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gucciwins · 2 years ago

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it’s a date...maybe

Word count: 1975

A/N: hi!!! so the talk show blurb got a bit of love and some of you wanted a part two so here it is. I hope you like it, please let me know if you do. it would mean so much to me. happy reading, amores!

You were nervous.

Your time in London will be limited for now. There were interviews you had to do, the job of promoting was never short. Having a new film debuting soon and doing interviews with the cast of The White Lotus, your schedule was booked and busy that does not mean you didn’t have time for coffee.

After the surprise facetime call on Jimmy Fallon with Harry Styles, they stayed in communication. We sent a few texts back and forth until Harry confessed he felt he wasn’t the best at texting, so we resorted to talking on the phone. It felt juvenile, but you liked the intimacy it brought you. Harry’s voice was soothing, and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. When there were moments of silence, you’d ask him another question because you loved hearing him talk. Harry seemed to catch on after a bit.

“Not that I don’t like telling you about myself, but I want to hear from you,” he told her over facetime, having finished a story about the secret present they got his mum, and he, of course, spoiled minutes before she could open the gift.

You look away bashfully from the screen, “I like your voice,” you confess. “I find it soothing, could listen to you all day.”

Harry giggles, “that’s a relief, means I’m on the right career path.”

You chuckle. He was so smooth; it all seemed to come easy to Harry. When Harry asked you a question, your mind went blank because he still made you nervous. You’re not sure if you had that effect on him. It didn’t seem so.

Talking on the phone was less intimidating than meeting in person. Harry had proposed a date to meet for coffee in a shop near his house. Dinner was what he had initially proposed, but it seemed your schedules were booked in the evenings. So, Harry proposed coffee and promised it wasn’t one of those chain coffee shops and that there would be good coffee and pastries.

He hadn’t called it a date, but why did it feel like one. He simply wanted to meet you, that is all. You were mutual fans of each other and would be getting coffee, that simple. Yet, your hands could not stop sweating. Having lived in London for a few years, you were thankful you listened to your mom when she said to get your license. It made getting around from place to place more accessible and allowed you not to rely on anyone.

Walking into the coffee shop, you walked in and instantly relaxed. Only two people were inside the shop, not counting the employees; one was Harry. He was sitting at a corner table with a view of the garden of flowers the shop had out front. He was quick to stand up when he realized you had walked in.

“Y/N, hi.” He greeted you and raised his hand for you to shake while you opened your arms for a hug. You both froze for a second, and he laughed when he saw the panic on your face.

“I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.” You run a hand down your face, embarrassed, hoping the ground would open up and swallow you. “My mom’s a hugger, and it seems I am too.”

“I could go for a hug,” Harry answered generously.

You allowed yourself to meet his eye and saw he was telling the truth. He opens his arms for you to walk into, and after double-checking, you wrap your arms around his waist while his hands settle on your back. It’s a warm embrace, and you quickly find yourself sinking into him. You aren’t sure how long the hug lasts, but you break it when you feel you’ve invaded his space for too long.

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Harry.” You tell him, taking a seat across from him.

Harry grins, and you melt in your seat when you get a flash of his dimple. He had a perfect smile, and it made you wonder what his lips could possibly taste like. You pushed away those thoughts because here you were, meeting Harry for the first time, and were thinking of kissing him.

“You as well, Y/N. It has been lovely getting to know you,” he shares.

You nod in agreement, “it’s all thanks to you for saying yes to surprise me.”

Harry scratched his eyebrow, and it’s then you noticed a red tint take over his face. He was blushing. “To be honest, I did it hoping to meet you.”

You bite back a smile. Harry has you feeling like a teenage girl wanting to squeal at his every word. “Well, it seems you succeeded.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted a drink.”

“Think introductions were more important.”

He taps his fingers against the table, his rings glimmering through the bit of sunshine peeking in. “Do you trust me to choose a drink for you?”

“Hmm…” you ponder it for a second. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Harry gets up, promising he’ll be a few minutes. You take the time to get a look at him. He’s dressed casually. In laid-back ripped jeans, a white top, and a pale yellow cardigan. His large green jacket hanging off the back of his chair. You see him chat with the barista, sharing a shy grin, waving goodbye, and leaving a tip in the half-full tip jar.

“Madam, this is for you,” he places a cup in front of you and one for him. Then places two pastries on the table, a cranberry score and a brownie. “Both treats are vegan. Hope that’s okay.”

You thank Harry as he settles back down across from you. You hide a smile as you see Harry observing you, taking a sip of the coffee he got for you. You hum in appreciation. It’s perfect, exactly how you take it. He seemed to remember what you liked when you mentioned having coffee with a friend, it was one of your earliest conversations.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Harry. How much do I owe you?”

Harry waves you off, “my treat.”

You raise your coffee as a cheers to Harry. “Thank you.”

You don’t let the fact that he paid for coffee go to your head. You’ve treated your friends to coffee and never considered it a date. It’s fine you’ll enjoy coffee with Harry, and then both go your separate ways.

Harry offers you the first bite of the brownie, and you let out a quiet moan at the taste filling your mouth. You feel your face flush, knowing that Harry heard you, his cheeks now red as he takes a piece of the scone. Before you can apologize, Harry asks how your stay in London has been and where you’re planning to go next.

Conversation with him flows effortlessly. It is as if you were reuniting with an old friend and not meeting for the first time. Harry told you how close he is to his mother and sister and how he doesn’t go home as much as he wishes but makes sure to call them once a day. He shared about his growing car collection. You share about having an older brother, and Harry laughs, saying you both can relate to being the younger sibling. You go on to tell him about the first time you got a tattoo, drunk with your best friend but don’t dare tell him the placement, just that the morning after was something you laughed at for the longest time.

Being with Harry is a nice reminder that you can be the biggest fan of someone and sometimes forget to see them as a person or expect something from them. Harry, when he’s on stage, he’s this charismatic, sexy rockstar that has you dying for a moment with them, but that’s Harry Styles. The Harry sitting in front of you is shy, kind, and beautiful. He gives you his undivided attention, always staring into your eyes. It’s the safest place you could be. You’re thankful he reached out to give you a chance to get to know him.

You don’t know much he knows about you or if he’s read tabloids on you. The fact that you’re constantly seen going out with people from men to women but never confirm anything because most times it’s you with a friend or a family member, but the tabloids don’t care. They sell the story they want, not the truth. The fact is that you don’t play into tabloids. You live your authentic life because it’s tiring hiding from cameras all the time. You rather keep being yourself every day because you’re already someone else when you’re in front of a camera acting.

“You’re really funny, Harry,” you tell him after sobering up from the joke he just told.

Harry’s grin widens, “wish you could tell my sister that.”

“Call her up, tell her right now,” you joke.

He giggles, shaking his head. His phone rings signs that he just received a text message, and it’s the first time he glances at his phone and catches a look at the time. He sighs. It’s clear the bubble the two of you were in has popped, and you now have to go back into the world.

“I had the loveliest time with you, Y/N. Don’t think I’ve spent two hours in a coffee shop since my time in Japan.” He shares as you both get up and put your coats on. The workers had stopped earlier and cleared your table.

“Oh, Japan,” you raise an eyebrow in question. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”

Harry blushes, but you’re not sure why he only nods, promising he will. You walk in front of him, Harry right behind you. His hand hovers over the small of your back, and you find it sweet that he’s considerate enough to help but respect boundaries. You give the workers a quick goodbye, and Harry follows you to your car.

He stands in front of you with his hands tucked in his pocket as you both wait for one of you to begin the goodbye.

“I had a nice time with you as well, Harry.” You remembered you didn’t repeat the sentiment inside, too intrigued by Japan.

“It was a nice first date, I think,” his face is quick to flush red, but his eyes remain locked on yours.

He was smooth.

Thank goodness you’re an actress because you’re able to hide the shock of him calling your time together a date. You take a step closer to Harry and give him a sweet smile, “it was really nice,” you promise him.

“I hope we can do a second date before you leave at the end of the week.”

You think about it for a second, not wanting to seem eager, but know you fail when Harry catches the smile that bloomed on your face. “I’d like that.”

“We could do dinner?” He suggests.

“Are you cooking?”

Harry laughs; he runs his hand down your arm until he reaches your fingers he gives you a light squeeze. “If that’s what you’d like.”

“I could bring dessert,” you offer. “Oh, and wine.”

“Can’t forget the wine.”

Harry leaned in, giving you a kiss on your cheek. You felt warm inside, god he was smooth. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promises.

You hum in acknowledgment, still lost in the haze of his lingering kiss.

“Drive safe, Y/N darling.”

“Have a nice walk home, Harry.”

They walk away from each other with large smiles on their faces. They’re so lost in their heads they fail to notice the paparazzi snapping photos of them from across the street.

