#i just realized this list was posted almost to the day of the 1 year anniversary of publishing this fic

[xechu]

[Devour] Chapter 2: Yearning

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.

Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna

Summary: Sukuna brings you back to a temple, where he resides. There you also meet Uraume. You begin to doubt if running away was the best idea, but then, Sukuna offers to be your ally. Unbeknownst to you, he has his own ulterior motives for helping you.

A/N: It's here! Not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this chapter. Since this is a mini series, I would say we're already about 35% through the story, things will progress quickly in the upcoming chapters. Based on my planning, I'm looking at about four more chapters. I don't have an exact release date for Chapter 3 like I did with this chapter, but I'll post an update when it's almost complete! If you would like to be added on the tag list for this series, please let me know/leave a comment here. Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x

Masterlist: < Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 (To be continued) >

Sukuna had always deemed love meaningless. It was a feeling that held people back, making them irrational and reckless. Over the years, he had witnessed the greatest kingdoms burn and the strongest men fall, all in the name of 'love.' But the tragedy lay in the fact that, after all was said and done, that love seldom lasted. At the end of the day, people were weak and fickle, rendering love volatile. He often wanted to ask those who sacrificed everything for love: Was it all worth it in the end?

In order to attain his height of power—to become the strongest—Sukuna had given up everything, including his humanity. He had mastered the art of detachment, for attachments only served to tie one down. Letting go of all things was the inevitable cost of power, but it was an easy and insignificant sacrifice for someone like him—who had nothing to lose in the first place.

Yet, despite the King of Curses' strong convictions, there remained one glaring contradiction in his life: you. No matter how hard he tried, he could not detach himself from you. Even after all these years, his burning desire for you was a flame he could not quell, and it only seemed to grow hungrier with time.

Throughout the years, Sukuna had conditioned himself into believing that you were always going to be an unattainable dream—a fantasy that was never meant to become reality. It was better that it remained this way. You deserved to live a peaceful life, and he could continue to live out his days as the King of Curses without restraint.

But what should he do—now that his dream had become reality?

For someone with a wretched life like his, he never believed in any gods. But for the first time in his life, the King of Curses acknowledged that this reunion must have been the universe's divine will—a preordained fate. It seemed that the two of you were destined to be together.

Yes, he thought to himself, since the universe has willed it, then you shall be his exception.

He vowed that as long as he kept you by his side, you would not be a source of his weakness.

At this realization, a dark possessiveness took over him.

This time he would stake his claim.

---

Though you were no longer the little girl Sukuna had once met, he couldn't help but notice how small you were under his hold. Some things didn't change; you were still his little flower.

“It’s me, flower,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice as if he were calling into your subconscious, imploring you to remember.

You trembled in his embrace; the adrenaline coursing through you made it difficult to think straight. His words did not register as you struggled to gather your chaotic thoughts, while your mind screamed at you to run.

You remind me of flowers. The voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

“R-Ryo?” you gasped, finally making the connection.

With shaking hands, you roamed his figure, seeking confirmation in the darkness. Your fingertips softly brushed over his features. Was this a dream? Had you already died? How was it that after all these years, he was finally here—especially in your most dire moment? The surrealness of this situation felt too good to be true.

“I-It really is you,” your voice quivered with emotion. “I-I can't believe it. All this time... I thought I would never see you again."

“I'm here now, flower,” he said, capturing your hand in his. “Come with me; it’s not safe.”

Before you could utter another word, he effortlessly scooped you up, and you instinctively held on to him, tightening your grip, afraid that if you let go he would slip away again.

Sukuna traversed the forest at an inhuman speed. He seemed to know the terrain well, navigating it with ease, but for you, all you saw was unending darkness; the gust of wind threading through your hair was the only sign that you were moving. Your heart raced as he cradled you against his strong body; you could feel the heat radiating from him, evoking a warm and familiar feeling within you—a feeling that you have yearned for so many years.

Moments later, you found yourself in a clearing. Under the clear night sky, vast greenery and towering mountains loomed around you. At the foot of one mountain, a grand tree stood beside an ancient temple. Sukuna gently set you on your feet, and now that you were out in the clearing, you could get a better look at him. Standing before you was no longer the little boy from your memories; he had transformed into a formidable man—perhaps the largest person you had ever seen. He wore an oversized kimono, his bare chest exposed, and his muscular build attested to the life he had lived throughout the years. Your gaze was then drawn to the unmistakable bloodstains on his clothing.

“Are you hurt?” your brows furrowed in concern as your hand ghosted over the stains.

“Nothing worth fretting over; they do not belong to me,” he said, a smile involuntarily curving his lips at the concern you displayed.

Sukuna lifted your chin to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, he could see you with much more clarity.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of longing evident in his eyes.

Heat rushed to your face at his touch, but you were grateful that the night concealed it.

“How did you know to find me?" you quietly asked.

“The forest and the mountain are my domain,” Sukuna replied, brushing his thumb over your lower lip, as if he was trying to engrave your features into his memory. “You were lucky I found you before something else did.”

Something in your gut told you it couldn't have been mere coincidence, but you decided to keep that thought to yourself. It wasn't the time nor the place for interrogations.

"I see," you smiled wearily. "Thank you... you saved me yet again."

Your words stirred a nostalgic memory within him.

As you continued to stand there in silence, the brave facade you had been putting up began to crumble. All the events that had led you to this moment settled within you, and the feelings you had long suppressed surged to the surface—grief, resentment, confusion, fear, relief, yearning—a tempest you could no longer keep at bay.

“All these years, I’ve been searching for you,” your voice cracked, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I know," he replied, his tone low and hushed.

“Y-You did?"

Sukuna nodded.

"Then why, Ryo? Did you not want to see me?” Your chest tightened at his admission, and tears began to roll down your face.

“It was for the best.” Sukuna's jaw clenched. The sight of you crying evoked a sense of dread within him.

“The best for who?”

A brief silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words.

“That no longer matters, flower. We're here now, and I won't let you go again,” he said, gently wiping a stray tear from your face.

You knew he was hiding something from you, but that mattered little right now. Your body reacted before your mind, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

---

Wooden floors creaked beneath you as you crossed the threshold of the temple, and an inexplicable wave of energy washed over you. It was intense yet comforting, like the warmth of the sun—like him.

The temple was small and modest, but it felt peaceful and comfortable. It was also evident that the wooden interior had been well-maintained despite how ancient it was. The air was filled with the soothing scents of incense and cedarwood.

The earlier conversation with Sukuna loomed over you, leaving so many questions unanswered. While you could still sense a semblance of the little boy within him, he also felt unfamiliar and distant; after all, so much time had passed. You longed to know everything about him, to fill in the gaps, but perhaps that would have to wait.

As you took a closer look around the main hall, your eyes wandered to the beautifully crafted sliding doors at the back, which were fully open to reveal a serene garden that captivated you with its lush greenery and vibrant flowers.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed.

Sukuna looked at you under the soft glow of the candlelight illuminating the hall, and your heart began to race under his gaze amid the intimacy of the setting. He watched you intently as if he could hear the intense beating of your heart—

“Sukuna-sama, you’re back,” a gentle voice cut through the air.

You turned to find a young person standing there. Their gender was ambiguous, but their appearance reminded you of winter's first snowfall. They exuded a calm and serene presence.

“Uraume,” Sukuna acknowledged, gesturing toward you. “She is with me. Draw her a bath and prepare some fresh clothes. I’ll get a fire started.”

“Yes, Sukuna-sama,” Uraume replied, hastily leaving for the back of the temple.

You watched as Sukuna stripped off his kimono, revealing his muscular upper body adorned with tattoos.

“Ryo, where are you going?” you asked, trying to mask the fluster in your voice.

Sukuna turned back to look at you with a smile. “I’m going to hunt some game. We’ll fill our stomachs before going to bed.”

---

The warmth of the hot spring quickly melted away the stress of the day. You still could not wrap your head around the uncanny turn of events; it felt like a nightmare turned dream. Instead of being married to Lord Yamamoto, you were now reunited with the one person who had always occupied your thoughts. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you reached for a washcloth to gently remove your makeup. You knew that there would be other matters to address later, but for now, you wanted to savor this brief respite.

Sinking the lower half of your head into the water, you blew small bubbles, and images of Sukuna and the man he had become flashed in your mind, sending a warmth throughout your body.

Sukuna's renown had been spreading in recent years, and you were acutely aware of his reputation. Whispers surrounded him, calling him the King of Curses—the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the era. There was much debate over whether he was merely a man or a deity, while others believed him to be a demon in disguise. Your village, having a strong aversion to jujutsu sorcery, viewed it as more of a curse than a gift and seemed to believe he was nothing short of a demon.

Regardless, you had only ever known him as Ryo, so you never gave much thought to the rumors. Man, deity, or demon—whatever he was, you would have accepted him unconditionally. Despite the time apart, you still felt an inexplicable tether to him.

I won't let you go again.

Those words stirred an emotion within you when he had initially spoken them, but doubts and hesitation lingered in your mind. Had it not been for your current predicament, you would have been more inclined to stay with him.

You held your breath and submerged yourself entirely beneath the warm water, hoping to silence these chaotic thoughts—even if just for a moment.

---

Feeling refreshed as you stepped out of the temple in a new set of clothes, you noticed that a fire had already been started and that Uraume was preparing some vegetables.

“Uraume-san,” you smiled as you walked over, “is there anything I can help you with?”

“Y/N-san,” Uraume exclaimed, a gentle light in their eyes. “All the preparations are nearly complete. Why don’t you sit by the fire first? Sukuna-sama should be back soon.”

You hesitated and looked to see if there was still anything to help with, but noticing how there was not much else, you acquiesced and made your way to the fire. You watched in awe as Uraume skillfully finished the last touches of their work. Soon after, they settled down beside you. It was a comfortable silence between the two of you, accompanied by the crackling of the fire.

“Have you and Ryo always lived here?” you tried to make conversation.

Uraume nodded, their expression thoughtful. “We’ve lived here for quite some time. I owe him my life.”

You looked at Uraume, curiosity piqued.

“I was at death’s door when he found me as a child,” Uraume confessed softly. “He took me under his wing.”

“He’s always been kind.” You smiled contemplatively.

“Yes,” Uraume agreed. There was a brief pause. “He…has also mentioned you before.”

“He has?”

Uraume nodded. “He said there was once a girl he met who lived in a village not too far from here. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and she reminded him of flowers. When I saw you, I knew you were that girl.”

It warmed your heart to know that he had spoken about you, but it also felt bittersweet.

“Ah, he’s back,” Uraume remarked, glancing behind you.

Your eyes widened at the spectacular sight before you. Sukuna had a deer slung over his shoulder, effortlessly making his way toward the two of you; he trekked as if the deer weighed nothing.

Sukuna dropped the deer by the fire, and Uraume instinctively got up, ready to prepare the meat. You watched as Sukuna slashed the deer's throat, collecting the blood in a bowl. A wave of queasiness washed over you, and you looked away, unable to face the brutal sight. Sukuna settled down beside you while Uraume got to work, efficiently cutting up the rest of the deer.

