanks Freud) but rather true portents of the future. This is all over the epic of Gilgamesh as a literary device to keep that long ass story going. Regardless, the Assyrian King who had dreams of Inanna vanquishing his enemies felt the portents were significant enough to build that temple to the messenger: Mamu. Additionally, there are oodles of accounts of death-dreams and glimpses into other worlds (namely the Underworld) across several sites, whether its recorded dreams from priests and priestesses- or more Enki myths.

And this is what Maru does- even by accident. They catch glimpses into the other worlds, talk to other versions of themselves to relay messages and warnings, and make sure Inanna and Ninshubur are aware of whatever weird shit is out there. In the SWL ttrpg, I intend to have Maru explore this role to fulfill more, as a messenger and a dreamer. Funnily enough, the surname I gave Maru is 夢宮: Yumemiya, which can translate to Yume: dream, and Miya: a shrine, or place for gods. Don't you love it when the narrative falls into place like that? (But in truth, I borrowed the surname from Kanae Yumemiya, an actress who portrayed Usagi in a Sailor Moon Live production...)

Lastly on name significance, we have the japanese translation that Maru means ◯, and is literally a circle. Depending on the characters used to spell Maru, it can also mean truth, and expanded to mean a complete unending cycle. Putting two ◯◯ together is like censoring a name or word, similarly to how $#%&#! is used in English. In a way, Maru-Maru is saying their name is Redacted, or blankety blank or So-and-so. This was incredibly hilarious in the SWL game when QBL labels the player a terrorist after climbing Orochi Tower. Ah yes, you've definitely found the ringleader who set off the Tokyo bomb: It was ◯◯! Excellent journalism, QBL, no notes.

But in truth, its a clever and funny way to hide themself. Searching Maru on google is gonna get you a stardew valley villager and a cute, chubby cat youtube sensation. And they like it that way.

So whether it's Maru, Mamu, Redacted, ◯◯, or some other weird fifth thing, they'll always be that one odd baby bee who reaches across dimensions to keep reality running just a little longer. They won't have to face the end alone, in fact, its statistically improbable.

And if you survive. If you are still you. Think on the questions. Remember when you were a bright little thing, so full of questions?

THE LIFE CYCLE:

Time is a funny thing when dealing with several versions of the same individual. The smallest changes completely alter a course of events. Many Marus recall gaining their bee not long after the Tokyo Filth bomb around 2012, and being swept up by whichever agency got to them first. Many recall their parents working tirelessly at their jobs at the Orochi Group. They learned how to cook for themself at a young age because Mom and Dad wouldn't be home til late. Many recall the first time they heard the buzzing static was as young as 6, following the sweet whispers through a soon-to-be park and a newly planted flowering tree. There are a few that never receive a bee, or receive their power through other means. These timelines are the strangest ones.

A riddle to kill a sphinx: What's one, then three, and then one again? Wait- that's not how it goes...

The Lumie, Templar, and Dragon Maru all share the same origin. Depending on where an outsider glances, the three realities are so close, they are nearly one. Nearly. They grew up in Kaidan with their parents. They did attend the Orochi-sponsored schools and attended several programs, but flew right under the radar for "gifted abilities" that Orochi was seeking. Little Maru was aware of whispers in tv static, rattles in old pipes, the shrieks of summer cicadas Evangelion style. As a young child, they marched to the beat of their own drum, ignoring or indulging the whispered warnings as they saw fit. The dreams were harder to ignore, but when they told their parents about the big scary monsters that couldn't get out- it was written off as their overly active imagination. After all, they had failed an aptitude test to get into the nearby elementary school near their work. Its uncertain whether or not Maru's parents knew what that test was truly analyzing- and whether or not they were relieved to see they failed. Decent Orochi employees have excellent poker faces.

Sometimes one is born special. Sometimes specialness is genetically modified into one. Not every child is equal.

As they grew older, the supernatural continued to burrow into their eardrums. Maru was an average student, but occasionally received top marks on answers whispered to them. They earned a reputation for being a little bit of a tech whiz, and had an observant eye for finding errors in codes. Not really a "super power" but troubleshooting tech is an immensely useful skill. Maru was exceptional at the ol' percussive maintenance with old printers, punchcards, and fax machines. When things went to digital interfaces, Maru found the tried and true "have you tried turning it off and back on again," to be a real winner.