It seemed they’d have something else to navigate together.

feel free to send me a message of what you loved, what was your favorite part and if you want to see more of them 💜

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry story #harry blurb #harry love #harry x reader #harry imagine #harry fluff #harry one shot #pleasing #harry styles x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic rec

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barrenclan · 1 year ago

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I finally got the dream curse!!

I had a dream where I, a couple of people, and a bunch of cats from BarrenClan went into a weird cave to look for a deer named Starspot, who had the ability to use magic. We were on a mission to recruit her before Deepdark could, and so she could explode him from a distance.

But instead of that, we found a god, humanoid, glowing blue with white eyes and cat ears, who declared that they were the greatest god. They picked up Asphodelpaw and an anthropomorphic flower and ate them both as a display of power. The only way to defeat them was to give them a challenge they couldn’t beat.

Which turned out to be a challenge in itself, as more and more people ended up being eaten after this god just bent reality to make the challenge beatable. Pinepaw challenged them to a race, and the god just teleported to the finish line.

Soon it was only three people left: myself, Mallowstar (who was my father somehow, despite me being very much human) and Kaz Brekker (from Six of Crows). Kaz had an idea for a truly unbeatable challenge: in order for the god to win, Kaz had to say the word “debt.” I suggested adding a time limit, because if he ever said it in passing then that could be it. He agreed, and chose one minute.

We sat at my kitchen table with the god and explained the rules. They weren’t able to decline a challenge, so it began.

The god tried making small talk, which Kaz responded with one word answers. The god became more desperate as the time started to run out, and just screamed the word “DEBT!” over and over.

As the clock hit zero, the god turned into dust and swirled away. The three of us were free to leave.

As we left, I turned to Mallowstar and asked if we ever actually found Starspot in this horrible journey. We had not. We kinda just went “welp” and walked to my car.

THE DREAM CURSE ONCE MORE

This really took for me a ride, I love it. The plot twist of appearance of Kaz? Delightful. Your Dad Mallowstar? My dad too. The fact that you didn't accomplish anything in the end, such a dream thing to happen.

#ask #the dream curse #mallowstar #deepdark

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micalpixel · 2 months ago

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May Flowers Game - September 2024 Progress Report

Another month comes and goes, so here's another update on my May game.

Lore and Plot

So... I don't have anything visual to display this month, sadly. I kinda spent an entire month working on lore and plot. :D I keep looking at the layers the game has so far. Characters, sidequests, themes... And little by little, I keep finding new ways to connect them. May's afraid of heights. But why? Well, there's now a reason. And it links to something else that until now, was completely unrelated. Plot holes get filled in, rough edges are ironed out. I'm happy with how things are progressing. I feel as though all of the biggest, most important pieces, are now in place.

One reason this has been taking a while is... well...

When I worked on the puzzle mechanics, I cut out a lot of ideas. Because it was too much for a first game. I wanted an upper limit on the insanity. So, some neat ideas were shelved. Even though they very closely complemented the ideas I WAS going to use.

And when working on the plot, there were also some ideas which, in my opinion, are really cool. But completely clash with what I'm doing for this game.

But I still kept thinking about those things. And kept having new ideas for them, and developing them. Writing down ideas as they game. Seeing ways they connected to the ones I WAS going to use.

Long story short, I realized two months ago that there's enough ideas here for three sequential games involving May. And I've been working with that target in mind. Three games that each tell very different stories, but are still connected, each with very different goals, and each telling a larger story about May and the people she meets.

It's kinda embarrassing, and reeks of arrogance. Planning three games before I've even finished one game. But I'm just too excited to do otherwise. The idea's been planted. And in fact, it won't require very many changes to the first game at all, other than leaving a few (seemingly unimportant) loose ends to resolve later. (No cliffhangers, I swear!) So I figure, why not?

And actually, the beginning and ends of all three are already set in stone. I know how each one will start, what each one's tutorial "level" will be, and how each one will end. The most important parts of the plot are, well, done. And now it's just the filler that remains. The minor characters, the sidequests, etc. Everything after the first hour of each game and before the last hour. Which, by comparison, should be a lot more flexible since they're not as important to the overall plot. I feel like this is very doable. My main focus will 100% be on the first game though. I will not be doing ANY work on the next two other than lore and plot, since those could impact the first game in small ways.

Graphics

I've been mulling over the game's graphics style. Although I love the very-limited-color palette look, I also wonder if the game would be more enjoyable and colorful if I let myself use a bit more color. Keep the same character sizes, but try to make the colors pop. I've seen some games use an art style like that, and I do wonder if it would be better to go that route.

I had intended to participate in Drawtober 2024, to experiment with different pixel art styles, every day, trying out different things, using my own 31 prompts.

But work has been much more stressful than usual this month. I feel very tired. I'd wanted to get other drawings done before October, and wasn't able to do that. So, I don't know. I really do want to experiment with that though. Maybe once these other WIP art pieces are done, I'll get to that. A late Drawtober, maybe. We'll see....

Closing

Thanks for reading! Sorry it's not a very exciting update. I do still work on this game a little very day. After four months, my excitement for this game has only increased, and I'm very happy about that.

#mayflowersgame #gamedev

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journeytothewest-daily · 11 months ago

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Hi! Some thoughts and questions about chapter 14;

Hurray! More Monkey! I was so happy when Sun Wu-k'ung showed up, because he felt like he was from a different genre with his explosive violence and wild boasts.

When Wu-k'ung jumped around and did flips and cartwheels in pain he reminded me a lot of a Looney Toons character, and I could imagine his whole body going red and steam shooting out of his ears

But was it not cruel of Tripitaka and Kuan-yin to lie to him and torture him? I thought Tripitaka's admonition of honesty would be a ruse, but those two seemed a little too willing to torture poor Monkey.

It was, however, very funny when he was asked not to kill people at the drop of a hat, and then journeyed a thousand miles to moan to the Dragon King that his teacher was doing his hole in. I work at a middle school, and that is exactly how any bold 13 year-old will react at being asked to follow basic rules for behavior! Ha ha ha!

I knew plums came in winter (at least, they flower in February and March in Japan), but what is the wild tea that supplants the dying lillies? Is it different from the mountain tea the woodcutter's illiterate wife made him?

I was going to ask why Tripitaka let the hunter and Wu-k'ung kill the tigers, but said that the bandits were off-limits even though all life is equal, but then I remembered that Monkey had sworn to be a Buddhist monk, and it's only fair to admonish him and not the hunter in that case...

Thank you for the encouragement to keep reading! I read 59 books last year and had some very slow periods, so it was very comforting to have a weird (or rather, unusual) book that I didn't have to finish before NYE. At a speed of one chapter per three days, we'll have plenty of time to finish this book this year, and I think I'll start Romance of the Three Kingdoms afterwards, since I've had it on my shelf since 2016! Belated merry Christmas and a happy new year to you!

But was it not cruel of Tripitaka and Kuan-yin to lie to him and torture him?

Yes, I agree with you, imho it was a bit unnecessary since he became convinced by the Dragon to work for him and not to abandon him.

but what is the wild tea that supplants the dying lillies?

I don't know :( My research wasn't fruitful on that.

Thank you for keeping up with the reading, I'm very grateful for your comments. We'll probably finish the book before 2025, as you say (I think, I am bad at maths hehe). I find it "relaxing" as well not to have a deadline to finish a book, and that's why I don't have a reading goal myself.

Happy new year :)

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funnuraba · 6 months ago

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I feel like I need to be talking about the specific symptoms of ME/CFS, because I really, really wish I'd known what all my snowballing symptoms were pointing towards before I became 98% bedridden. So, here's the brain fog:

Starting in mid to late 2020 (I believe my Covid infection was in March; the only symptom was a mild sore throat that I worried about but then brushed off because no respiratory symptoms developed), I started having trouble finding words, and making spoonerisms where I'd never done so before. I nervously put this down to turning 30, but wondered if it had really started this early for the family members who had similar issues in their 50s.

Now, as a result of pushing myself through fatigue for three years, I have full-blown ME that's finally presenting unmistakably, with Post-Exertional Malaise: if I use too much energy, I pay for it the next day with flu-like symptoms, and more often than that with a mental crash. In these mental crashes (I also get them before it rains), I can't speak. I can't think in full sentences, and it's prohibitively difficult to think in words of more than one syllable. Even one-syllable words with complex sounds are too much sometimes. Something like "please let this end soon", which tries to pop up a lot, is impossible to finish because the "pl" diphthong takes too much effort to think and to form with my mouth. I was able to entertain myself through a few crashes by noting these things, to the limited extent that I could put anything into words.