“Drink every last drop,” he commanded, handing the bowl to you.

“I—I don't think I can,” you put your hand out in defense, the metallic stench making your stomach churn.

“You are malnourished,” he said, grabbing your wrist to examine its size. “Have you not been looking after yourself?”

“I have,” you insisted, attempting to wiggle your wrist free from his grasp. His touch felt searing against your skin.

“You will drink this, unless you would like me to feed you,” Sukuna insisted, handing you the bowl once more, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for argument.

You took the bowl in both hands, trembling slightly. As you watched the thick red liquid swirl inside, you held your breath and brought it to your lips, tilting it ever so slightly and allowing the liquid to slip into your mouth and down your throat. Just as you were about to lower the bowl, Sukuna's hand clasped over yours, tilting the bowl upward to ensure you finished everything.

“That’s it, flower—every last drop,” he said, his voice low and steady. When he was satisfied that you had consumed all of it, he released his grip and took the bowl from your hands. You gagged at the aftertaste, coughing as a trickle of blood ran down your chin. Sukuna's eyes grew dark at the sight; he wiped the blood from your chin with his thumb, then licked it clean.

“Ryo—!” you gasped, teary-eyed. “N-no more of that, please.”

“That will depend on how well you eat,” a hint of playfulness threaded through his voice.

“Do you drink this too?” you asked, clearing your throat.

"Of course, the blood of a deer is a highly nutritious delicacy. Did you know in some places, it is a drink shared by a married couple on their wedding night?" Sukuna smirked.

You shudder at the thought. This blood drinking experience was something that you hoped would be your first and last. But the slight implication that Sukuna made at the end also made you a bit shy.

Uraume handed a plate of skewered meat to Sukuna, and you marveled at how quickly they had prepared it. You watched as Sukuna stabbed each skewer into the ground by the fire, your attention lingering on the flames that seemed to beckon you.

"I should have whisked you away from the village earlier, had I known you were not being fed properly." Sukuna intently watched you with one of his eyes, sensing your tension.

"Well, why didn't you?" you muttered. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it.

You were sure he had his reasons for staying away, yet you couldn’t hide your disappointment in him for keeping his distance. So much precious time had been lost, and so many what-ifs lingered in your mind.

It was juvenile, but you often dreamt of how the two of you would grow up together—an inseparable duo, the best of friends. Then, when you came of age, he would have asked you to follow him, and you would have gladly followed him anywhere. The two of you would travel all over the land, experiencing the world side by side. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, he would have asked you to marry him, and you would have said 'yes' without skipping a beat—

"Come now, don't sulk, flower," Sukuna said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "You're here now. We will make up for lost time."

"You speak as if I'm going to be staying here for good," you couldn't help but challenge him a little.

It might have been your imagination, but you thought his expression darkened for a split second.

"It sounds like you have somewhere to go then."

"I—well, I didn’t have too much time to think details. But I planned to make my way to a far out village, where no one will be able to find me."

"That would be difficult," Sukuna hummed.

"It’s worth a try… better than yielding to the fate I was subjugated to." You hugged your knees.

"Enlighten me, what was someone’s bride doing in the middle of the forest?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

There was a hesitation in telling him about your plight, but you knew it was also an unavoidable topic—after all, he had saved you, so an explanation was due at the very least.

“I ran away… from a marriage I wanted no part of.”

“How bold,” he chuckled. “It’s very like you.”

“It’s hardly a laughing matter, Ryo,” you huffed, anxiety evident in your voice.

“But you've successfully escaped. Should this not be a cause to celebrate?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“I don't know if I would consider it successful just yet," you narrowed your eyes. "I didn’t just run away from any man; I ran away from a lord. My village hoped to leverage my marriage with Lord Yamamoto for aid. There will be repercussions for my actions.”

Sukuna listened as he rotated the skewers.

"Hm, I suppose that is quite the predicament. Whatever shall you do then?" His question came out more like a taunt than a show of concern.

"Are you mocking my situation?" You frowned, your expression dropping as self-doubt crept in. You had to admit that you'd been reckless with your decision, and you didn't exactly have a reliable plan. You wouldn’t have even made it out of the forest had it not been for Sukuna.

“Of course not. Don't look so defeated," he softly tsked, smoothing the crease between your brows with his fingers.

You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

"Is there any reason for you to worry if I am going to be by your side?" he returned your gaze, a burning confidence in his eyes.

“It’s not so simple, Ryo. I don’t want you to be caught in my problems—”

“A mere lord and your measly village is not a problem,” Sukuna replied, passing a skewer to you.

You reluctantly accepted the skewer, your fingers momentarily brushing against his hand during the exchange. As divine as the meat smelled, you couldn't bring yourself to eat; your worries and anxiety loomed large over your head.

"It's not going to eat itself if you keep staring at it," Sukuna sighed, crossing his four arms and giving you a stern look.

Taking a tiny bite, your eyes momentarily lit up. It tasted even better than it smelled. Before you knew it, you had devoured the entire skewer, and Sukuna was already handing you another one. Perhaps you were hungrier than you had thought, but his pleased expression did not escape you—he cared, and that alone filled you with immense happiness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It's not about what I want," you shook your head. "What if something happens to both of you because of me?"

"You needn't worry about us, Y/N-san; we are more than capable of dealing with Lord Yamamoto," Uraume smiled at you. Their gentle reassurance only seemed to amplify your guilt.

"We can't be sure of that—"

“Are you not aware of what they call me?”

You sighed, a sense of apprehension filling your chest. "I am..."

“Then if you know my reputation, you should understand that even if Lord Yamamoto and his entire arsenal, along with your village, were to descend upon us right now, they would not stand a chance.”

Sukuna seemed adamant about helping, but that only served to heighten your uneasiness. It wasn't that you doubted his capabilities; but you also understood that your actions would have dire consequences. A runaway bride of Lord Yamamoto wasn't a matter that would be overlooked so easily. Surely, the four men who had escorted you had reported back to their lord that you had escaped. Even if Sukuna could easily deal with them, he would be branded a criminal—forever having to be on the run. He had endured enough hardships in his life, and it felt like you were only adding to his strife. You didn't deserve this kindness from him; his life was fine before you came along.

"This will be your home. You will be safe as long as you stay by my side. So stay here, Y/N.” An unexpected possessiveness laced Sukuna's voice.

You looked up at Sukuna in surprise; you had never heard him call your name before. His eyes silently pleaded with you to stay—shattering your resolve.

"Tell me you need my help, flower," Sukuna urged, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

A lingering silence filled the air, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Help me, Ryo…" you finally said.

---

You hadn't felt so full in a long time. Sukuna had ensured you ate your share of food before retiring to bed. Following behind him, you were led to your sleeping accommodations, and to your surprise, he took you into his chamber, which overlooked a small private garden and hot spring.

The temple was modest in size, containing only two bedrooms. It didn’t feel right to intrude on Uraume's private quarters, especially since it was Sukuna's decision to keep you, but he also couldn’t deny he had other intentions.

Before crawling into bed, you turned to meet Sukuna's gaze.

“Ryo… I don’t know how I could ever repay you. If there's anything I can do for you, you must tell me," you said earnestly.

“Hmm,” he paused, feigning contemplation.

You looked at him eagerly, trying to anticipate what he could ask for.

"Anything?" he drawled, rubbing his chin.

You nodded.

“Alright," he smirked, "swear yourself to me.”

Your eyes widened. You weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, but you trusted him implicitly. He most likely needed an extra hand with taking care of the temple and doing some extra work around here.

“A-are you sure that’s all you want? That hardly seems adequate, I am troubling you after all.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves.

"You undermine yourself, flower."

“Oh, well, I do have many skills I could offer, and I promise to be useful around here. I’m quite knowledgeable about plants, herbs, and flowers. I may not be as good a cook as Uraume, but—”

"Staying by my side is enough," he interjected.

There was a sincerity in his voice that was new to you, making your heart do flips inside your chest.

"Ryo..." you spoke quietly, clasping your hands tightly. "I might misunderstand if you're so kind to me."

Oh, what a delight you were. Sukuna felt an intense urge to smother you.

“Well, what if I wanted more than just your domestic skills?” he asked lowly, taking a lock of your hair into his hands.

Your heart raced, and suddenly the room felt hot as you understood his implications.

“Is that… what you truly desire?"

"And if it is?"

There was a brief pause.

Just this morning, you were still in utter despair, wholly expecting to be wedded to a monster. But now, in this moment, it was not Lord Yamamoto before you, but rather the man of your dreams—the only man you had wished to marry. He had long claimed your mind and heart; what more was your body?

"Then take me," your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but why did he feel so disappointed by your response? It almost rolled off your tongue too easily.

"You would just give yourself to any man, so long as they ask?"

"N-no, you misunderstand!"

Sukuna remained silent, the look in his eyes demanding you to elaborate.

"If that were true, I wouldn’t have ran away from Lord Yamamoto. You're not just any man to me, Ryo. I—" love you. The heat crept up to your ears.

Your timid confession sent a chilling thrill through his body, awakening a primal hunger within him, he could no longer resist.

“Do you truly wish to be mine?” he asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt dizzy under his touch and gaze.

"Yes..."

"Look at me and say it." He hissed.

"I'm yours, Ryo. I want to be yours." You met his eyes and gently took his hand, placing it over your heart, hoping he could feel how violently it was beating against your chest.

“You didn’t need to ask me to swear myself to you; I would have gladly followed you anywhere. I've felt that way ever since we were children.”

Sukuna was rarely caught off guard. The first time he recalled was when you approached him as a child, and the second was this very moment. You had just confessed your feelings for him and expressed a desire to stay with him of your own volition. Nobody else had ever been able to elicit these feelings from him, and the dominion you unknowingly held over him was both terrifying and thrilling.

"Then I will take you, flower—your heart, body, and soul."

Without sparing another moment, he wrapped his hand behind your head and crushed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you fell silent.

For once, it felt as if the universe had smiled upon his wretched life.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pictures used for the banner.

Taglist: @paradisestarfishh @ssetsuka

[directdogman]

Hi, I hope you're having a decent day! I'm sorry if this is an invasive set of questions - feel free not to answer - but do you still actively like DSaF as your own creation, or is it more of a "it was fun while it lasted but i outgrew it and it's for the best to leave it behind" kind of project? Do you ever regret making the games? If you knew they would get so popular, is there anything you would have changed about them? Is there anywhere I could read more of your writing.

It fluctuates a bit. These last couple of years, I've really just been sorta nostalgic for it. I've seen a lot of people discuss those games being a source of comfort during bad times in their lives, people talking about how much the characters mean to them and it's hard not to smile when you see that.