When they didn't want to hear the whispers, they'd make use of bulky, noise-cancelling headphones. Maru would often be seen wearing them outside of class and in their home, enjoying the peace and quiet. Maybe the headphones were a placebo. It only worked because they believed it worked. However, at night, their mind would be plagued with vivid dreams and even louder whispers and messages. Headphones can't keep hide the noise if its already in their head. Frustratingly, they'd always wake up and immediately forget what they dreamt. This was their normal. Caffeine to keep themself up during the day, wear headphones to keep out the messages, and TV to drown out the static at night.

And there wasn't really anyone to talk about it with. Last time some Orochi kid fessed up to their weird dreams and whispers, he'd definitely vanished. Teachers said the student moved away, but Maru knew his parents still worked in Faust upper management. Another girl said she could hear thoughts before you could finish thinking them. Maru thought that one was bullshit- but she disappeared too. Lesson learned. Keep the static to yourself.

Don't fear It. Fear Nothing. Fear the Foundation. It's no wonder; they say once you hit four, it's all downhill from here.

When it came time to apply for highschool, a few of their peers found this "Clubhouse" and despite its messaging, were blabbermouths about it. Maru always felt uneasy about the place. If there were whispers saying they had nothing to fear, they didn't trust it. They couldn't believe the claims that were coming from this place. Free drinks? Can play games as long as you want? You can be yourself without any fear? Maru especially didn't trust the last one. None of their classmates knew how they felt wearing the girls uniform. None of them knew how exhausting it was to shut out the whispers, keep the eyes on them sated with just the right expectations, and then complete their coursework on top of it all. Maru absolutely did not want to "perform" there either.

Upon finishing highschool, Maru was presented with an opportunity. They'd complete a university comp-sci degree and then immediately dive into a job at the company. Orochi is not devoid of nepotism. At first, this seemed ideal. They'd attend university in New York, and take their summer internships with the American branch of Orochi. Should everything go well, which... it was going to go well that was the expectation... they'd be looking at a substantial salary and generous benefits while working in the Tower.

America was loud. America is loud. But the sheer volume of everything drowned out the buzzing whispers. They still needed the headphones to drown out the rest of the noise though. They could focus a lot more on themself outside of the Orochi bubble, even if their presence was just a few streets away.

Maru figured out a lot about themself in the four years at Uni, especially the gender thing. They enjoyed building weird robots and programming them to do silly things- in addition to their assigned tasks. They enjoyed the few college parties they attended. They even had a steady, long term relationship with a classmate named Caesura (nods back to Exalted). As graduation loomed, they dreaded going back home. They realized how much time they spent alone and really did not want to go back to that solitude at Orochi. So they avoided it. They delayed their graduation by a year and a half by swapping majors, making absurd connections and promises with subdivisions of Faust and Anansi, and prolonging which classes they needed to graduate.

What was the cause of all this, sweetling? Where is the zero point?

Everything changed sometime in 2012. Maru couldn't get anyone on the phone back home when the bomb went off. Even the work lines in Faust were gunked up. They have zero clue if a letter they wrote made it through security and into Orochi's headquarters. Caesura had also vanished. (Unbeknownst at the time, the man was abducted by the Dragon. In most timelines, he does analog calculations for the faction, figuring out where pieces need to move rather than doing field work himself). And then they get their bee, freak out and wreck their apartment, get nabbed by one of the big three, and then get sent out to Kingsmouth.

Things start to break and differ sometime after this for our Red, Blue, and Green iterations of Maru. They all admit to being unaware of their prowess for chaos magic before meeting two other big bees: Ninshubur and Inanna. It was Ninshubur who gifted the confused baby bee a chaos focus, and Inanna gifted a them an empowering gadget. Receiving these items are one of the more prominent cracks on the flickering timelines on the Reality Engine.

Though the most prominent tears in their time are when the Dreamers made themselves known to Maru. The first, a gift. The second, worship. The third, freedom.