There's also some unusual linguistics at work. I can't, for example, put a pause between syllables except with great effort, but I can replace a two-syllable word with two or even three monosyllabic ones! For example, I can't manage "always" no matter what I do. I have to turn it into "all time", which is the same number of syllables, but for some reason takes less energy. I can't put a long pause into "always" and get it out that way. An example sentence I have to settle for during a mental crash would be, "This hard. Me want think big all time."

During one of these crashes I was thinking of Flowers For Algernon, and all I could manage was "rat brain book". "Me cry at rat brain book when kid. Now look at me. Life is shit. Ha." (Even in that state I had to force out a few more sentences clarifying that the part I cried at wasn't him being disabled to begin with, but that he had to go back to being bullied with no way to defend himself or understand what was happening to him. Why did I need to make sure I knew this, within my own brain that already knows my own thoughts? This is a long-standing impulse of mine that doesn't make much sense.)

Now, I could mentally picture a book cover that had the words Flowers For Algernon on the cover. I could see the F and the A, and the articulation of the full title was just out of reach. But reaching out and "grabbing" it was physically painful. I had to give up, despite being aware that the knowledge was in my brain. By a strange coincidence, the very next day brought a post on the r/CFS subreddit by someone comparing their own situation to Flowers For Algernon. As much as I believe people with brain damage and intellectual disabilities should be treated with dignity and not like a tragedy for existing, the loss of myself as someone who's always prided myself on my facility with words is beyond my ability to describe. These crashes, which also bring extreme sensitivity to other people's touch or presence, to light and sound--all light, all sound, including your own breathing--are like experiencing your own death, over and over and over again. You don't know if or even when it'll stop, because some Very Severe people are stuck like this, and every crash is the one that could be permanent.

All of which goes to say, you have no idea how much energy it takes to even think. When your mitochondria physically can't recharge, every scrap of energy is used up on things like breathing, seeing, hearing, digesting food. Your conscious thoughts are one of the first things to fall by the wayside so your body can keep doing those. And for people at the most extreme end of ME, they can in fact lose the strength to even breathe.

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mamamittens · 10 months ago

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Well, did some adulting today. Got a handheld air tire... Pump thing and took care of the most deflated tire. The others need touching up but I started fumbling the second and decided to take my victory where I could. Slower than a station but also doesn't charge 2 bucks to embarrass myself in the cold ass 5 AM air.

Do recommend if you don't mind airing up your own tires but hate trying to find an air pump that won't lead you to getting mugged. I imagine it's even handier as an emergency pump if the tire is punctured and you need to limp to an auto shop without paying a tow truck.

Anyway! New ramble when I should be sleeping ✧��◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

This time I was zoning out thinking about an intriguing character backstory that I've only seen a few fics do. And that's have the MC have parents (usually just one) be serial killers. Or some kind of hobby murderer where that's really not the norm.

Kinda made me wonder if there are any serious serial killers in OP, not pirates just... Dead ass killer by night types. They've got so many problems, it feels mean if they also gotta worry about their own version of Ted Bundy, you know?

Anyway! I was having fun designing this character, at first having them be a kid for their plot but the "this kid is really fucked up and unsettling in a uniquely preteen girl way" growing up into a "only somewhat better at hiding it but distinctly unsettling to be around teen" is a fun dynamic to have.

WBP cause they're the best equipped to do the "found family" thing but I'm flexible enough to consider others, ngl

Anyway, design wise I wanted her to be small and lanky. Maybe naturally pale for spooky vibes, we'll see. Perpetually smiling and close eyed expression that almost never feels sincere but people are too uncomfortable to point it out. Thought it'd be fun for her to have curly white hair with red tips that swirl so her hair pulled up looks like an artistic cascading bouquet of white roses stained red. For the dramatics.

And her eyes are unsettling (hence her closing them and basically using very limited observation haki to see without looking), red with white pupils. Very piercing by nature and not helped by her vampire ass canines. Hence her carefully smile and if she talks a lot she covers her mouth.

She's not strictly self conscious about the way she is, though she's not naive about her effect on people, but rather finds it polite to try and hide as many odd quirks in public. A leftover of her secret killer parent(s?) Raising her to hide in plain sight.

Unusually brutal, does NOT fuck about. She doesn't right people so much as slaughter them. Very cautious about engaging with anyone because she doesn't understand the concept of "friendly fighting" and "sparring". ONLY goes for the kill, why raise her blade/hands/teeth otherwise? You don't fight someone unless you want them dead.

Had the fun idea of her being taken in after an incident with a slave ship as a apprentice gardener or librarian with a little flower garden herself. Seen being polite and friendly though still unsettling. And then there's a serious fight and when all is said and done, one of the "defeated" enemies starts to draw a gun and she just

Slams a shovel into their neck, severing it. Same placid smile.

"if you're going to make a mess, finish what you started"

They're naturally horrified this child just committed cold blooded murder and knows she can't stay. It's a miracle nothing's gone wrong until this point with someone so obviously off to the average civilian.

But she's just really pragmatic about murder. Doesn't see the point in making others suffer but also doesn't practice much mercy. Not cruel, very calculating in whether or not she's interested in seeing someone die before acting. Her version of "I like you!" Is basically "if you drew a knife on me, I'd disarm you not gut you".

Takes a horrifying incident for there to be a rule only Marco is allowed to spar or fight her. She dead ass almost slit a dude's throat because she cut his chest pretty good and thought it was kinder to end his suffering. Didn't even occur to her to get a medic. She's... Not usually concerned with her victims surviving, after all. Dead ass offers to end Whitebeard so that none of his sons have to do it themselves or see him suffer prolonged illness. Ready to take on that burden because she doesn't have an issue with the act itself.

Genuinely thinks that's a sweet offer and everyone is horrified.

Idk, it's just a fun image of a Yonko crew trying to teach a budding sociopath tenderness that doesn't involve a killing blow. She can be really nice! But it's definitely tempered with an unnervingly easy willingness to rip someone's throat out with her teeth if needed.

It's... Definitely different from their usual problems. Typically the sweet, familial kindness is buried underneath angst and pride. Not left at home entirely.

Her real kindness is akin to a feral cat. Bringing dead things to their doorsteps and rendering meat stock with unnerving efficiency and comfort for anyone else's comfort.

#one piece #mittens rambles #mittens update

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ciar-galyna · 1 year ago

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A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter Three

Word Count : 7k

Warning(s) : Descriptions of corpses, blood, and possible gore/violence.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon..)

Lyphon

There was something to be admired about my siblings and their strength. I could sense them from a mile or miles away when we were all at our height of power, though none of us really knew it. I’m sure even now if they entered the Court there would be some slight change, some shift and a little more silence from the wildlife.

Achlys and Gyn truly were ‘The Knight’s Children’. I’d barely been a child when there had been a massive war between several Courts and some far off kingdom. It was a mix of who was against who and the alliances are a little foggy in my mind, but there was one thing that truly stuck out.

One of the Courts managed to form an alliances with our Court and rather than sending out large armies to crush our enemies like usual, Great Great Grandfather had appeared to personally order Achlys and Gyn out into the heart of the battle. He had some sick sort of humour and aura when he arrived. I nearly threw up and passed out, I was terrified for both of them. But our Great Great Grandfather only laughed at my reaction and winnowed us to watch from above. He wasn’t surprised by what happen, but everyone else was. Achlys crushed opponents using their own armour, killed them using their own weapons. He turned every metal thing they had on them against them. And when he seemed to get bored, he either buried soldiers alive or crushed them with boulders made of crystal. Meanwhile Gyn flooded the field with our enemies blood and turned the rest into trees and flowers. That battle had finished within 10 minutes, maybe less. It was horrific.

And then we all went home like nothing happened. Well, Great Great Grandfather challenge me to become as powerful as them, to become their equal. I never fully reached their power, but I came close enough that I was rewarded for my efforts.

For ages and ages I practiced and trained out of pure terror and drive. I didn’t want to disappoint my Great Great Grandfather who clearly saw something in me. But I also wanted respect from my older siblings. So for centuries I perfected my skills and powers, pushing myself to the limit until I couldn’t anymore. And then, when another war came and we were summond by our allies, I was thrust into the fighting too. I never disappointed any of them that day, Gyn and Achlys almost seemed to see me a little differently too, but they kept their looks subtle and their thoughts silent.

And now..I’ll have to restart the entire process. I’m stuck in the Spring Court until I’m strong enough to winnow home again, until I can at least make myself somewhat useful to my family again. I can’t go home completely weak and useless, Great Great Grandfather wouldn’t allow it. He might have a sliver of sympathy or empathy for us, but if we’re too weak in his eyes, we’re not family. We’re something to either dispose of or forget.

Sighing I try to focus on something else, anything else. All these thoughts of home and our Great Great Grandfather are making me anxious, dreading something that isn’t even set in stone. Hissing slightly I will the thoughts from my head, eagerly breathing in the smell of the unditsturbed earth around me.