It's a funny thing for close friends of yours to see people WITH fanmade DSaF merch out in the wild, or to watch a random youtube video and being hit with a DSaF reference outta nowhere. It happens from time to time, even today. On a few occasions, I've even had a person reference my work to me in real life and not realize who they were talking to, believe it or not. It's really fun to play dumb and get someone to explain your work to you like you don't know what it is.

I certainly didn't think any of that would happen when I first made the series, or even during development. I think the normal assumption would be to look at DSaF as it exists now and assume its release was a peak for it, but believe it or not, the official discord only had 30 people in it shortly before 3 dropped! The archive listing of the series (reposted to a single page after the series ended) is now sitting at over 1.1 MILLION downloads.

People kinda assume the true heyday of something is when it's new, when it's fresh and novel. For instance, some people look back at when FNaF itself was new and see that time as its peak because it had a lot of internet cultural relevance as big new indie thing on the block. But, raw numbers don't lie. The series has been continually growing since its conception and that growth has similarly bled over to its fan projects. This explains why DSaF, despite not having a new series release in almost 6 years, seems to be inexplicably growing.

Just recently, I saw someone post footage of a scene from DSaF 2 on Twitter, which got over 16k likes. People praised its writing and largely celebrated the scene. The ironic thing about that particular scene is that I remembered being unsure if it was good or not, so I showed it off in one of the FNaF community hubs. The response was broadly lukewarm to negative. Now, it's held up as one of the best scenes in those games. That's kind of the point I'm trying to make, my thoughts on the series have certainly changed with everyone's else with years of hindsight.

Heh. I'm not sure if I've talked about this in a long time, but y'know, the very first scene I implemented in-game was actually the very first Phone Guy scene in DSaF 1, more or less exactly how it appears in-game today. This was before I'd even written the bulk of the game. I was pretty unfamiliar with visual novels as a whole, pretty unsure if something like this would be palatable to a fandom that was really just used to sit 'n' survive stuff that were far more gameplay than text. I mean, there wasn't any FNaF fangames really LIKE DSaF before that point. Closest was FNaFb, a jokey turn based RPG made in the same engine.

The engine I made the game in is also not exactly fit for VNs out of the box either, and I wasn't 100% sure the idea would actually work. But, the very first time I added the image of the prize corner, Phone Guy, the audio of that iconic cheesy stock track and booted up a test screen, I had a little moment where I said "Oh. I think I'm onto something interesting here." I kinda remembering instantly realizing in that single moment how much potential the idea had. Over 8 years later, I still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

I think lately, that's the sort of stuff I think of when I see people coming to me and asking about the series. Yes, it's really rough around the edges, yes, there's jokes that've aged poorly. But, it is a source of comfort for people and entertains tens of thousands of people each month. And that's gotta count for something, right?

[monbons]

Stitches and Sentences Roundup 2024

Thanks for the tags on your writing round ups @run-for-chamo-miles, @drowninginships, and @emeryhall! I just got back from a weeklong trip and instead of doing laundry, I'm joining in on the roundup fun.

FIC I moved from lurker to active fandom participant this year with a bang. I posted my first fic ever for EGF and have basically been writing or posting non-stop since then. I wrote/co-wrote 5 fics this year and clocked in at 101, 725 words.

Kill Em With Kindness - rated T, 6.5k, Watford-Era, getting together fic

When no one seems to care that Baz is sad, Simon steps in to help. The only reasonable explanation for all Simon's kindness is that he's trying to kill Baz, right? (My most popular fic as measured by kudos.)

Knock Your Socks Off - rated T, 4k, Watford-Era, 7th year fic

Baz steals Simon's socks. Simon blames the sock monster. Chaos ensues.

The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch - rated M, 42k, Addie LaRue AU, a truly epic romance

Told in two alternating timelines that span from 1700s Hampshire all the way to early 2000's Washington, DC, this fic follows Baz as he spends centuries searching for the love of all his lives. (This was the fic that convinced me I could write long and holds a very special place in my heart. Is it angsty? Yes. Is it some of the most beautiful prose I've ever written? Also yes.)

The Boy Next Door - rated M, 47k, and they were neighbors AU, a coming of age romance

When Simon moves in with his gran, he decides to befriend the mysterious boy next door. He changes both their lives in the process. (My most popular fic by literally every other measure.)

The Reason for The Season - rated T, 1.6k, text fic, co-written with @thewholelemon

Dev and Niall make a list. Holiday hijinks abound. (A bday gift for @mooncello)

ART I do not currently have a great way to track my dolls and searched my Instagram to do the math, only to realize I hadn't posted every doll I made either! (If anyone has a good art tracking system, I'm open to ideas.) If my count is correct, I clocked in at a grand total of 35 dolls this year, including:

10 Simons

15 Bazzes

2 Pennys

2 Nialls

2 Devs

1 Mage

1 Fiona

1 Agatha

1 Shep

The picture below shows my earliest dolls, where I was still experimenting with style and form. As you can see, many of them are quite flat. (Fun fact: All of these dolls--including their clothing--were made before I owned a sewing machine.)

Going 3D was actually an accident, but we have the Watford Baz and Simon below to thank for it! After committing to 3D dolls, I kept evolving my pattern---improving joints, proportions, and adding details like ears!---until we reached my most current iterations.

Now every doll has their own special pattern that takes into account their canon proportions, where available. Notice Baz is tall and slender where Simon is extra fluffy!

I did not include any of the dolls I created for COC 2024 since I assume everyone has seen them already, but I linked the master post in case you missed a day.

Finally, in addition to dolls, I also created 2 plushies (a merwolf and a bunbaz) plus 12 finger puppets this year.

It's hard to quantify dolls like fics, especially since almost every doll before COC did not have a dedicated tumblr post. However, here are some fun art stats:

Most Popular Art Post: The Watford Map

Most Popular Doll: FIONA!

Second Most Popular Doll: Felt Smut (Look @emeryhall! Dragonboy Simon is indeed the sexiest given that this is my duplicate of your doll!)

I also had three art collaborations this year:

Baz and The Prophecy - Doll and Tapestry, a COTTA collaboration with @iamamythologicalcreature

Ballet Baz and Disco Simon - a CORB collaboration with @melodysmash (Read the fic she wrote--Body Language. It is as adorable as these dolls!)

Watford Advent Map - a tapestry made for COC 2024 with help from @rimeswithpurple

While it has definitely been a fabulously productive year, I think my greatest achievement has been all the new friendships I've fostered because of fandom. Y'all bring me so much joy, and I am so happy I found this little corner of the internet.

I am currently drained of all creative energy (I can't imagine why!), so you may not hear from me for a while. However, I promise I am still around---likely catching up on all the fic and art I've missed while being a literal word and doll factory. With all that said, if you have an idea and wanna collab in the new year, I'm all ears and tons of fun!

Hellos and high-fives for the last time in 2024! @alexalexinii, @argumentativeantitheticalg, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @artsyunderstudy

@best--dress, @blackberrysummerblog, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @bookish-bogwitch, @confused-bi-queer

@cutestkilla, @emeryhall, @facewithoutheart, @harrie-leithillustration, @hushed-chorus

@ic3que3n, @ileadacharmedlife, @katatsumuli, @larkral, @letraspal

@martsonmars, @messofthejess, @mooncello, @noblecorgi, @orange-peony

@raenestee, @rbkzz, @roomwithanopenfire, @shrekgogurt, @skeedelvee

@stitchyqueer, @supercutedinosaurs, @talentpiper11, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @theimpossibledemon

@valeffelees, @whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 1

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe (Will) never had too much trouble adapting (Season 2).

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (we're all adults here), Joe actually loses his mind a little at the end.

Now for something nobody expected! The long-awaited rewrite for Infatuation... I have 40 pages of this, by the way. I'd like for *some* of them to see the light of day... and so I've told myself: If I wait for it to be perfect, It'll never be posted. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts! xoxo Ona

My eyes roamed the list of names by the front door of the apartment complex. There were about four total, so finding yours was the easiest part. The hardest step came in the form of mustering up the courage to press the buzzer. But, was it really a trouble with courage? The more I thought, as my finger hovered over the button, the more I began to consider it to be uncertainty.

I pause and reach my other hand into my pocket. My fingers slide across the screen of your phone, and I remind myself why I'm here. Simply put, I’m here to give you your phone back. I found it on the passenger’s seat of my car and almost thought to tell Love… Instantly, a part of me knew she would’ve pried it from my grip to give to you herself – and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for us to speak again, this time unmonitored by her perceptive gaze and sharp ears… and without the alcohol in your system.

Last night, you clung to Love as she touched you tenderly, playing the role of your dutiful sober saviour. She hosted a dinner and she invited her friends. One of them was you.

“A good friend,” She had called you. The last she’d spoken to you was ten years ago, and I guess I hadn’t realized good friends stay out of reach for a decade at a time. It didn’t matter how much time had split you two apart, though, because Love embraced you with a warm smile and open arms. There wasn’t any malice, no judgement either. She was just happy to have you back in her life. When you got too drunk to take public transportation, Love tried to coax you into staying the night. You wouldn’t budge, even with a slipping tongue, fluttering eyes, and a head too heavy to stay upright. So she compromised: you let her coddle you, sober you up just enough, and I drove you home. It wasn’t even that late, Love just couldn't stop pouring you wine after wine after wine. You seemed like you needed it, though. Tense as you were. Pent up little thing.

“What’s your relationship like with Love?” I asked, feeling rather bold with your inebriated self. The image of her hand resting on your thigh flashed in my mind. I laughed. “She hadn’t mentioned you until you’d moved back to LA. She practically can't shut up about you now.”

You shifted in your seat like a child. No position in my car seemed comfortable for you, and you had made it more than obvious.

“She’s a good friend.” You responded and looked out the window like it meant something. Love had said the same thing — I believed you both — but I felt as though you were withholding something else from the conversation. The annoying bell on your purse jingles as you tuck it closer to your side.

“You two seem close. Should I be concerned?” I then asked teasingly, laughing to fill the awkward tension of a silent car ride. I wanted to spark something in you, but you brushed it off as you curled your arms around your waist.

“I think I had too much to drink…” I glanced at you, and I was suddenly nervous. Your coat was askew, hanging off your shoulders. I knew you were drunk, but your direct announcement sounded to me as a warning.

“Tell me if you need to throw up, okay?” You slowly nodded before slotting your forehead against the cool car window. We remained like that until you got home, choosing to stumble your way for a block to feel a semblance of privacy – but I watched you walk up those steps. I knew your building, and you were still too fucked up to realize.

I pull your phone out of my pocket and look it over one more time. My thumb runs over the plastic case before turning it around and looking at myself in the black reflection.

Your phone is dead. Has been since I found it. None of my chargers fit into the port, unsurprisingly. It’s one of those phones where the keyboard slides out, for Pete's sake. Your phone is more than a few generations old. A brick. I chewed my fingers raw trying anything I could to get it started again – I wanted to pry, really. I’ll be honest with you here, I really wanted this glimpse into your personal affairs.