Templar!Maru, believes they were tricked by the gift. They swear they would have never have listened to the bubbling voices, but deep down they know that they fell for their sweet words. Whenever the Dreamers approached them, they were certain to make sure they'd never be fooled twice. Their choices are marked with unbound Blue wings.

Dragon!Maru had already begun developing their philosophy on the cyclic end of the world: however messy and destructive it was going to be, whatever was going to rise out of the ashes was going to be just as magnificent. Decay is a form of life. They morbidly want to see what the world will look like at the end, but have to be strong enough to make it there. Accepting the gift, begrudgingly worshipping, and freeing the Dreaming Ones is all part of their dream. Their wings drip with filth. Unease sits in their stomach, they do not know if they'll get their wish.

Lastly, Lumie!Maru was keen on not listening to more voices in their heads. They are the only iteration to refuse the gift. Their wings gleam gold. What is done cannot be undone, and they loathe that their defiance to one set of voices is obedience to another.

Go ahead, glance back. Don't sweat it, sweetling. You won't turn to salt and you can't make yourself impossible. History will conserve itself. The continuities will hold.

Again, time is funny when dealing with several iterations of the same individual. The slightest changes make immense impacts on their lives. There are Maru's who graduated on time. There are Maru's who never left Kaidan. These individuals work with Orochi, whether they want to or not. There are Maru's who's last memory is the filth exploding from within that guy's jacket. There are Maru's still sleeping. There are Maru's who joined the Council of Venice, there are Maru's who hacked the Swarm's game back, and fled their factions. There are Maru's who want nothing to do with the secret world and just want a peaceful goddamn life with their wife and accounting job. There's a Maru who is just really into boats...

But they are all connected, tethered to one another. Like a rat king on reality, fated to meet and tangle.

FUN and STRANGE DETAILS:

BLOODY VALENTINES: Uta, the rabbit killer in Kaidan, is three separate individuals who used to inhabit the same body. Lilith is responsible for splitting her like a worm and separating the sibling souls into new bodies. Maru is an anomaly: they are physical duplicates of the same individual existing simultaneously. Both Maru and Uta fight with unprecedented coordination, switching aggro and balancing their buffs between the three of them. The showdown at the top of Orochi tower was certainly a spectacle... And a vocabulary lesson for swears in several languages. Some agents have noticed the similarities between Maru and Uta, but Maru is quick to squash any speculations. This is not because the two actually know each other, but more Maru does not want anyone to know their Orochi background if they can help it.

The buzzing on Uta reveals some interesting clues about Maru and their existence. Uta was not plagued with insanity but rather hypersanity for the new age- and with new software there are bound to be bugs. While Maru didn't absorb their twin in the womb or was misdiagnosed with schizophrenia; Maru was also sensitive to whispers just outside reality. And so were other children born around the same time. Maybe Maru and that generation of kids got the patched version.

A LUCID DREAM: The Black Signal, or John, tells the Chuck's who will listen that he's no longer singular, he is plural- but remembers what it was like being a sole individual. To Maru, this is so old news. In fact, Maru loves to snark back at him saying that he is not special and they're plural too. There are many Maru's. The Black Signal doesn't really tend to listen to this. Maru may be many, but Maru is still meat. If they would hatch, then they'd have a new conversation. Again, Maru disregards this, and says they've spent enough time being an egg.

They don't want to think too hard about what it means to have "hatched." They know John's not talking about them being nonbinary. Maru is an adept and experienced enough chaos user at this point to recognize when a timeline is too different for them to safely pull on. There's a phantom pain in their outreached hands and fingers when they try to go too far. They are aware that there are some selves they used to be able to call upon and cannot anymore. Something about them has changed. They are aware they can become "out of sync" with their doppelgangers or even be "out of phase," and get stuck somewhere overlapping two or more timelines. But to not be able to call themself at all is terrifying. If only they had the ability to glance at all it all from the outside ... oh.

At least, Maru can't do this consciously. Some versions of Maru have swapped places with their doppelgangers in their sleep or had rude awakenings of being pried from bed to be used as a meat-shield for another. While dreaming, they can go anywhere- so long as they don't forget how to wake up. These ones don't know how close they get to bleeding out of reality.