I frown slightly at the sight of breaking headstones, all barely readable with moss covering many they’ve been so forgotten. I’m aware that this cemetary is abandoned, I asked for one that was abandoned specifically, but it doesn’t stop the disgust and disappointment from seeping into my mouth like a foul poison. Was no one truly here to take care of this graveyard?

Enough, enough. I roll my neck, wincing when loud pops fill the air as I cloes my eyes. Now is not the time to be nitpicky. I have to concentrate and focus purely on my task. I’d love to rush ahead and attempt to resurrect everyone here, but that would leave me so exhausted I wouldn’t be able to move, leaving an entire field of half living creatures to wander and terrorize everything. And High Lord Tamlin wouldn’t be pleased. So I focus on one single soul, one deceased. The grave before me.

Knowledge of names and personal history can be helpful, but it’s not really that neccessary. Truly, all you ever need to do is find their soul, follow that invisible, string from corpse to soul. It’s fascinating, following the string. Some have many strings attached to them from all their different lives, some only have the one. Mates will always have a tether between them, connecting both souls for all eternity. If left for enough time, the string will be weathered, a little harder to follow, but still connected. There have been multiple times though where I attempted to resurecct someone, only to have their new body appear before me, questioning why I summoned them while they were alive and living. Strings always look the same, they never tell you if someone has moved onto their next life or not, so I’ve learned to be cautious, look for any signs of life outside the soul.

Stretching a hand out and pressing it to the ground, I search for the string, reaching subconciously for that small, invisible line tying bones to soul. It’s closer than I realize. The body must be in a shallow grave of some sort, not buried six feet below, maybe half of that. Carefully I follow the string, tugging and pulling softly until I can feel the soft ground below shift. Dirt is moved and pushed away until the pale, stained ivory bones and rotted flesh of a hand and arm push past into the open air.

More dirt is pushed away until the torso of the living corpse can sit upright. An annoyed scowl is present on the man’s face, though the skin around his face is missing a few chunks, showing off dirt stained and holey parts of his skull. His hair is on the longer and more light brown side while his eyes are a dark brown. He’s quick to glare at me, though I ignore the look completely, too focused on my victory to care.

I resurrected a whole human, fully. Quietly I stand up, moving to the next grave beside him, earning me a scoff. I move some dirt away, digging a little with my hands until I’ve dug around two feet. Shutting my eyes again and pressing a hand to the cool dirt, searching and finding the string practically immediately. This time the corpse of a woman sits up, looking around confused and grimacing at the sight of the decomposing man beside her. She avoids looking down though, refusing to see the state of her own body.

I almost giggle giddily as I repeat the process another two times. Two men and two women watching me with mixed emotions as I pant quietly. I’m reaching my limits, but four is a good number. Shakily I reach for a fifth grave. I’m becoming out of breath and the smell of death and dirt and insects and rot and mold will not leave my nose. It probably won’t for several hours. Coughing I snatch at the string, yanking it with a little too much eagerness. Unsurprisingly a hand shoots out, gripping my neck with a surprising amount of strength for a dead man. My lungs instantly loose access to air, though the smell still preasent and nearly heavy in my lungs. My limbs feel like lead, slack at my sides, though still warm from bloodflow. A slow, thumping headache creeps in after a moment. My head feeling as if burning hammers are playing drums in my head. The other bodies watch nervously, as though wondering if my death would free them or trap them eternally. Clicking my tongue I stare right back, managing to open my mouth and rasp out a quiet, ‘help me’.

One of the woman stands, wobbling over on weak, half eaten legs. Her hands prying open the wretched hand around my throat. I cough as air fills my lungs again, I nearly double over. Most of the headache recedes and I watch the arm flail around, swatting and clawing at the air. The woman retreated back to her grave, content to lie down and avoid looking over here. It would seem the only thing alive for this grave is the arm, everything else is still dead. So then 4 corpses and an arm. A good start.

With a grunt I wave my hand, silently commanding them to bury themselves again. I smile softly when the command is successful. I still had enough to do a mental command as well then. Leaning back and resting my head on a headstone, I snap my fingers, all the strings being pulled taught again as the souls rejoined the afterlife, whatever it is.

Gyn

The uniqueness of my family and our abilities has never been lost on me. I’ve always been aware of how different we are compared to everyone else. It’s not necessarily bad, but it’s noticable and not many perceive it as good.

I’ve been told before that none of us felt..like regular High Fae, and to be fair, we’re not. Our lineage and family tree is more mixed than most and in the way that I suspect some were convinced into making deals for power sakes. The goals of my Great Great Grandfather always speak for themselves, clear through the silence.

While there are plenty of differences for others to focus on, many have stuck to prescense and powers. From all my years of being alive I’ve yet to meet another creature with our powers. The first word ever used to describe our powers has always been ‘gorey’. It’s a fair assessment, especially for me. I’m the third in my family to specialize in the manipulation of cells. Not just blood or bones specifically, but cells, the very thing keep so many of us alive and moving and thinking. The complexity of cells is fascinating to me, so at least I wasn’t really bored when studying biology. And as helpful as it can be, being used to create new life or healing many, many people, the fact that it can be so terrifyingly deadly is always what’s focused on.

I’m not sure if it’s my natural expression, or my prescense even, that makes people think, convinces people, that I fully wish to kill and harm everything around me, and I will if I want to. I never really had the intention or the wish to slaughter everyone, even if the chance presents itself. Even in wars I was hesitant, and whenever I was given the opportunity I would ask my enemies if they truly wanted to fight me and die or live a more peaceful, quiet life. Everyone around me disapproved of what I was doing, they scoffed and would mock me. Achlys would demand what the hell I was doing, he never too far and mocked me or called me horrible names since he knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it coming from him. But I could see it in his eyes, the ugly envy that made him silently demand why he couldn’t be given such a destructive gift, why I was ‘wasting’ it. And I never fully answered his questions, until he snapped and yelled at me. I was stuck staring at the floor, wishing I would just cry like a normal person. And I could say was :

“Why can’t I try to save just a sliver of people? Why can’t I try to give some happiness and peace to souls who never wanted their lives thrown away like the garbage their treated as? Did you even bother pause and look at the world around you, in the heat of everything?

”You never notice their fear, how their hearts pound and their breathing quickens as we approach. For fuck’s sakes Achlys, we’re living death to them! We embody reapers coming to tear out their souls and laugh as we break their bodies. Is it really so bad that I stop and give a choice to some. How many in my garden are actually miserable, how many want to leave. Tell me that. And tell me when have I ever trapped anyone in my garden, refused to let them leave. Believe it or not, I hate their fear.”

Achlys never asked after that..he must have really listened since during any war or battle he always brought me a small group of soldiers afterwards, all brave enough to have some faith in us. I’m definitely glad that my brother is so understanding, I’d probably be hopeless without him.

Anyways. Lyphon’s powers aren’t what I would call ‘gorey’. Yes, he raises the dead, but what do expect from a corpse? Unless they’ve died yesterday, it’s not going to be a pretty sight. Achlys’s powers aren’t gorey either, he works with metals, earth, and stone. It’s more how we all choose to use these powers. Course if we’re fighting someone or an army a lot of blood with spill. The blood will stain our hands red over and over again until our skin matches the colour of the blood beneath. But that’s the way it’s always been, and I doubt it will change.

Sighing through my nose I roll my neck and open my eyes. My room is a very comfortable, wonderful room and a place I’d love to practice in. However, I don’t want to scare any servant checking in on me. Nor do I want Tarquin to watch me practice in case he becomes worried or looses some trust in me to paranoia. Not that I think he would ever loose trust in me because of this power, it’s more I want to be better prepared for when I do tell him. I can’t try to demonstrate something and let it go horribly wrong, unable to fix the problem I made. Plus I don’t need the immediate pressure of eyes on me right now. There’s too many things that can go wrong.

So, with that being said, I’d gone exploring for the past week, hunting for any place that would work for privacy and calmness. And I found the perfect beach yesterday. It’s a good distance from Adriata with white sands and soft, gentle waves that could lull me to sleep if I let it. And at night the waves and sand glow with any movement or weight put on them. Unfortunately I told Tarquin I would return by dinner, which is normally at 6, so I can’t really stay late today. And sunlight is better for reading. I want to master a few things before attempting to change my eyes in any way.

I brought a few anatomy books and one about meditating and keeping calm. The anatomy books are for reminders, I already know everything, but I’d like a bit of a recap just in case. And the mediatation book is just so I don’t freak out or have a meltdown. Having a panic attack when something goes wrong won’t help me, so learning breathing exercises and routines to keep calm is a good aid.