I wondered, exasperatedly, about what you were hiding behind this screen. Clutching it tighter into my palm, I lift my free hand and press the buzzer.

A few long moments after the sound, I hear a click.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Will –” I begin to say, ready to explain myself in the same manner I had rehearsed at home, eating breakfast, in the car, and on my way up the steps. However, you cut me off immediately.

“Do you have my phone?”

My heart skips a beat and I’m momentarily stunned. I blink a few times before speaking.

“Yeah, actually.” I replied. “I found it on the passenger seat this morning, I guess I didn't see it when I got home last night.”

“I’m going to buzz you in.” Perfect.

After hearing the buzzer, the door clicked. I made my way inside. The stairs were wooden and creaky, the walls showing obvious water damage, and the lights hummed obnoxiously. Obviously, none of this was of your doing. Your landlord just didn’t care.

Your door’s paint was chipping off, revealing the cracked wooden layer underneath, but the rusted numbers on your door somehow looked worse. I knocked.

I heard the shuffling of your feet from behind the door before it opened. When your head peeked out, you gave me a smile and extended your hand.

I momentarily look at it, thinking… Right. I drop your phone into your awaiting palm. I almost thought you wanted me to reach out as well. That would’ve been too good, right?

“May I use your bathroom?” I ask.

Your mouth opens momentarily, as you look away and off to the side. There’s nothing there, you’re simply thinking it through and disappearing into your head again.

“Sure.” You then reply, reluctantly scooting back and giving me my first glimpse into your apartment.

If only you knew how ecstatic I was to slip through the crack of your front door. My heart thumps excitedly, as I waste no time looking around. By the door sits a coat hanger with a few pairs of shoes around its feet.

“Should I take off my boots?” I ask.

“Yeah, actually. I’d appreciate it.”

I untie the laces and slip them off my feet. Then, just as I drop them by the coat hanger, you beckon me to follow.

Your apartment is a fair size, with one large space making up both the kitchen and the living room. Right of the front door, a short hallway leads us to a room. As you continue past the door, I slow myself and look to my left. Your hallway has a little louvred closet, and I can’t help but reach out and open it. There’s nothing exciting inside, only white bed sheets.

“The bathroom is over here.” I suddenly hear you say from within the bedroom. I close the closet and hurry along, hesitantly making my way into your room.

I examine the layout of your furniture: your bed is made, your dresser tucked away in the corner, your desk by the window, and your small bookcase right by its side. I take another look toward your window: It overlooks the front of the building, I think. I want to look around more, but I’ve already entered an uncomfortable silence through this simple observation… you’re bound to find it weird. Hell, you’re already finding it weird – my being here – if your reluctance to me using your bathroom is anything to go by.

“Thanks.” I tell you, nodding in your direction and scooting by to enter the bathroom. I peer over my shoulder, however, and take another peek into your bedroom before shutting the door.

In the bathroom, I made my way to the toilet and listened to your shuffling from the other side of the door. I lifted the seat without paying much attention, and stilled when I heard you leave the bedroom entirely. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to use it.

I waited a moment, lowered the toilet seat again, and didn’t bother flushing or washing my hands. The sound could set you off that I was finished, and I definitely wasn’t finished. I needed the opportunity to snoop just a tad bit more. I unlocked and creaked the bathroom door open, observing the quiet room with more attention than I had before.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I leave the door open. My head snaps in the direction of your bedroom door and I pleasantly find it shut from the rest of your apartment. You’re making this too easy. I make my way around quietly, being careful with my steps as I approach your nightstand with a familiar object glinting in the natural sunlight of the room: your phone, on its charger. When I press the button on its side, the logo appears as it powers on.

I take the time needed for the phone to boot up as an excuse to look about your room. The bookcase, which I had only glanced at before, takes shape infront of me. My hand drifts along the spines of the books… and I feel unsatisfied. You have a small selection of kitschy modern romance novels. My judging eyes shift to your dresser, the framed pictures sitting on top catching my attention. I don't recognize anyone, but a weird feeling washes over me. You’re not in any of these pictures. I feel a… disconnection… from the room. My eyes move elsewhere and I catch sight of a few unopened cardboard boxes against the wall near the bedroom door. They’re folded. Unused. I wonder briefly as I look back down to your phone. It’s open.

Unlocking it was easy, no password. You know, the good thing about an older cellphone model is how easy it is to just… get in. I flip your phone over and pop the back right off. I slide the chip out of my pocket and right into place. Once everything is back in its place, I unlock your phone and fully install the hardware. As much as I would like to start snooping about your phone now, I close it and set it back down on your nightstand. I make my way back into the bathroom, pulling my phone out all the while. I open the freshly installed app and bite at my lip as I see the device sync up. Done.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and make my way out of the bedroom. When I step back into your living room kitchen, you’re seated at the short island, your back to the small living room.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I say, making my way back to the front door. You swivel the chair as I walk by and watch me duck for my boots.

“Thanks for bringing me my phone. I was almost going to head out to Anavrin–”

“Oh, I don’t work Saturdays. You would’ve missed me entirely.” I say all matter-of-factly, like an asshole. You shrink.

“Noted.”

As I loop the laces around, I look up at you. Your brows knit together and you avert your eyes from me. I watch you for another moment, smiling to myself. You’re nervous.

“What’re all the boxes for?” I ask, looking around the apartment. They’re a little sprawled out everywhere, but most of them are still folded up. I chew my cheek as I wonder – are you packing up to leave already? You just got here not even a week ago. Is that what’s gotten you so nervous? Cause I caught you? I bite my tongue and choose to rephrase my thoughts. “Still unpacking?”

“No, It’s… complicated.” You respond.

I nod my head and stand. Your eyes fleet to me for a second before drawing away. Is it me, Y/N? Am I making you nervous?

“Thank you again, for my phone.” You mumble, drifting off somewhere. I smile wide, and huff. You’re not a threat. A pest, likely. But not a threat.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I’m out the door not a moment later, spinning my keys while on the way to my car.

—

Back at my apartment, I notice the door’s unlocked.

I'm cautious as I walk through the threshold, peering ahead only to notice Love behind the counter.

“Love, I didn’t expect you to break into my apartment.” I tease, taking off my boots and shedding my jacket.

“I thought you’d be home,” she whines. “Besides, it’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.”

I make my way into the kitchen, to her side, and slip my hands around her waist. She turns her head to look at me, a big smile on her face.

“Where were you?” She mumbles, still looking down at the counter.

“I went over to Y/N’s apartment,” I began, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “She forgot her phone in my car last night.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Mmh,” Love hums. “That was nice of you.”

I look over her shoulder, noticing the restaurant brochures infront of her.

“What were you doing here?”

“Looking for something to order. I don’t really want to cook again tonight.”

I lift my hands off her hips, placing them on either side of the counter. I press forward, and slide one of the menus into view.

“This one seems good.” I whisper, inconsiderate of what I’m pointing to. I’ve got one thing on my mind right now, and it isn’t the brochures.

Catching onto my carelessness, Love turns around and faces me. She tilts her head and observes my face for a moment before sliding her arms around my neck.

“How did it go?” Love suddenly inquires about us again.

“It went well,” I tell her, keeping it short. Still, she pries.

“Tell me more,”

“Well, she showed me to her bathroom,” I look around, as though I was recalling the few minutes I stood in your apartment. I’ll keep the snooping to myself. “Aaand, that’s about it.”

Love thins her lip. She’s pensive for a moment. She thinks, and I watch her grapple with her thoughts as she looks about the kitchen. She clears her throat before speaking.

“Will,” She starts, her hand taps my chest and I watch it circle around. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important, but… can you do me a huge favour?”

My hands find Love’s face, cupping her cheeks, and pressing her forehead to mine. My eyes search hers, and I pout.

“Anything for you,” I tell her. Anything.

“Forty has this thing tomorrow… I didn’t think ahead, and my plans are jumbled. But, this is really important.”

For a second, my stomach drops. I try not to let the horror show on my face as I’m convinced she’s about to glue me to Forty’s side for a day. But she continues.

“Y/N needs help clearing the apartment,” My eyes narrow, and I nod as I continue to listen. “You see… Will. It isn’t really my place to say this, but I thought you should know her mom passed away a few months ago. She’s been trying to sort through the estate, and they finally gave her the green light to clear out her old apartment. I can’t be there to help.”

Love’s hands slide over mine, cupping my fingers as I cup her cheeks.

“Are you free sometime tomorrow? Would you be able to help her out?”

With this revelation, the framed pictures sitting on the dresser make sense.

“I mean… yeah. I can do that.”

Love lights up at my response, hopping up for an intimate kiss. My hands fall to her ass, but she pulls away too soon. Always too soon.

“Thank you, Will,” She grins, tapping my chest again. “I’ll let her know.”

As Love pulls out her phone, I watch her tap away at the screen.

“You know, that entire complex looks unlivable. The place might have a rodent problem, too.” I say as she hits send.

“I know! I told her she could stay with me,” Love leans her head against my chest with a frustrated huff, slipping her phone onto the counter.

“You both already spend so many afternoons together,” I begin, sliding her head up to look at me. My fingers brush her cheek, and my next words come out hushed. “If she was around any more, I’d never have you to myself.”

Her eyes flutter as my hands brush baby hairs out of her face. I hum, and lean in for another kiss.

“Will,” she starts, pressing her palm into my chest. She pushes me back, and I let her. “I’m not in the mood right now. Is that alright?”

I purse my lips… a little agitated, but I understand. I’m in the mood, but I understand. She doesn’t want to have sex, she wants to talk about you.

“Of course, Love,” I kiss her cheek. “Some other time.”

With a smile, she returns her attention to those stupid brochures. I agree to whatever she wants, whatever she’s in the mood for. I always do.

Once dinner’s sorted, we pair it with a movie on my tv. We cuddle, and it’s nice. During an intimate scene, a quiet one with rustling bedsheets, Love decides to speak.

“I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N.” She says with a hum, rubbing her face into my chest. I grunt when her hand squeezes my knee. “She appreciates it too, I know it. She doesn’t know many people in the city anymore.”

I tear my eyes away from the sex on tv to look Love in the eyes.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have that thing with Forty. Someone seems a little forgetful tonight” I laugh and apologize, scolding myself. Of course… Tomorrow. I did forget. She turns her attention back to the movie. When I reluctantly return my own attention to the screen, I can’t help but scrutinise everything I see. Love seems pleased, watching the protagonist and her girlfriend lounge after what felt like the most drawn-out fucking I’d ever witnessed on tv. She’s probably thinking to herself: what a nice couple, happy, in love, and all tuckered out. But I feel differently. I see something I’m missing. We could be them, Love and I. But, instead of being wrapped in each other with more to do than to SAY, I think about the brick phone, I think about the lunch dates, I think about the selfishness of only reaching out when things became convenient, and I think about YOU. I think about the rust on your door, think about your dead mom, I think about how Love wants me to help you pack her things – like I’m some tool to be borrowed and Love’s the kind neighbour willing to lend – and I think about how Love touches you and I can’t help but wish I could crawl into your skin and rip you up from the inside.