MAKE THE RIGHT CHOICES:

In my SWL playthrough, I of course ran into a whole bunch of bugs and glitches. And I love them. But, there were times that it made the game do absolutely weird things- which provides some very fun stories to weave into the glitch. The most notable was at the Second Choice in the City of the Sun God. At this point, my partner had played ahead and was almost through Translylvania when I had finally defeated Aten. He knew there was an Ultimate Move behind the choices and spoiled a little (with my permission). I didn't know what "Blue Wings" meant but I understood to get them I would need to, against my better judgement, listen to the Dreamer's at least once. So after defeating Aten and being greeted by the Filth bird saying "hey you should do the worship emote" I then obliged and typed /worship.

And the game crashed. No worries- this happened all the time for me. My laptop would get obscenely hot running this game and would shut itself down so it wouldn't fry itself. Upon reloading, I had to do the Aten fight again but found myself having trouble with some of the UI interface. Reloadui did not solve the issue, and I found myself in front of the Filth bird again. I typed /worship and Maru did nothing. I opened the emote tab, and clicked, and Maru would do nothing. In fact, all of my emotes were not functioning- except the dances.

I laughed as I watched Maru dance and devour tacos in front of the Dreamer, not knowing how frustrating it must have been for the cosmic entity to watch some small, nascent angelic thought just proceed to do anything but what it requested. How much longer? Out of frustration, I eventually attacked the creature, triggering the next cutscene. The Dreamer's were angry, and I laughed and laughed.

Now the strangest thing is in game play, Maru sometimes has golden wings. I have had friends say they see blue wings and I will see gold on my screen. I've also had the opposite. In all cutscenes, they are blue. Considering the overlapping timelines, it seems like Lumie!Maru's almost choice bleeds through onto their timeline sometimes.

INITIATE THE D20 SYSTEM:

I have been very fortunate to be the storyteller for some very avid fans of the Secret World and have presented an alternative timeline to the world they know and love. Maru of course, is no exception to this. Everyone is operating with different times and circumstances. Eventually, I will get the chance to play Maru in the game. But for now, Maru has only made one appearance: to Olivia, the newest bee of the group. Of course, Olivia has zero idea what implications she has encountered by merely interacting with this version of Maru, untethered to their doppelgangers. The TTRPG timeline is indeed one of the strangest.

Thank you for reading this absurdly long OC lore post, I have spent easily 3 week writing and editing and rewriting and adding. I hope you enjoyed and it sparks some fun thoughts about SWL and maybe a lil Exalted. As a treat.

[derelictheretic]

OC TAG GAME

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefae and @detectivelokis !! Ty 💕💕💕

Not quite sure whose done this since i've been. absent. so i'mma send tags out to @deputyash @bluemojave @adelaidedrubman @bl-beater @jollybone @clicheantagonist @florbelles @unholymilf @henbased @ishwaris @megraen @shellibisshe @trashcatsnark @v0idbuggy @wewillryesagain No pressure as always !!

Favourite OC

Currently I would say Lola is holding that spot, she's fun to draw and write for and I just spin her in my brain like a rotisserie chicken all day she brings me so much joy to think about. She's also my first transfem OC so she,,,,, is so special 2 me <3

My consistent faves of all time tho are my boy Damien (my half demon half vamp man), my girl Lucy (She is a unicorn shifter and I Adore she sooooo much) and ofc my creacher Dean uvu

Oldest OC

Damien!! He's from my first original story I ever made and I've had him for 7 to 8 years!! He rotates in my head forever even tho I barely talk about him 👉👈 His story has changed a few times but his design has stayed pretty consistent! He means the world to me and so does his story and one day I will bring it to life ashsjsjs

Newest OC

That would be Lola!!!! I'd been wanting another unhinged lady to play around with and felt like having a pink murder lady as well and thus Lola was born 🥺 She brings serotonin and I love playing around with her relationships with the other characters!