Humming softly I close my eyes again, letting myself search through my body, refamiliarizing the feel of each type of cell when they’re healthy, checking for anything concerning. I only open my eyes once I’ve made sure that everything is in fact healthy and functioning correctly. As tempting as it is to close my eyes again, I focus on watching my hands. In the past I always used my hands as practice do to their simplicity, other times I was just having fun, making the ends of my fingers and nails turn into claws or talons instead.

For old times sake I decide to do that, slowly having my nails grow until they’re long and pointed but slighty curved and thicker. I let the nails grow around my fingertips until it looks like the ends of my fingers are sharp, white talons. Humming I reverse the process, which goes smoothly, to my relief.

It seems quick, rushing to try this next thing, but I’ve already practiced enough and from what I remember this shouldn’t exhaust me too quickly. I could be wrong since when I tried doing this for the first time in my life I had already built up plenty of stamina beforehand. I suppose I’ll be using this moment as a comparison for later.

There was one other thing that I brought with me, a small, miniscule really, jar of a few teeth. Disgusting sounding I’m sure, but they’re my own and it was an easy process, pain free. I just had these ones fall out and then some grow in their place. Simple and easy.

Grabbing the small jar, I take out a tooth, placing it in the center of my palm. I sigh, closely my eyes to take a few deep breaths. This always required more focus, even if I’d done it a thousand times before.

I start small, changing the shape of the tooth into a ribcage, letting it grown into a full skeleton of a bird with the muscles and ligaments following soon after. The body grew as exhaustion slowly crept up on me. Before I could realize everything was finished the now living bird in my hand hopped two or three times, chirping a little and singing a few notes. My eyes fly open, widening at the image of a beautiful, living swallow. It’s head, back, and wings were all a stunning blue that faded into a silver going into it’s tail. It’s underbelly was white and soft looking. It’s eyes were so dark but fixed on me as it watched curiously.

I was successful. I made a small bird, grew it from a tooth. Soon I could make something bigger, maybe a dog or a bear. Or even a horse. But start small, I’m already getting tired, which is what I get for only going on walks for a week and neglecting to practice. Giggling I pet the small bird, it’s feather were soft and smooth. It chirps a few times, flying to stand on my shoulder. What a day, I’ll need to start practicing on the way here. Based on the sun it’s around an hour till dinner, so now is a good time to leave.

I pick up my books and jar, humming softly and then grunting as I stand, brushing off any sand on my legs. The swallow sings along to the humming, much to my delight. Turning I head back to a path that leads up a sort of steap hill. The beach is only accessible through the path since there’s sort of a cliff or wall of dirt blocking it off. That or you jump down, but I wouldn’t recommend it since it’s at least a 10 foot drop.

I’m almost panting when I reach the top. I huff, feeling shame build up at the realization that I’m probably not as fit as I’d like to think. That or I was using too much air to hum. I’d rather the latter honestly.

At the top I look back down at the beach, at the cool blue waves. It really is a haven in the Summer Court sometimes. I sometimes wished I could stop time and just enjoy where I was a little longer, I definitely wish I could recreate a place like this, visit whenever I like and just rest. Though maybe later in the day, midday is way too hot. Cloudless sky with a hot ball of fire just glaring down at you, not great. And I’m moon pale, one of these days I’ll be lobster red and wincing at every muscle movement as I apply aloe verra to my burned, tight skin. Honestly I’m not even sure if Tarquin burns, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if no Summer Court citizen had ever burned in their lives.

The swallow chirps, hopping a few times and drawing my attention. Curious I look at it, watching as it flies off my shoulder and onto a familiar one. With a start I realize the little bird landed on Tarquin’s shoulder. Tarquin was here. What was he doing here? Did he see anything?

The High Lord chuckles quietly, petting the bird a few times before turning to me.

“Afternoon, Gyn. How was your practice? I’m hoping you thought it went well.”

His smile is gentle, something akin to a soft breeze or a quiet sunrise. I almost feel stupidly tense, like why am I so tense about him knowing anything? But another small part of me is restless and anxious, demanding to know how much he’s seen and knows. Still, I don’t want to make it seem like I don’t trust him, that could hurt or insult him and he’s been nothing but kind and understanding. Really this fear is probably for nothing. But it’s not quick to go away and I only barely make myself look less upset.

“It went well..I’m making progress. I-” I pause slightly, swallowing my words and briefly looking away at the grass. “I don’t want to sound rude, or defensive..but what are you doing here? I thought you would be busy in Adriata till dinner.”

There’s another quiet chuckle.

“You don’t, you’re being reasonable. I wasn’t as busy as expected today, and I had some free time. So I decided to try and find you, and wouldn’t you know it, you found the glowing beach.”

“The glowing beach?”

“Yes, me and my cousins would come down here at night sometimes to swim or have some fun. Usually we had to sneak out, but it was fun and beautiful. It was like our own secret place that only we knew about. And here you are, practicing here. You picked an excellent spot. If I was anyone else I probably wouldn’t have found you.”

My eyes widen a little, drifting to look at the beach again. I can almost imagine a teen version of himself, Cresseida, and Varian just running down the path towards the waters, diving in and later dancing and singing around in the sand, probably bringing bottles of alcohol and getting drunk. The thought makes me hum, I almost smile.

“Yeah…I don’t want to..ruin any good moods, but how much did you see? It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s more that I just- I…I don’t want you to be afraid of me or concerned everytime I try to use my abilities.”

He’s silent for a moment, timid breezes attempt to fill in the emptyness. The swallow chirps occasionally, Tarquin petting it he while thinks, considering something. My gut tightens, my fingers curling into my hands to create tight fists that turn my knuckles white. My eyes flick from sand, to grass, to sky. Why do I feel like a child caught breaking a rule, about to be scolded by a too calm parent?

“I..saw everything, or at least what I think is most of what you were doing. The claws, this cute little bird.” Somehow, I’m sure my heart has plummeted into my stomach. Tarquin seems to notice, my face must really love to tattle my emotions. But he moves closer, a little bit like he doesn’t want to startle me, or make me uncomfortable. He stops a foot away, maybe closer.

“But I’m not scared of you. I’m not sure I could be. Concerned..a bit yes. I don’t want you hurting yourself just to try and perfect what you could do in the past again. And whose teeth were those?”

My gut loosens, some burning following, but it’s better than a tight coil and a wish to disappear to avoid a possible negative reaction. My fingers uncurl and stretch or flex a few times, my nails leaving little moons in my palm, none bleeding thankfully.

“Mine. It didn’t hurt, I just had them fall out and replaced with new teeth. None of what I was doing was painful, it was just a little tiring to make the swallow..I’m sorry I was defensive before. I wanted to master a few things before showing you, that way you’d worry less.”

“It’s fine, Gyn. I should apologize too, I knew you wanted privacy, but I still came here and watched, unbeknownst to you. But I’m not afraid, and I can trust that you won’t..permanently hurt yourself.”

I’m the one that stays quiet this time. I don’t really believe it’s necessary for me to see if he’s lying, but I scan his face anyways, eyes darting around for any tells that weren’t there. I sigh a little, nodding. I’m relieved about his obvious honesty, but still a little tense about being found and observed without my knowledge. I’m going to have to focus on sight next time, sensing any life nearby. There are plenty of silent or illusive creatures at home, I used to almost constantly make sure that every sense was heightened enough to sense each and every living thing, yet make sure I wasn’t overwhelmed by it.

With a sigh I turn, starting to walk. “We should head back to Adriata. Can’t have everyone worrying over a lost High Lord, can we?”

Tarquin smiles, a bit tightly, jogging to catch up, but keeping a steady pace once he was beside me. We both fall into a comfortable silence as we head towards the golden city.

Achlys

The Forest House may be mostly underground, but it’s beautiful. Inside it’s warm and decorated in reds, oranges, and golds. Portraits and paintings hang neatly on the walls, serious and cruel faces staring down at any passer by. I almost smile.

Servants work away in hallways and rooms, cleaning and keeping their heads down. Sentries silently stand at doorways or move to their next station, staring me down as if they’re ready to kill me if I give them any reason.

Sighing softly I look ahead, Fenix is leading me to the throne room, presumably. He seemed rather annoyed that his brother found out about me and took interest. So much so that he’s asked that I meet him, tell him a little bit about why I was found in his lands.

Naturally I don’t believe for a second that he really sees me as anything more than a potential pawn or a threat that he needs to get rid of, and considering that no Court but Winter would know about us, he wouldn’t need to worry about being discreet.