The bell on your bag rings in my ears, jingling as you tap it over, and over again. Should I feel threatened by you? Because I do, even when everything about you proves to me you’re no threat at all. You’re meek, small, pathetic. Despite it all, you’ve stepped into my yard, trampled the very bushes I’ve trimmed and watered to perfection, and made yourself cozy against the love of my life. And, like a call to battle, the bell stirs something in me.

But you’re innocent, I cry in my head. You’re not Peach. You’re no evil mastermind, and stepping into someone else’s yard doesn’t mean much when you’re a helpless rabbit. Your mom is dead, you’re grieving. I think about you, in my car, curled in on yourself, skin exposed. Scared. I grit my teeth at the thought.

When Love departs, just after the movie ends, I spend some time catching up on your messages. That’s all I can really do, actually. With such an old model, your system doesn’t allow access to anything, anywhere, anytime. Just the text messages. I scroll to find your mention of me dropping by earlier.

‘Left my phone in Will’s car. He dropped it off.’

‘He’s the best <3’ Love responded.

About twenty minutes after that, Love let you know I’m replacing her tomorrow.

‘We can reschedule.’ You tried, but Love tells you the plans are already made. You can’t run from this. Neither can I.

I recline on my couch, huffing as I read as far as your messages go. I couldn’t get the older logs but anything you send from here on out, I have access to. When the late hours of the night finally catch up to me, I look out my window at the flickering street lights, and I head to bed.

[ranaissingle]

Whispers and Melodies (Pt. 2)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: She has heard a deep melodic voice speaking to her from a faraway place for decades. Anything from snippets of a longer conversation to roars that shook the very earth she walked on.

Rating: T (For now)

Word Count:

A/N: This story is shaping up to be over 10 chapters so I am trying to queue up some chapters to post with some kind of regularity lol. I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I have created a tag list so comment below if you would like to be tagged in upcoming parts!

★──────────★─────────★

Past (Sometime before Amaranths's Rule UTM)

Rhysand sat at his office in Velaris pouring over mountains of paperwork that he had allowed to pile up right before starfall. He’d spent the better part of 3 days working through the aftermath of the holiday, and he sat now at his desk, he wished he had some type of escape or distraction from the mountain of work that always seemed to follow him. 

A melodic breeze seemed to enter from the window as the trees and winds intermingled before filtering their way through the large windows. The breeze carried notes that came in quick succession and seemed to echo off of each other. The soft feminine voice almost caressed Rhysand's cheek and winded itself around him in a blanket of warmth. He hadn't realized how cold he was until that very moment. His back and arms slowly untensed themselves as he relaxed further into his chaise and as soon as Rhysand felt like he could finally go to sleep, the voice seemed to fade back out the window and only left Rhysand craving more. 

Page break and POV switch (Same time period)

Y/N sat out enjoying the weather amid the hot summer. She had laid out various fruits, bread, and spreads to snack on while she read and hummed away her evening basking in the sun. The wind carried a gentle breeze and various little creatures scurried their way across the grove. All at once, it seemed like the ambient noise around her had become muffled. As if someone had placed a pillow over her ears. Slowly, a voice from the outside seemed to filter through whatever was muffling her hearing. It was laughter. Booming laughter made some deep unknown emotion bubble up inside her. Something that made her heart ache most deliciously. A small smile crept upon her face as she looked out into the distance the first to find where the sound had been emitting from. Nothing but trees and willowing branches blew in the wind, not a soul in sight. The laughter slowly fizzled out as if the sound was creeping back into the forest from whence it came. The retreat left her feeling cold as if a winter breeze had made its way to her from the winter court. 

Rhysand slowly pulled open the door to the room he had been occupying and stepped outside the threshold of the door. As the hinges creaked, the woman’s chopping ceased as she placed her knife on the cutting board before wiping her hands on her apron and turning around. Rhysand strengthened his stance even as the muscles of his thighs burned with the strain. 

“Who are you and how did I get here.” Rhysand’s voice came out firmer than he had thought himself capable of. The woman narrowed her eyes at him and cocked her head to the side.  

“I found you passed out on the beach. You are quite lucky the tides did not pull you into the depths before.” 

Her lips quirked up at the idea as if she was thinking about that very outcome. Rhysand squared his shoulders and steeled himself further. He couldn't be sure that this woman did not have evil intentions. If there was anything he had learned in his 500 years of life, it was that he should never underestimate an opponent just because they were a female. 

“Why would you help me then? Is there something you want in return?” 

Rhysand was grateful enough for the help that she had provided that he was willing to give her something in return. The female rested all of her weight on one leg as she turned her eyes up to the roof and began to contemplate what she would want. She was likely going to ask for a pile of gold or a new cottage of some sort. She looked like she had run through a million possible answers to his question when all at once her eyes widened and her posture stiffened as she blurted out; 

“Waterdrake scales! Could you get me water Waterdrake scales? A lot of them?” 

POV Switch To Y/N

Why did his voice sound so familiar? She swore she’d heard it before but couldn't

Y/n’s hand tightened on the side of the counter that she had been gripping with all of the mother’s strength. What ingredient could possibly stabilize the potion she was working on? She had tried every single combination of Honey possible but it always reduced the potency by some amount. She needed it to be as potent as possible in order to ensure its effectiveness. Firedrake scales were known to increase the shelf life of a potion, but that wasn’t exactly what she needed. She needed something to make sure that the reaction between the crawfish shell and fennel root did not take place and that their effects were enacted on the patient independently of their effects on one another. Could dragon bone work? No, that would just react with the fennel root and make the whole mixture useless. But waterdrake scales? Yes, those could work; it would keep the potion cool enough to prevent reaction while also having a cooling effect on the body when administered which would help with the fevers that often accompany blood loss. Yes, this was perfect! Before she could get any sort of reign on her excitement. 

Y/n blurted out, “Water drake scales! Could you get me waterdrake scales? A lot of them?”

POV Switch to Rhysand 

This female had gone insane. Water Drake scales were the rarest type of scales. Asking for them was equivalent to asking for something more valuable than the cauldron itself. Never mind that he was sure Velaris did indeed have Warwe drake scales, what could this female possibly need water Drake scales for? Rhysand lets his lips quirk up on one side as he takes in the female. 

“What would a spritely female like you need with water drake scales and how are you so sure that I could be the one to provide them for you?” Rhysnad crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. 

Y/n rolled her eyes while she looked him up and down. “You carry yourself in a manner that befits whatever rank you possess.” She takes a deep breath before continuing,”I have seen a great many males like you, they traipse around as if they own the land they walk on, they trample over the plants and never leave a place the same as when they found it. Your kind is the reason our world will never have any semblance of peace for more than the time it takes to heave a breath.” 

“Oh? You have come to this conclusion after knowing me for all of 10 minutes have you?” 

“Not quite I think. You seem to be less…? Just less I suppose. I can’t exactly put my finger on it but you do not suck the air out of a room the way your brethren tend to. I’ve come to conclusions about your brethren, not necessarily you, it seems.” 

Although Rhysand still did not look pleased, he had already decided to acquiesce to her demands as soon as she had spoken it. He was grateful, after all, for her help in his recovery.  But, he was not going to fetch the scales by himself. If she wanted to get her hands on those scales she would have to contribute to the journey. 

“Alright, if you want the scales you shall have them. However, I am not going on this journey for the impossible by myself. I know where to find them so we can get started whenever you are ready. 

She smiles slightly before speaking. “I think that our journey might have to be held off a couple of days at least.”

Rhysand took the bait. “What, not up for the challenge?”

“No, I’m up for the challenge. You, however, are not.” The smirk on her face was undeniable and Rhysand felt a laugh make its way up his throat. The female was right he was not up to any kind of journey where he would be forced to sleep on the cold hard earth and eat whatever gruel he could salvage. All at once he felt the exhaustion flood him as his body realized he would not be traveling anytime soon. 

She seemed to notice this and anticipated Rhysand’s legs giving out under him before he realized he was getting closer and closer to the polished wood of the floor. She skillfully wrapped her arms around his torso and slowly lowered him to the ground. 

“We need to get you to bed. I already made breakfast so I’ll bring some to you as soon as you’re tucked in. 

Rhysand chuckled, “I’m not a child, gods, you’re more demanding than my brothers.” She cocked her hips to the side before placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. Rhysands smile never left his face as he raised his palms in defeat and raised himself to his knees before turning on his heel and entering the room he had previously come out of. As the door clicked shut behind him, Rhysand stood in the middle of the cozy room. He hadn’t smiled in 50 years. The muscles felt strangely tight from lack of use. He knew he had to get back to Velaris as soon as possible; his family was probably wondering where he was. But, despite his best efforts he couldn't bring himself to winnow home. It was quite peaceful in this little cottage by the sea. Rhysand eventually sat on the bed and leaned back on his arms as he stared out of the large window across from the bed. It seems Amaranths's reign managed to evade this section of the fae kingdoms. 

Y/N rapped on the door 3 times before opening the door and walking inside. Rhysand smelt a fragrant aroma of ripened fruits and something else warm and minty. She walked up to the small wooden table next to the bed and placed a tray on it. 

“I’ve made you a fruit salad, bread and herbs, and tea. I would make you something more hearty but, considering how malnourished you were upon your arrival, I feel it’s best to start you off on some simpler foods.” Rhysand looked up at her, “Thank you for the meal.” She tilted her head to the side slightly and smiled. “Could I check your temperature?” She raised her hand up towards his forehead but kept her hand from actually touching him. He took the time to look up at her from where he sat on the bed. He nodded his head and waited as she brought the back of her hand to his forehead and placed her hand on her forehead as well. 

“You’re temperature is slightly above what is normal..” The frown on her face deepened as the gears in her mind began formulating some combination of herbs and elixirs to lower the fever. Rhysand kept his gaze on her as she started counting on one hand and mumbling soft indescribable words. Her eyes flicked down to his and she said,“ I’ll have to give you some ginger and chamomile to help lower your fever. ” Her touch felt cool on his warm forehead when he swore he felt his temperature lower a fraction. She then slowly brought her hands down to his neck before looking at him to ask for permission once more. Again, he slowly nodded his head and she pressed one of her delicate fingers against his skin. She removed her finger quickly and kept her gaze on that section of her neck. “It appears as if you are also dehydrated.” 

Her voice trailed off as she continued moving his head slightly. Curiosity overwhelmed him so Rhysand asked, “ You could have done all these tests while I was asleep, could you not?”. She smiled slightly at him as she removed her hands from his cheek and neck and placed them back in her lap. “I don’t think you would have wanted that.” Her gaze settled on him in a way that made shivers run up his already sore spine. Rhysand answered with his own poor excuse of a smirk.

“Eat up, I will start preparing the provisions for our journey and bring you some more water”. She turned to the door and softly clicked it shut behind her. 