Meanest OC

Hmmm this is a tough one but it's probably Heather! Heather is actively mean on purpose and loves her passive aggression and tearing people down through her words. She smiles while pointing out all ur insecurities and faults and will laugh if u cry <3 bestest worstie wife ever <333

I have a few other mean OC's like Rilo (Demon lord) but he's on a much bigger scale of wanting to commit genocide against all supernatural creatures soooo he's just like evil less so just mean. Very smile in ur face while he obliterates ur very atoms kinda vibe,, hate him so <3

Softest OC

This is impossible I have too many softies,, But probably Lucy! She's a pacifist and just has the biggest heart, she's very empathetic and always wants to help people even if there is nothing she can do in a situation. She also is just very soft in nature like she has a gentle touch and soft voice and sweet eyes that will make u cry and tell her all ur problems while she holds u.

Most aloof/standoffish

I have a few of these too lol I'd say it's a tie between Michael, Silas (Eldritch horror slasher) or Pheonix (Marvel OC besties with Wade). Silas probably wins because he doesn't tolerate talking to humans in any circumstance and just seeing him tends to send people running. Silent, brooding, grumpy eldritch horror man my beloved.

Smartest OC

I have a sentient AI OC called HEXX and he has knowledge from all across the galaxy (being an AI for a spaceship he needs it lol) so I'd say that'd be him! Ask him anything and he has the answer, just don't ask him about love bc he will have his 1010th identity crisis and the ship will suffer it's 1010th failing and emergency landing :)

Dumbest (affectionate) OC

Hmmm i'm gonna say my baby boy Ky bc he's my literal himbo lmao He has zero thoughts in his pretty little head!! Only loving friends and having fun!!!! Golden retriever boy only know eat hot food and love everyone!!!!! No but he genuinely is so,, so stupid,,, the one thing he can somehow do on his own is cook, baking is off limits he will burn down the kitchen......

OC's I'd be friends with irl

I have a few I think it'd get along with so I'll narrow it down to three!

Piper; We would vibe in a makeshift tree house and play video games and I'd listen to her gush over women (Faith) for hours and she'd judge my horrid taste in men <3 She'd probably also beat me in poker and steal all my money.

Fredrick; my genderfluid god would take me to so many concerts and drag me across the country to get something they bought off of eBay and I would have a blast.

My lil tech nerd Keiden; he likes coding and games, I can kind of code and like games, it just makes sense. We'd play raft and Minecraft and make epic structures and talk about what we would do different with the game mechanics.

[crowmancing]

tigerheartstar design for my rewrite au. i decided to give him the golden tabby fur he was originally meant to have before he became the quadrillionth tiger clone in the series. this is both because i'm sick of the whole "fighting tigerstar's legacy" thing that the erins are doing with these guys when really it should've been limited to just bramblestar and hawkfrost (it doesnt even WORK for tigerheartstar anymore because he's doing anything but fighting his grandfather's legacy. dude is becoming a literal clone of him). also because it never really made sense to me why tawnypelt would name her kid after her awful dad who she PERSONALLY witnessed commit all of these atrocities and had a whole thing about realizing that he's an awful person. i've seen some aus do a nice explanation for it, and while i've briefly considered it, my tawnypelt wouldn't want anything to do with her father, after spending several books coming to the terms with the fact that he's an awful person and not the same dad that she remembered as a kit. i think the mere idea of her having a kid that looks just like him would be reopening some awful deep seated wounds for her and i honestly think she deserves a break. Hence, she decides to name him after her beloved mother, Goldenflower, who raised both her and Bramblestar all on her own following Tigerstar's betrayal and was ready to beat the shit out of anyone who dared compare her kids to their shitbag father. Goldenheart as a name works so much better for him on so many levels because it implies a degree of honesty and kindness when similarly to his canon self, Golden is nothing of the sorts, (though he does keep up the appearance of being an honorable warrior/leader, which is what makes him such a good manipulator). Also in this rewrite, he isn't mates with Dovewing because their whole relationship is quite honestly such a massive ick to me that I cannot bring it in me to try and fix it. They're just really good friends who come to each other for support. Which is why Dovewing feels a lot more comfortable moving into ShadowClan when she has her kits, since he's been the only person who was really there for her since her time as an apprentice. Feel free to send an ask to my main, hadescabin , if you are curious for more details on my rewrite. it's still a massive wip but it has been rotating in my brain forever now as a result of my hatefixation on warriors. ANYWAYS that aside his design is loosely based around golden tigers since I still wanted to keep his whole tiger motif for the tigerstar i parallels in the recent arc.