Everything about Autumn is about cunning and power. Even centuries back, I can still remember Regus Vanserra. Quite intelligent that one. He was the fourth son, it was unlikely in the first place that he would become the High Lord. But he waited patiently for years pretending to be nothing but a social prince with no interest in becoming anything more. Behind his parents and brothers backs he plotted though, forming alliances with Gyn, Boreas, Esord, and Nytarur. The heirs he knew would be the next generation of High Sovereigns, and ones he did not want to make enemies of. Regus played the long game, slowly poisoning his eldest brother and Father, training to kill the rest of his brothers when the time came. And he was successful. He made his eldest brother and Father’s deaths look like heart problems, and the other two brothers died in hunting ‘accidents’. He took the title and became quite the High Lord. Part of me was glad he decided to ally with Gyn, because then we weren’t his enemies.

I’m sure that any descendant of Regus is cunning and especially good at tricking others, weaving them a web of lies that they get trapped in but leaves him unharmed. I’ll bet Gyn would agree, she was in Prythian a lot longer than me, she got to see the generation after us. And apples don’t really fall far from the trees.

Fenix and his four guards stop at a pair of well carved oak doors with golden handles and a depiction of the Autumn forest and five of the past High Lords, Regus, his father and grandfather, and who I am guessing are his son and grandson. Everyone waits for a moment, quietly standing a foot from the doors. Then they open, groaning a little as they move. Our little group moves inside, my senses are assaulted by the smell of cinnamon and something smokey. At the head of the room, sitting on the cushioned stone throne, is a male with Autumn’s infamous red hair and eyes coloured amber. He doesn’t smile or sneer when we enter, merely keeping a cool, calm face as he watches us. Around his head sits a gold crown crafted to appear like flames resting on his head. So this is today’s High Lord. He’s dressed well with colours that compliment him and jewels that match, but not too much of anything, a perfect balance that doesn’t feel obnoxious.

Our little group moves until we’ve made it just past halfway in the room. The guards salute and Fenix offers the High Lord a bow, though it’s more mockery than an actual sign of respect or acknowledgement of power. I wait for after everyone’s finished to bow myself, smiling a little. The High Lord raises a brow.

“So this is the male you found..what is your name and why were you found in my Court?”

He’s good at his acting, I’ll give him that. His tone is careful, a planned boredom. His eyes hold a steely ice that was carefully crafted probably over a matter of years. I know for a fact that the entire Court buys every look, every word. It’s just a pity that I was surrounded masks for so long it became easy to learn when one was using it, unless someone was an exceptional liar. I’ve only met few who were able to fool me. Gyn, Cosmas, and a mortal King that ruled while I was in my 200s. No one ever knew when Cosmas was being truthful, it felt like a gamble every time I talked to him. And Gyn is as careful as I am, picking up on others emotions and anything we can learn about others and then using that information to our advantage. I just didn’t expect her to use the information against me, it was fine since I got her back a century later.

I grin at the High Lord. This could be fun.

“Achlys. I had a jealous coward for a cousin who used an ancient prison to contain me, throwing me into a cave in this Court. Don’t worry, High Lord, I’m only a temporary guest.”

He’s quiet for a moment, digesting the information and deciding what to do. It’s not every day something like this happens afterall.

“Which Court are you from? I’m sure your High Lord would have no issue collecting you.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me at the question. Fenix doesn’t really react, just a bit of tensing around the shoulders. The guards keep still, but a few glance nervously at me. Either they’re nervous because of my chuckle, or they think I just tried to ensure my death.

“I don’t you’d be able to. Besides, those of my Court are incredibly picky about which apples they like to keep on the tree. I’m sure I’ll only be here another month and I’ll be out of your hair.”

The High Lord narrows his eyes, hiding the curiosity and covering it with annoyance.

“And why won’t I be able to contact this Court of yours, hm?”

“Well Prythian has forgotten about my home. My Court is mere legend in your history books, if we haven’t been erased entirely. It is not found in Prythian, nor any other continent. We call it the End Court.”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes, something like…recognition. My own mask slips on, keeping the amused face and uncaring attitude. But why does he seem familiar with the name? The Court hasn’t been in contact with Prythian in centuries, but he knows of it. It would appear that I rang a bell and I didn’t know he could hear it. I’m curious about how much he actually knows.

“Achlys of the End Court..an interesting claim. And how am I to trust that you aren’t insane or attempting to deceive my Court?”

“I’m sure you can find records. We made deals and alliances with this Court multiple times. Though, I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised if those records were burned a long time ago. You have to admit though. My prison is nothing like what you’ve seen in Prythian.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m well traveled. Not even the Night Court has the metal needed to create such a thing. And most of the prisons here aren’t just enchanted large cubes that act as a power numbing cell, they’re made of stone and have multiple cells, multiple inmates, less chains, and usually more light.”

He hums, leaning back slightly on his throne.

“What else is there to tell me? Are there more prisons like this around Prythian?”

Should I tell him? With them outside Autumn they aren’t within his reach. However, that if they’ve already been found by now, he could already know about them. Every Court has their spies, keeping their High Lord well informed of everything. Instead of answering I stay quiet, raising a brow and keeping an amused face. I’m sure you already know, High Lord.

He grunts, practically confirming my theory. They’ve been found, and he knows exactly where they are. I’m sure he sent out spies the second I was found, I don’t doubt he knew of me then and got Fenix to confess of my existence, thus giving him a chance to get a closer look and attempt to give me a role.

“I’ll let you stay, however you’re under my rule here until you return home.Till the day you leave, your loyalty is to me.”

It’s a fair deal, and I wouldn’t want to cause issues for my family by causing nothing but chaos here. Naturally there a few things that I won’t do if asked and I’ll always put my family first, but for now I can play along. My siblings wouldn’t be too impressed if I started a war the moment I was freed.

“Very well..”

“Expect to summoned during the week and that you’ll join every meal while having at least two sentries watching you at all times. I don’t think I want to let a wild hound loose in the Court.”

I almost snort, I’m being compared to a dog now. Wonderful. But I’d expect nothing less of a Vanserra. First Fenix with his condescending eyes, always trying to sneer at me as if I was mud on his new boots. Now a High Lord yet to see me as anything other than a mosquito. Patience is a virtue and I can exorcise it.

If he’s expecting a response I don’t give him one. My face has gone to a neutral, just watching him. He stares back, subtly studying me. Once he’s satisified, he returns to the bored mask.

“You’re dismissed. Leave.”

He waves a hand and we all turn, this time with me at the head. Fenix lets out a low growl, not happy with the meeting or me being ahead of him. The doors open again, letting us leave and walk back into the hallway. Subconciously I lead the way, heading straight to my room at my regular pace, which the guards and Fenix scramble to keep up with. Fenix hisses, grabbing my arm and yanking. I don’t stop, but I look over my shoulder at the angry male.

“You walk behind me. Don’t think for a second that you have any power in this Court. You are nothing but a tool for me to use, do not think otherwise.”

I almost scoff, raising a brow at him before shrugging him off.

“I don’t like slow walkers. And I’m heading to my room anyways, calm down.”

The Autumn prince snarls a curse and snaps his fingers, two guards grabbing onto my arms and yanking me backwards. Hissing, I almost go to kick one of them. Fenix walks in front now, motioning for them to follow. Both guards kick my legs, forcing me to my knees, before walking, dragging me with them. A little rude of them. Clicking my tongue I stand again, matching the pace of the guards, who glare and attempt to kick my legs out again. It fails when I move quick enough to dodge and then on at a time.

The one on my right snarls, punching me in the gut. I cough a little, but stay standing. Fenix stops at a door, pulling it open and walking outside into a courtyard..of sorts. Sentries off duty train with wooden and metal swords, sparring or beating a punching bag like it killed their spouse and owes them money. In the center though, is a post. One with several metals loops attached, like something you would tie a rope through or hook something to. Fenix tosses a pair of cuffs to the guards, the left one catching it and snapping one around one of my wrists.

Ah..I see where this is going. Either way at least some of my blood is spilled. I’m either going to be flogged or I’ll be mobbed. Of the two, I would prefer the former. Less broken bones, typically only one area is targeted. Not like Fenix really cares, he’s just trying to teach me a lesson, make me fear or respect him to any degree.

The training sentries go quiet and stop whatever they’re doing to watch as I’m pulled towards the post. I don’t bother fighting much, there’s over a dozen men here, all with weapons on them. Normally I would use this against them. However, I don’t need to piss of a High Lord that controls fire by killing everyone here. Nor do I want to exhaust myself by using my powers that much right now. The guards are quick to loop the remaining cuff through a large loop and snap it around my remaining wrist, forcing me down on my knees and tearing the back of my shirt afterwards. Both snicker as they back away. Glancing quickly behind me I can see Fenix choosing a whip and calling a large male over, handing him the whip. I think it’s leather with some sort of dust on it. The Autumn prince looks at me, almost smug but burying it in time.

“A mutt like you needs to learn quickly that you’re nothing here and will remain that way. No disrepect will ever be tolerated. 50 lashes.”