Y/N did not expect that being so close to the man would have made her heart beat so fast. The hair on her arms stood up as she attempted to take deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She needed to get started on the preparation as well as figure out the dilemma of how she was going to replicate the properties of water drake scales without having to put them in every single batch of her remedy.  

Rhysand relaxed back into the bed cradling him and felt the tension in his muscles trickle out and gather underneath him in a pool of warmth. They wouldn't be going on a journey, he was sure Majda had some water drake scales stocked up and he planned to winnow them into Velaris as soon as he was better. But she didn't need to know that yet. He quite liked the tranquility of the little cottage on the sea and intended to stay here as long as she would permit him to. Funnily enough, he didn't care to go back home.

★──────────★─────────★

A/N: this had too many POV switches for my taste so I won't be doing that again lol I know it's been a while since I posted but I am trying to get back into the groove of things haha

TAGLIST: @nebarious

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:�� religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise) this chapter specifically mentions suicide.

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  3 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: Rafayel’s confessions about his past mirror the turmoil you're trying to hide.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head. Pale and sculpted, so beautiful - it almost left you numb. The way your name sounded when it passed his lips. 

So you needed a distraction. After the festival, you walked back to Talias and into the garage and demanded that Rafayel hang out with you. 

Now, the two of you sat together on the lake dock. A beer was nestled between the cleft of your thighs. The night around you came alive as the golden orange sky faded to a deep lavender of early evening. It was serene, as so many days from long gone used to be. The moon above was just starting to peak around the tops of the trees. 

The tension in your body eased into the small space of solitude as Rafayel sat back, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. 

“It’s good that you still try, you know.” He chuckled and brought his bottle to his lips. “To be normal.” 

You shrugged a bit, titling your beer as you watched the water, the shimmering waves a flickering beacon. “It doesn’t feel that way sometimes. To feel or think normal, I mean.” 

Rafayel said nothing, reaching inside the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a joint, bringing it to his lips and lighting it with a practiced motion. He took a hit and passed it to you. Gladly accepting, you inhaled deeply. The burn crept through your system with lightning speed, and your body immediately felt lighter. 

“Coming home should help ease some of the chaos in my mind.” You admitted with a laugh, one that didn’t quite hide the pain as you shook your head. “I don’t feel normal, I’m not working, Dad is working all the time…Everything is just…like…”

Wind gushed through the trees above, leaves dancing like wind chimes with gentle voices. This area was once an escape, but you wondered how much longer you would feel that nostalgia. 

“I tried to kill myself.” Rafayel blurted out. Blunt. Awkward, tense silence filled the space between you both until the moment passed and realization flooded you. If you had sipped your beer, it would have been spat everywhere. Your neck could have snapped in half if you swung it around further when you looked back at him. 

“What - oh my God.” Your shock doubled. “Like, recently?” 

Rafayels smile was soft as he looked out toward the lake, taking another hit of the joint and exhaling slowly. “More than a year ago.” He glanced up at the sky briefly before continuing. “I was in Paris, surrounded by all these gorgeous people with those blue Parisian veins and expensive fragrances. At first, I was in New York, and I thought I belonged there until I started to feel insignificant. So I took all my money and got a one-way ticket for as far away as possible.” 

“For your art? Or -”

“Not exactly.” Rafayel said, “I was a mess. Dad will never get out of the Navy, and Mom was set on moving to Canada after the divorce, so I went somewhere with more people, you know?” 

“And you still felt alone, so you went to Paris?” You asked. 

“Pretty much. I met this guy in Paris, Jean.” He paused, his eyes narrowing towards the water as if he were scrutinizing it or the memory of the name he brought up. “We were a toxic pair. Took whatever we could get our hands on and a bunch of other shit.” 

Rafayel smirked and turned towards you, pointing a finger from the hand still holding the joint. “You wouldn’t have recognized me. Black suits, slick shoes. Sometimes, leopard skin shirts. Some real crazy styles to go with a real major fuckboy lifestyle.” 

You snorted at the thought, and he glared at you, albeit playfully, as you quickly said. “Never, Raf. I would never have thought that.” 

Rafayel waved his hand as if dismissing your notion outright. “Really! I partied, got high, made sure I screwed just one more person so maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a piece of trash. All the while, here I was, painting and drawing. Filling notebooks and pouring everything else of myself into the canvas - only for none of it to matter. All this talent and emotion it took to create something - the only person ever appreciative was Jean.” 

“So what happened?” You asked, and your question seemed to give Rafayel pause.

He snubbed the joint out carefully. Then, he began to roll up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing deep, angry-looking scars on his wrist. They ran along the outside of his forearm, criss-crossed. Large and white and almost ugly. When you heard his voice again, it was whispered. “We, uh, we broke up. I kind of lost it.” 

“Oh no…” the words slipped out as you ran your fingertips over his arm. Not grasping or pulling but tracing the lines over his skin. “Raf, I’m so sorry…” 

Rafayel gave you a dry, almost sardonic snort. “Yeah, yeah. I know, sweetheart.” He took his arm back and worked on rolling his sleeve back down. “Got thrown into a psych ward for a few weeks. Therapy, drugs, the whole lot.” 

“What did your parents do when they found out? Bring you back home?”

“Yeah, they figured the woman who helped raise me could at least help straighten me out,” Rafayel said, giving you an almost resigned smile - melancholic. “Aunt Talia keeps trying to get me to go to church and talk to Father Sylus. Saying God can help me get through this.” 

Father Sylus. You frowned as your thoughts became filled with him again. Father Sylus, with fiery red eyes and soft lips, probably had a huge…heart. You looked over at your friend as he continued, brushing some hair out of your face as you tried not to sigh outwardly. 

“But I couldn’t go - I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him because-” he stopped abruptly, hand going to his mouth as he tried to calm a sudden laughing fit. When his composure returned, he looked at you again. “I can’t go because - the man is hot.” 

“What - no! He’s not!” You gasped, torn between offended and thrilled at the flicker of something intense that you felt. A strange jealousy, the kind that curled your stomach and made your cheeks heat rose from within you. And that couldn’t be right. 

“Um, yes, he is.” Rafayel countered, “He is literally sculpted by the hands of the almighty above himself.” 

Laughing a little, you shook your head as you rolled the neck of your beer between your fingers, contemplating your following words. “I - I can’t believe you think a Catholic priest is attractive.”

Who are you trying to kid? 

“It’s the ass. Always the ass.” Rafayel insisted, his voice almost dreamy as he continued to look at you with a straight face. 

You couldn’t help it. Despite the heaviness still hanging around your friend's prior revelation, you erupted into laughter, leaning over to hold your stomach. You suddenly felt light and truly liberated, but you quickly sought to pull yourself back to reality, looking back at Rafayel. 

“I’m sorry you went through all of that, Raf.” You told him, your tone dropping. “But I’m glad you told me.” 

Rafayel groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead and tilting it back. “Talia is going to kill me! Nobody was supposed to know.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him immediately, sitting up straighter. “Look, your secrets are sealed, okay? You know me.” 

Rafayel looked like he was struggling to suppress a small smile. “Thanks.” His eyes looked as if he remembered something happy, maybe all the times you both snuck out of school and came down to this lake. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/N, even if I can’t put my finger on what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

You returned home late, shutting the door quietly behind you so as not to disturb the house. In the silence, it reminded you of a time capsule or a painting in a gallery. Everything was displayed perfectly, frozen—perfect, static, as if unable to grow or change. 

When you first came home, your father welcomed you back as if you had never left; inside, this house seemed even fuller than it had when your mother was alive, stuffed with memories—every article placed or hung or draped across surfaces just as she had originally laid them out. 

You went upstairs, turning on the dimmer light to see your bed and the objects in the room. You started by bending your knees to remove your jeans, which made a muffled patter when they landed on the carpet. 

“Just need to sleep.” You whispered to yourself, but the hair on your arms stood upright. Something heavy was weighing on the surface of your skin. Something that felt a lot like… guilt. 

Flopping onto the bed, you unlocked your phone. The missed call from Zayne was still at the top of the list. Something in you faltered. A surge of loneliness and desire that clouded your brain. 

To open that door of temptation that called for him like a beacon. It was an insistent tug, gnawing into your reality. 

You pressed the call button. 

His groggy voice's immediate answer relaxed the coil inside you just a little bit. 

“H-Hey,” you whispered. “Did I wake you?” 

You heard him sniff, a slight shift, and a soft hum. “No. I’m at the hospital tonight.” 

You swallowed, a tingle of fear rushing through your nerves when you sat up. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought—” You silenced yourself and tried to release a trembling breath. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping your phone even tighter. 

You tried to calm your unease for another few seconds. Eventually, Zayne's voice melted through the receiver, breaking the silence. “Is everything okay?”  

No. Nothing was. The thought of things ever being okay gave you the overwhelming urge to break down crying on the edge of your bed. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have called.” You said, swallowing down the tightening in your throat, ready to hang up before the room started spinning. 

“Y/N, don’t apologize,” he was talking to you; you could hear it. Maybe it was his tired voice that sounded so welcoming and soft, or that someone was showing you an ounce of attention and familiarity. It was a call to an anchor in the storm. 

“Can…can you just talk to me, please?” You gripped the sheets. 

There was a sigh, and then, after a long second, his voice filled your ears once more, echoing deep, “About what?” 

“Something.” 

There was more silence, and his tone was hesitant when he inquired, “Something specific?” 

Trying to soothe your nerves by smoothing your hair, you forced yourself to say, “Tell me why you did it?” 

“Did…what?”

Looking down at your legs, you bit back the anger at the doctor on the other end of the line by pinching your thigh. The sting helped you bite back any trace of bitterness as you spoke, “Cheat on your wife with me. How the fuck did that happen?”

He laughed, a half-amused noise. “What’s wrong? Was your visit to Sunday school unsatisfying?” 

“Zayne.” You whined, feeling anxiety thrum in your chest, “This is serious!” 

Another chuckle, this one almost fond but with an edge of self-deprecation. If it hadn’t been for the occasional hum of the hospital in the background, you could have sworn he was in front of you. His voice was so smooth, and the tone was kind and husky for sleep or lack thereof. 

“I…let myself lose control.” He explained, “My judgment was clouded. And I told you upfront I was married, remember? Those first couple times we saw each other.” 

There was pain, awful, almost stabbing within your chest. You closed your eyes and slumped forward, your head nearly between your knees. “I know.” Your voice was strained. “I know, but I didn’t care. I pretended not to.”

“Well, you deserve better than that, obviously.” He joked, but it sounded playful. Almost teasing. The sound of keys in the background clinked together, the squeak of metal on metal. You wondered what part of the hospital he was off to, probably the cafeteria for coffee. 

“Still,” you leaned further over, eyes closed and breathing slow. “I love you.” 

You could picture his hazel eyes whirling with internal conflict, the tic in his cheek giving away to nervousness. And the thought made the butterflies in your stomach fester. After another bout of silence, broken only by subtle rustling of movement in the background, his voice settled around you. 