I almost roll my eyes but I brace myself anyways. Gyn isn’t here to act as my healer, this is going to hurt since I still feel pain. I can hear the whip unravel, some anxiety builds. This isn’t the first time this has happened, it’s not the first time I’ve been punished using whips or tools specially made to counter High Fae’s instant healing. Doesn’t mean I enjoyed any of it though.

There’s a quiet swish before the whip strikes my bare back, a fiery sting following quickly after. Fenix knows what he’s doing, he makes the whipper wait a moment before another strike. I wonder if this will scar permanently or if Gyn can return my skin to normal, even when healed. I wonder briefly if either of my siblings have to face something like this, and I pray to the Cauldron they don’t have to. I keep still as they continue to strike my back, thankfully not hitting the same spot twice, but I can feel warm blood trickling down my back and sticking to what remains of my shirt, gluing it to my skin. My abilities numbed a while ago, around lash number 10. They must coat the whips in faebane for maximum pain and scarring then.

At 40 lashes my punishment is interrupted by the arrival of another Vanserra, one of Fenix’s brothers. At least I think that’s who he is. His hair is long and red, eyes brown with a cunning, almost morbidly curious look in them. He watches me for a moment before moving to stand next to Fenix, who looks rather annoyed by the interruption.

“What do you want? I’m busy at the moment.”

“I heard something was going on in the Sentry Courtyard, so I decided I would come and see what all the commotion was about. What is this exactly? A misbehaving servant?”

Fenix is quiet for a moment, glaring down at me.

“Yes..that’s exactly what this is.”

“Really? I thought he was Eris’s guest. I don’t think he’d be impressed to find out you’ve taken a whip to his back. He might take one to your back.”

Fenix’s scowl deepens, disgust grows like a mold in his eyes. He snatches the whip from the sentry’s hands, pulling his arm back and swinging it forward with most if not all his strength. The whip strikes my back swiftly, leaving a fresh, wretched pain and trail of blood in its wake. I hiss at the feeling, fire spreading once again with a ferocious sting.

“He’s not a guest.”

His words are filled with venom, enough that I’m gritting my teeth and leaning my head on my arms. Mother save me, this isn’t going to end that quickly. Mentally I sigh, of all places I get sent to Autumn. I’m really feeling like I’m fucked.

~~~

Thanks for reading, feel free to give feedback. Enjoy your day/night.

~~~

You can find this fanfiction on Quotev and AO3. On Quotev I go by Ciar, on AO3 I go by Gyra (they're different because some names are already taken).

#acosag #acotar #acotar fanfiction #mortis #a court of shackles and glass #a court of thorns and roses #chapter 3 #chapter three #tarquin #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers

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dealbrekker · 1 year ago

Note

For the Album thingy, Mirotic ^^

Y'all I hissed when I saw this ask 😭

I pulled the album up this morning to remind myself what was on it and was like, oh, just all the songs I had on repeat in college cool cool cool.

I'm breaking this into 2 lists. My instinctive choices, and then the revised one after I listened to the album completely on the way home today. Fun fact, it's exactly the length of my commute excluding the second play of Mirotic. Also, I did the regular album version, not the special edition.

Initial ranking without a playthrough (admittedly I didn't remember what some of them actually sounded like because it's been a hot minute):

1. Mirotic

2. Love In the Ice

3. Wrong Number

4. You're My Melody

5. Hey! Don't Bring Me Down

6. Picture of You

7. Are You a Good Girl

8. Crazy Love

9. Rainbow

10. Paradise

11. Forgotten Season

12. Flower Lady

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After playing, and with explanation:

1. Mirotic (this one I may as well technically exclude from the list because it's its own entity). I know this song is scoffed at lately even by Cassies, but idgaf. It was my first music video of theirs, it's what made me fall in love with them, it was my first look at Yunho and the ruination for my standard for men everywhere. Mirotic means too much to me to ever hate.

2. Love in the Ice. She's my favorite tvxq ballad. She's everything. I slowed down to the speed limit near the end of my drive today so she could finish, that's how much I love her. She never fails to make me sob, and today was no exception. Probably the only tvxq song I don't really want to hear a re-recorded duo version of, and that is saying a ton.

3. Wrong Number: classic, iconic, sexy. Suits!!!!!!! I don't have the Yunho focus mv version saved on a hard drive what are you talking about????.....

4. You're My Melody: this one and Picture of You were in a fight before I even listened to the album, but this one did indeed hit me a little bit more. I think I just connect it more to college days.

5. Hey! Don't Bring Me Down: more iconic moves. I seem to recall camo pants and black tank tops. It was always on my work out playlists back in the day. A jam.

6. Picture of You: I think Hey! beat it out only because I lean more toward upbeat intense songs in general. Still a lovely, nostalgic song

7. Are You a Good Girl: the last one I was right about in my instinct choices. Similar to Hey! in that I want to jam. Diggidumdum.

8. Paradise: This one started and I was like OH RIGHT YESSS and immediately pushed it up in my brain. I think the top 7 are just so intrinsically a part of my kpop awakening and college experience, that that's why the last 5 are where they are. So many tvxq songs are basically written on my bones, though.

9. Forgotten Season: when this one started I was like hmmmm I kind of remember it? But I'm ambivalent. And then I was like, oh okay. Jae solo. And then as usually happens when I listen to Jaejoong sing, he hit a note that made me go OH MY GOD FINNNNEEEE 😭😭😭 and rank it higher. Still one of my fave voices in all of kpop.

10. Flower Lady: I remembered this one better than I thought I would. Very pretty and sweet.

11. Crazy Love: I heard this one for the first time IN AGES the other day, so I thought it would be higher out of nostalgia. But it's just okay for an upbeat song.

12. Rainbow: no shade, bb. I'm a firm believer that tvxq, whether as 5 or 2, don't have a bad song to their name. But this one isn't one of my faves. Pretty standard filler imo.

There it is. The ranking. It HURT but also I'm kind of cool with my instinctive choices being pretty accurate. It's a king of albums situation, and I love it so.

#tvxq #dbsk #tohoshinki #album ranking #song recs #mirotic

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wildthingpoorboy · 2 years ago

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CYOA - Adrien's Average Day Pt 6

Wow. In a CYOA first we have a tie. I did not see that coming. Well the only think I can do in the even of a tie is to be the tie breaker. I dunno, maybe I'll keep limiting it to two choices so this doesn't happen, but we'll see. Sorry if I didn't pick your pick.

"I think I'll go to the park with Rose and Juleka."

"Wonderful!" beamed Rose. "You'll see. The fresh air will wake you right up."

"Cool," Juleka mumbled.

Adrien and his friends finished their lunch, and Adrien headed to the park with Rose and Juleka. It was still the lunch hour so hardly anyone was at the park. There was the usual gentleman feeding the pigeons and one odd jogger around. Adrien took in the pleasant sights and fresh air with a big deep breath.

"Wow," he said. "This is actually really nice."

"I know, right?" said Rose. "Fresh air and sunshine. And look, the flowers are blooming."

Rose went over to a nearby flowerbed and bent over to smell them. Rose's short dress gave Adrien and Juleka a nice view as the hem of the dress went up to reveal Rose's thighs and the pink panties she wore on her tight little bottom. Adrien couldn't help but stare and enjoy the view.

A quick cough from Juleka and the show was over. Rose hopped along and joined Juleka's side as the three continued their walk. Adrien's mind however didn't leave Rose' panties.

'That was nice,' Adrien thought. 'I never thought about it before but Rose is really cute. Too bad she's with Juleka.'

Adrien's eyes wandered over to Juleka. All over Juleka. He examined her slender hourglass figure. Similar to Marinette but a bit taller, he noted.

'Now that I think of it, Juleka has a nice body too,' Adrien thought.

Rose looked around and then to Adrien and smirked. She has noticed something growing in Adrien.

"This was real nice," she said. "Thanks for coming with me, Juleka."

"No prob-" Before Juleka could finish her mumbling, Rose grabbed her face and pulled Juleka in for a kiss. And not just any kiss. A deep tongue kiss that she made sure Adrien saw completely.

Adrien was taken aback by Rose's sudden display of affection but he didn't have time to ponder it as Rose broke the kiss and turned to Adrien.

"Oh my," Rose overdramatically gasped. "Adrien, you have a..."

Rose pointed down for the other two to notice Adrien's tent in his pants. Adrien quickly tried to hide it with his hands, but Rose reached over.

"Here. Juleka and I know how to take care of it. This way," Rose said.

Rose led Adrien and Juleka by the hands into the family restroom in the park. It was big enough to house all three of them. With the door locked, Rose gently pushed Adrien up against the wall. She went down to her knees to undo Adrien's pants and pull them down enough to free his erection.

"Oh wow," she said, almost gawking at Adrien's cock. "It's big."

"Are you sure this is okay?" Adrien asked. He gave a quick look at Juleka who was just as surprised as he was.