“I have to go. I can’t-” he took a breath. “I need to focus right now.” 

There was that awful, aching pain again. One that the hum of the call barely obscured. You swallowed. “Okay. Fine.” 

“Alright.”

“Bye.” You waited, and a soft noise was his response. Was it a chuckle? A groan, an exclamation of pain? It was hard to tell as the call ended, and you slumped face-first into the pillow beside you. 

You cried, desperate and shaking, clinging to the comforter until your hands were sore. Tears slowed as exhaustion crept up, and you fell asleep alone. 

He was a man of faith, an agent of God who set out every morning ready to take on his assigned duties with honor and integrity, and - unfortunately, now he was struggling at the worst possible time. 

Sunlight pierced the thin windows of the rectory, and Sylus stirred in his too-short bed, his feet hanging awkwardly off the end. Sylus stretched and squinted against the unforgiving light. He had been dreaming, he thought, something pleasant? What had it been… 

Sylus tried to remember.

There she was again, in his dreams – mouth gently open, his name on her full lips, her thighs…

Father Sylus gritted his teeth, reminding himself that dreams were not in his control. It was natural to fantasize, and it needn’t define him. He was a man of God.

And this man of God had woken with a nearly painful erection. 

Sylus groaned. He would shower, he thought. The water would relax him, and he could move on with his day, leaving these unwelcome thoughts in the ephemera of his dreams.

Rising from the bed, he stepped across the small room and paused in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. 

Was this how she saw Sylus? How she could see him?

His silver hair was messy, falling in his face. His t-shirt was rumpled, the thin fabric clinging to his admittedly well-conditioned chest. His boxers…

No, she would never see him like this, Sylus reminded himself grimly. Those thoughts were disordered. 

As he turned from the mirror, his gaze landed on the portrait of Saint Augustine that hung on the opposite wall. The portrait depicted the bishop in his later years, with a face lined with wisdom and eyes shining with spiritual conviction. It reminded him of the life Sylus had committed himself to, the higher purpose he served. He tore his gaze away from the painting. 

The woman was a child of God, made in His image. She was more than her body. If Father Sylus felt drawn to her, it must be in a paternal sense. He must focus on her personhood – she had seemed to be doing poorly earlier. Maybe there was some way he could help or guide her to be closer to God.

He sighed. For now, he would focus on the day ahead, taking it one step at a time.

The rectory shower was old. It creaked somewhere deep in the pipes as warm water began to spray from a lime-caked showerhead.

Father Sylus entered the shower and began quickly and efficiently cleaning himself. He admittedly succumbed to minor indulgences like fine soap and hair care products, but he didn’t feel that it was a block to his devotion. It wasn’t vanity per se, more an appreciation of the finer things in God’s creation.

But as Sylus lathered soap on his skin, his erection stayed.

It was maddening. Sylus had to clean himself but… but it felt too good. 

Images of the woman flashed through his mind again. Oh, the things they had done in his dreams… 

His hand began to slide along his shaft, and Sylus grimaced. 

This was wrong, he thought. This was all so very wrong.

Yet as his hand gripped and pulled at him, sliding and squeezing and…

And wasn’t this better than sinning in person? Wasn’t it the lesser of two evils?

Sylus stifled a moan and braced against the shower wall. 

This was just a foible of the human body, he rationalized. He just needed to exorcise this irritating lust from his body. 

He found a punishing rhythm and thought of her, beating his lust into submission.

Then it happened, and for a moment, he felt ecstasy.

Immediately following that, however, he only felt empty. Empty and alone in a too-small shower in a too-small room and destined for a too-small bed.

Father Sylus resolved to pray. 

Tag list: @celestialforce

[ladykailitha]

Howlin' for Yule

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The next one on our list is: Werewolf verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

Do you know how ridiculously proud I am of that title? Do you? Because I am so damn proud of that title. Also welcome to the one that got away from me. I could have kept it short. They dance, they schmooze, and they go home.

But I wanted to write more with this one and when I realized if I wanted this to end on the 24th, I should have started on the 13th, instead of the 12th, I figured I could extend this and post it Christmas Eve.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9

~

Eddie stood in front of a mirror and fussed with his tie. He usually got a chuckle from seeing his reflection in a mirror because according to Wayne that one only became a myth recently with them no longer using silver to back them anymore. But not even that thought could bring a smile to his face.

Because he had to look super nice for his boyfriend’s big Yule Tide ‘do up at the new vampire coven’s place. After the Creel house had almost burnt down when Jason attacked, Chrissy thought it would be better to move the coven somewhere safer. Closer to civilization so that if that happened again, they could get help faster.

They had bought a beautiful mansion in Loch Nora that was able to house all the remaining members of the coven comfortably. It even had a large room just for balls. Which is what this most certainly was.

When Chrissy suggested it back in October, she had merely suggested party including the vampires and werewolves as a way to foster peace between them. But Steve, the beautiful big brained and even bigger hearted had suggested a Yule Ball for all the supernatural beings in Hawkins.

So that meant that all Eddie’s friends were going to be there and he had to look nice.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Wayne groused from behind him. “Probably your own judging from the sour expression on his face.

Eddie whirled around in shock. Wayne was standing there in early 18th century clothes in golds and browns. He looked amazing. “Why can’t I look like that?!”

Wayne looked down at his attire and then back up. “Would you like to?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I mean we really don’t have much time to make me something like that.” He waved at Wayne’s outfit. “Because I don’t think your clothes will fit me very well.”

Wayne chuckled. “Oh ye of little faith. You take that monkey suit off, and I’ll play fairy goduncle. Go on.”

Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow but did as he was told. He hadn’t been gone two scant minutes when he came back and all the clothes were laid out on his bed. Silks, velvet, and lace all in black. He would cut a dashing figure for sure.

He hurried to get dressed and then rushed out to the front to the kitchen and poured out a bowl of milk, placing it on the windowsill.

Wayne chuckled from the living room. “She owed me a favor, but I’m sure she will appreciate the treat anyway.”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s just good manners.”

Wayne nodded solemnly. He had raised this boy right. Not just in the ways of the supernatural, but in the ways of being a good human, too.

Then the sound of horses arriving, clattered outside their window and they both exited the trailer to see an elegant coach and four black horses.

“Your boy sure has a flare for the dramatic,” Wayne huffed as he was helped into the carriage by an actual footman. Something that Wayne had never experienced in his long life.

Eddie could only agree. In the last light of the shortest day of the year, the driver and footman seemed to glimmer as though they had a glamour placed over them to look vaguely human.

They pulled up to the coven’s new home and Eddie let out a wolf whistle. “The new Dominus seems to have her own flare for the dramatic.”

“Nah,” Wayne said as he exited the carriage, “that just comes from being a vampire.”

They were shown into what Eddie could only call a ballroom. It was massive. It was currently setup with long mahogany tables with little nameplates in front of every placement. The eating utensils were gold, the glasses were crystal, and plates were fine china.

It screamed opulence and once Eddie would have turned tail and ran. But not anymore. Being a vampire changed that, for sure, but what really cinched the deal was the man, standing next to the Dominus in a beautiful red and gold outfit similar to what Wayne and Eddie were wearing.

Steve Harrington, Roane Pack Alpha.

~

Day 11 Day 12

NOW WITH PART TWO!

I could have waited until the 23rd to post this one, but there was something symbolic about posting it on the day of the winter solstice. The longest night.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[brucebocchi]

Ranking 2024 anime, Pt. 2: #40-31

hey, this post is also available on my ko-fi, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as i do this for free and am currently between jobs. you can find part 1 of the list here. thanks!

Alright, on we go to the list proper. The first post was probably whiplash-inducing, going from a bunch of shorter stuff I loved to whole seasons I hated, but we can only go up from here. I watched a lot of anime this year, as the numbers indicate, so there's a little positivity to be found even in the lower rankings.

As always, OPs are linked in the series titles. Watch them, they're almost all great.

40. Metallic Rouge

One of the biggest disappointments of the year, one which I didn’t think could be outdone (and I’ll get to that one shortly). Metallic Rouge had so much going for it as a Studio Bones original for its anniversary, and managed to fumble all of its promise and goodwill in slow, agonizing fashion. 

It’s a shame, too. Metallic Rouge still looks awesome; the character and mech designs are excellent, the space-cyberpunk aesthetic is undeniable, and the animation can be terrific when it counts. The story, on the other hand, is so completely asinine that I was sick of this show before it ended. I’ve mostly forgotten what even happens, partly because it was that infuriating to keep up with, and partly because I feel like the writers forgot too; the bulk of any actual story felt backloaded into the last two or three episodes because they focused too hard on vibes for a while. I think they were trying to go for some “G-Witch by way of Detroit: Become Human” something or other, but all of it rang hollow. I’m still not sure whether it needed more runtime or better writers. Probably both.

Not worth your time. Just watch the OP and imagine a better show than what we got.

39. Mysterious Disappearances

I’ve thought so little about this show since it went off the air that I don’t really have anything new to say. Looks pretty lousy most of the time, not that interesting, oddly horny, and the plot structure gets kind of cloying after a while.

I know I harped on that last point when I reviewed it at the end of the spring season, but something funny happened after I did. Back in July, I mentioned that I took issue with the formula of “we encounter a paranormal anomaly, it’s identified as a yokai or urban legend, we learn its tragic backstory, our protagonists give it closure, and we move on” because it felt manipulative after I realized that it happened with every arc, and then I went ahead and read DanDaDan, which basically does exactly the same thing but a hell of a lot better. Comparing a middling work like this to DanDaDan of all things feels unfair, but they cover pretty similar ground. Maybe it’s sharper writing, or maybe it’s just a more engaging work. Who’s to say?

I’d also said in my review that Mysterious Disappearances unintentionally gives off the vibe of a poorly-archived mid-2000s series, but I hadn’t realized just how right I was: It turns out that studio Zero-G just went ahead and made up its own ending even though the source material is still ongoing. Better shows did the same this year, but the studio and I seem to have the same level of faith that this anime’s ever coming back.

38. My Deer Friend Nokotan

Honestly? Fuck this show.

I’ve already gone into what I did and didn’t like about Nokotan after it went off air a few months ago and I don’t care to revisit that while it’s still relatively fresh. Not nearly as funny as it pretended to be, yet still not even confident in its own sense of humor. The OP's still a bop (calling it "Shikairo Days" was a genuinely great joke), and a small handful of gags do land, but not enough to prevent this from being a massive disappointment.  At the same time, Nokotan was still somehow not the biggest letdown of the year.

37. Uzumaki

This was the biggest letdown of the year.