"It's fine," said Rose. "Juleka and I know what to do. Right, Juleka?"

"Uh, sure," Juleka mumbled.

Rose took Adrien's cock into her hand. She stroked it slowly at first. After moment, she licked the tip and then the underside and picked up the speed of her hand. Adrien's breathing increased.

'Her hands are so soft!' Adrien thought, amazed. 'It's so different than doing it myself. I don't know how long I can last.'

Rose kept stroking Adrien. Occasionally she licked his shaft and his balls earning a gasp from Adrien each time.

"Um, we need to get back to class," Juleka mumbled.

"Oh? Want to help me finish him faster?" Rose asked. Rose winked at Juleka. Juleka knowingly sighed and pulled her shirt up, exposing her breasts to Adrien.

'They're so pale and perky,' he thought.

"Can I?" Adrien asked. Juleka nodded and Adrien's hands reached out to her breasts. He squeezed them getting a moan from Juleka.

"They're so soft," Adrien thought. He let out a loud moan. The pleasure around his dick had changed. He looked down and saw that now Rose had put his dick in her mouth and was bobbing her head as quick as she could. Adrien let one hand go from Juleka's breast to grab the back of Rose's head and thrust his dick deeper down her throat.

"I'm gonna-" Adrien's warning did little to prepare Rose as he came. His cum filling her mouth and shooting down her. Rose struggled at first, but manage to swallow all of Adrien's hot cum. Rose pulled back and got to her feet. She smiled at Juleka who was pulling her shirt back down and Adrien who was pulling his pants back up.

"Now wasn't that fun?"

The three returned to class in time. Adrien took his seat with a relieved sigh. The rest of class continued as normal until the final bell rang. Adrien collected all his things.

"Adrien," Miss Bustier called out. "Make sure to go to my office about earlier."

Miss Bustier left the room and Alya approached him.

"Hey Adrien," Alya said. "Some of us are heading to my place to hang out. Wanna join us?"

"I dunno," answered Adrien. "I still have to see Miss Bustier. I don't wanna get detention."

"Eh, you can make it up to her later. Just let me know what you're gonna do."

Adrien's phone binged before he could answer her. He pulled it out of his pocket to see he got a text from Nathalie.

"You have an appointment at the Le Grand Hotel," it said.

#mlnsfw #miraculusting

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mrs-steve-harrington · 2 years ago

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Thank you for tagging me @elder-flower! Not sure what this is going to look like by the time I reach the end of it, but I'm gonna try and have fun along the way :D

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

TOP 5 WORKS - not in any particular order

Sleeves - A very self-indulgent Antwan/Keys ficlet I wrote towards the beginning of the year. I remember that, at the time, I thought I was already pretty much done writing Free Guy fic. Writing it at all had been more about getting a different fic to no longer show up under Recent Works on my ao3 dash. Then the idea for this struck me one day while rolling up the sleeves on a button down shirt I don't often wear. It was a lot of fun to write (who knew wrist touching could be so sexy??) and I'm still really proud of it, tbh.

as long as you'll have me - This Steve/Nancy ficlet was written for my pre-July Flash Bingo card. It didn't get much attention, but before season 4 aired, Stancy fic got basically none anyway (and even less when using the Dead by Daylight stuff), so that was expected. I still like it, though. It's not very long, but it has some of my favorite angst in it with Steve being sure Nancy is only kissing him because he's familiar in this strange, dangerous dimension they've ended up in. idk, I just dig it!

Don't Hurt Me - This is a Steve/Nancy ficlet that I wrote for 2021's fandomtrees, but of course it wasn't revealed until January of this year (and I think I probably actually only finished it right before reveals anyway haha). I'd been wanting to write a stancy soulmate au for @stevethehousewife and came across the idea of soulmates being unable to physically harm each other while trying to come up with ideas. I wondered how that might change the alley scene in s1 and started going from there. Again it's Stancy so it didn't get much in the way of attention, but I'm really happy with how it turned out! Plus, there can literally never be too many soulmate fics for any of my ships.

The Craziest Things Happen in Hawkins - A general (no ships), Steve-centered ficlet written for the July Break Bingo that I just really like! It doesn't really have an ending because I couldn't get to one in the time limit (and I was determined to get a BINGO before the month ended). But I don't really care about that. It has exactly what I wanted in it: protective Steve sacrificing himself so that Joyce doesn't get hurt (and so that Jonathan and Will and El don't lose someone important to them so soon after Hopper's death). I'm especially fond of Steve acting like his dad will totally pay a ransom for him when he knows it's a lie, and also knows he probably won't make it back from this. I just don't get to write protective Steve enough because I have too much fun with angsty Steve, but this was great!

Answering Your Call - My first written and published ABO fic! Of course it would be for Stranger Things and Jonathan/Steve/Nancy. I'd have it no other way. This was originally written for an event in the 30+ Fic Writers discord server I'm in (though I never added it to that collection because the people there are lovely and tend to comment on event fics even in fandoms they don't know and I didn't want anyone to feel pressured into reading it if they wouldn't have normally gravitated towards it). I've always been too intimidated by ABO stuff because there's so much of the au that squicks me, and I still have trouble articulating what I want from it myself. But I loved getting to write protective alpha Nancy and Super Growly and Protective Jonathan refusing to let omega Steve get hurt. There's that touch of angst that I love (and would make even angstier if I ever continued with it), but also some comfort and idk, it's just good stuff imo.

TOP 4 CURRENT WIPS - also in no particular order

Steve presents as an omega late (Stoncy) - A fic where Steve always secretly hoped he would present as an omega because he liked the idea that he might be wanted, might be taken care of, might be able to have children and a big family after feeling very alone in his own family. And he does eventually present as an omega, but it happens post-S4 and rather than cause any problems for everyone, he keeps it a secret. That way none of the kids feel bad about moving on after high school, and the adults won't worry about someone needing to stick around either because he's keeping an eye on things. (People do not see omegas as weak, just important and they wouldn't want him stuck with the weight alone).

The real meat of the fic won't start until after all of this, when he goes into crisis after his body starts rejecting his suppressants and Nancy and Jonathan are brought in to help him, resulting in the three of them forming a bond while he's in heat (but without the non/dub-con sex that accompanies this sort of thing usually) and him angsting about forcing them into something they couldn't have wanted (but of course the three of them having been pining for each other for YEARS).

soulmate au (Stoncy) - Siiiiiigh. The very same soulmate au I've been working on since, idk, 2019 or 2020 or something. A long ass time. But while unsuccessfully trying to get it finished for Fandom Trumps Hate this year, I ended up figuring out how to get to the ending. It's just a matter of actually writing the damn thing. There's only gonna be 3 Stoncy readers left by then, but whatever. This is still the most self-indulgent fic I've ever worked on and I love it so much. I want other people to be able to read it!!

anything (anything) for you part 2 (Stoncy) - Another wip that has been in the works for a long, long time. Two more chapters are written, but I've been stuck on Chapter 4 for over a year or something. But I've brainstormed with a couple of friends and I think I have a solid idea for where it should go. I dug myself into a bit of a hole with their relationship and it took a while to figure out how Nancy and Jonathan could possibly find out that Steve was faking his feelings for Jonathan in desperation to keep being allowed to date Nancy, without them ending things. But it should be good. Just another thing that I have to actually try to write, which is unfortunately the hardest part.

Deal with Vecna (Vecna/Steve) - A fic where, in the aftermath of hearing some harsh things about himself, Steve decides to try and trade his life for Max's because then at least he'll have done something to help. Only Vecna decides he'd rather have Steve's body than take his life. I've gotten the whole first part done, but I'm still struggling with where I want it to go and whether or not Steve should be saved.

3 BIGGEST IMPROVEMENTS

None! I may have actually gotten worse at both writing AND finishing things!! But it was a really hard year of writing for me. It's whatever!

TOP 2 RESOLUTIONS

Post at least 1 fic per month next year. This year I went through a stretch where I didn't post anything for a whole month (maybe two?) and it fucked with my mentally and emotionally. I hate it. So I would like to try and keep that from happening again!!

Be even MORE self-indulgent. If only a handful of people are gonna enjoy my stuff anyway, I might as well put everything I like into a fic without taking other people into consideration (I say knowing full well this will not happen but I can dream).

NUMBER 1 FAVORITE LINE

You don't even want to know how many fics I skimmed through to try and find any lines that worked well on their own. Not even sure how much this one does. But it stood out to me and I don't think it's too shabby.

— Every step of the way, some part of him is touching Keys' arm—the ends of his fingers as he holds him in place, the knuckles of his thumbs when he tugs the material taut.

Tagging: @stevethehousewife @urisarang @readythefanons @tkwritesdumbassassins

#thanks for tagging me!#tag game #my fic #my writing

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