When an anime adaptation of the legendary Junji Ito horror manga was first announced in 2019, it was hard not to get excited. Even when I’d mostly fallen out of anime fandom, I knew damn well who Junji Ito was and I knew Uzumaki. Adult Swim was funding the project, a prestige studio in Production I.G. was handling the animation, and they even nabbed Hereditary composer Colin Stetson for the score. Ito’s manga is famously very difficult to adapt well, and it looked like we finally had a project being taken seriously. Delays and radio silence in the ensuing years were disappointing, but I was willing to be patient if it meant everything was being handled right. When the trailer dropped this summer, it looked like it would be worth the wait.

And for one glorious episode, it seemed like everyone’s patience paid off. Uzumaki’s debut episode was one of the most visually arresting pieces of animation I’ve ever seen: The entire look and feel was faithful to Ito’s inimitable style, from the meticulously detailed linework to the stark black-and-white color grading of his manga’s pages. On top of that, the animation itself was absurdly good; the process of rotoscoping 3D motion capture seemed arduous, but the end result was beautifully lifelike for a story where that quality could only serve to instill further terror. Several of the most iconic images from the early chapters looked incredible in hi-def motion. Sure, the pacing was a little fast, but this was a four-episode miniseries. We could deal. This was just too good.

And then came the second episode.

I’m not going to over-elaborate or relitigate every single thing that went wrong here, because it’s a lot. Uzumaki was in development for a long time, and that five year gap between announcement and release included several detriments to the production process, not the least of which being COVID, animation production changing hands between several studios, and new leadership for Adult Swim’s parent company that now favors profit over product, especially when it comes to animation that doesn’t involve DC characters. Plenty of us figured that all of these delays and a run of only four episodes meant that they had the time to hammer out all the issues and give us the best possible product. That, unfortunately, was not the case.

Responding to complaints about the decline in animation in the second episode, executive producer Jason DeMarco (who, to be blunt, has overseen several mediocre-to-awful anime products released under the Adult Swim brand, including my bottom-ranked anime of 2023) claimed in a quickly-deleted Bluesky thread that there is indeed a higher-up to blame and that they were left with an ultimatum to either drop Uzumaki after just one episode, let it go the way of so many other Warner Bros non-releases under David Zaslav’s disastrous leadership, or release the whole miniseries in its half-baked state. They went with the third.

So, what we got was an uneven, often sloppy work; another mediocrity to throw on the pile of failed Junji Ito adaptations. All goodwill established in the first episode is soon undone by wonky character models, uncanny walk cycles, and movement that looks like PNGs being dragged across a background at the most inopportune times. Plenty of viewers, myself included, were willing to overlook the accelerated pacing after the first episode, but that issue was thrown into stark relief by the second when entire chapters of the manga began playing out simultaneously, and one was even reduced to an afterthought for a cheap “scare” at the end of episode three. 

Not that I thought Uzumaki necessarily needed a full 12-episode season for a proper adaptation or anything; Ito’s output can often be light on story, and dragging it out too far risks losing interest. What makes Ito’s stories actually work, though, is a proper sense of setting and space to let tensions rise. That didn’t entirely happen here; while the atmosphere of Kurozu-cho does plenty resemble what we’ve seen from Ito’s pages, and Stetson’s atonal saxophone does a lot of work to raise the level of unease, things just kind of happen. Few things really get the chance to land as intended, in part due to the production quality cheaping out at climactic moments.

This was the last anime I finished this year even though I’d watched the first two episodes after they aired and it went off the air in October. I was looking forward to the last two episodes that little. There are still bits and pieces of great animation and faithful adaptation here and there, but not enough to regain any goodwill from the second episode’s wheels visibly falling off. Maybe it’s finally time to declare Junji Ito’s works unadaptable once and for all. 

Definitely watch that first episode, though. At this point I kind of wish that’s all we’d gotten.

36. Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

Straitlaced Nice Guy moves to a new town, laid-back gyaru from his class immediately takes a liking to him, a couple other girls enter the picture, shenanigans ensue, and a slow-burn romance begins in parallel. Nothing special on paper and nothing much more special than that in execution. The setting is lovely, though, and it really made me want to visit Hokkaido one day. Nicely done, tourism board.

If you watched this and were put off by it, I don’t blame you; I probably would’ve been too if I hadn’t decided to read ahead in the manga. I will say this, though: If you liked Hokkaido Gals even a little, read the manga. It’s a minor investment, but if you can get over the halfway mark, it gets surprisingly good and has a really lovely ending. 

The anime, on the other hand? Meh. Doesn’t look super great and didn’t have enough time in 12 episodes to overcome most of the issues the source material had to move past to get to what made it worthwhile. It would take another season or two to get there, and that probably isn’t gonna happen. Great OP, though (I'm starting to repeat myself, I know). Just read the manga.

35. No Longer Allowed in Another World

Boasting one of the most audacious premises for an isekai I’ve ever seen, No Longer Allowed in Another World doesn’t shy away from the implications of an Osamu Dazai isekai, has the dark humor to match, and provides some fascinating commentary on the type of person who tends to consume wish-fulfillment isekai. Unfortunately, the presentation was a little lacking and threatened to lose my attention several times. I think the idea is much better on paper, to the point where I might test that theory and go read the manga.

34. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

The next dozen or so anime in the rankings fall into a category of either “well-made anime that I found kind of frustrating” or “middling anime that I kind of enjoyed.” The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic is very much the latter. It’s a standard isekai on paper; demon king, special powers, what have you, but it has a likable cast and laid-back vibe for much of its runtime that made it pleasant enough to watch.

As I said after the winter season, I really liked that Wrong Way spends a lot of its early story ensuring that the protagonist expends the time and effort necessary for him to become the hero he’s meant to be instead of the narrative just handing it to him from the start, which instantly sets it apart from most other wish-fulfillment isekai. It’s far from the best-looking anime I watched this year, but it has a mid-00s throwback look and feel to it that works more to its benefit than in Mysterious Disappearances. Nothing groundbreaking and a little too backloaded, but an enjoyable enough experience and one I’m looking forward to seeing come back. 

The only really upsetting thing about this show is that Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi, Bayonetta, Kainé), who was tremendous as the intimidating Captain Rose, is no longer with us. She was an exceptional talent with an iconic voice who will be sorely missed, and future seasons of this show won’t be the same without her.

33. Go! Go! Loser Ranger

Though not a bad anime by most metrics, I still consider Loser Ranger a minor disappointment. It mostly looks great, and “what if The Boys was a sentai series” is a killer premise, but the story so far is extremely frontloaded. Almost too much happens in the first four episodes, and then the bulk of the last arc of the season takes place in a goddamn parking garage. I’m still annoyed by that. Still looking forward to season 2, but I wish the debut season had been 24 episodes to avoid the sour taste in my mouth.

Did you hear that echo? Yep, that's me telling you to watch yet another OP. Easily the best part of the show and one of the best of the year. Tatsuya Kitani can't keep getting away with it.

32. Astro Note

2024 turned out to be a banner year for Rumiko Takahashi’s older works making their way back to modern screens, and one of those entries wasn’t even hers.

Astro Note is an overt homage to Takahashi’s less-famous romcom Maison Ikkoku, which ran parallel to Urusei Yatsura for most of the latter’s run. Like Ikkoku, Astro Note follows a down-on-his-luck young man living in a boarding house full of bizarre miscreants who only stays because the manager is super pretty. Unlike Ikkoku, and unbeknownst to our protagonist, said manager is actually an alien who is practically turning the house over to find a secret alien MacGuffin.

This show looks lovely and has a delightful cast and some surprisingly moving subplots, but it’s nothing too special otherwise. There are some fun creative flourishes here and there, like the alien stuff shown in flashback being made to look like an older space opera anime, but aside from a very fun turn near the end of the season, Astro Note rarely rises above the level of simply “pleasant.” And that’s fine, but it doesn’t quite live up to the material it’s aping, and what we’ve ended up with is just a nice distraction. 

I’m so glad I finally decided to read Maison Ikkoku though.

31. Shangri-La Frontier, second cour

It’s been a running joke for me that the more I watch Shangri-La Frontier, the less I’m sure whether I like it or not, and now with 25 episodes in the tank, I’m less sure than ever. The back half of the debut season improved on a few of the things that annoyed me about its first cour by focusing more on the high-quality action and introducing minor stakes to the proceedings, and then everything else surrounding it made it feel no less like I’m just watching a guy playing a goddamn video game, and the stakes still mostly seem to amount to "he wants to be good at it."

You may notice that I didn’t include the second season in this review, and that’s because I flat-out didn’t care to pick it back up. I’d been busy during the fall season and continuing a show I didn’t enjoy that much just wasn’t a high priority. It’s continuing into January, so there’s time to catch it while it airs, but I’m still not in any hurry.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

hey so i’m new to the community fandom and i really love trobed. i was wondering what was your trobed centric episode masterlist like? or if it’s possible, is there a way to send me the post? sorry i’m new to tumblr so i’m still learning how this app works. if you see this, thanks :)

hi, welcome! I've found that community tumblr is probably my favorite fandom space I've ever been involved in, and I hope you've had a good experience so far. I totally get the New App Learning Curve thing, I'm historically very shit at learning how to use new apps, even though I'm "young" (20), but I eventually got it and you will too, Trust 👍👍👍

anyway, Yes one of the first things I did on here after joining was make a trobed-centric episode masterlist for someone who was asking lmfao. since it was one of the First things I did there's some formatting and other things I'd do differently now, and I've actually been looking for an excuse to go ahead and get that done, so. here we go.

the trobed-centric episode masterlist (revamped)

1x05: advanced criminal law

plot B

abed takes the "friends mess with each other" rule too far; he creates a whole fake language and spends a lot of money on trying to convince troy that he is an alien

"from now on, abed, friends don't mess with each other"

(this is the first time they do their signature handshake)

1/5 gayness, pretty platonic

1x10: environmental science

plot B

it's the "somewhere out there" episode what more do I need to say

3/5 gayness, something's happening fs

1x11: the politics of human sexuality

plot C

abed keeps beating troy in athletic competitions, making troy feel threatened. he eventually admits that abed is the better athlete and they make up

2/5 gayness, pretty platonic but it has its moments

1x22: the art of discourse

plot C

troy and abed work to complete abed's list of quintessential freshman year of college experiences list

2/5 gayness, they repeatedly put completing the list above looking cool in front of women

1x25: pascal's triangle revisited

plot C

troy is moving out of his dad's house and wants to move in with abed, but abed says no because he's afraid being that close and spending that much time together will result in constant annoyance, and will destroy their friendship

troy realizes that "too much of a good thing can be bad" and instead agrees to move in with pierce

1/5 gayness

2x02: accounting for lawyers

part of plot A

jeff gets sucked back into his old life as he reconnects with alan, a coworker from his old law firm. troy, abed, and annie try to gather proof that jeff's friend is the one who got him fired in the first place

more trobedison centric, and is actually the first episode where the three of them are established as a Trio™

"all I heard was suck" "YOU CHLOROFORMED THE JANITOR" "I usually have one foot out of reality and even I'm freaking out right now"

1/5 gayness, pretty platonic. they're the sillies ever I love trobedison

2x06: epidemiology

part of plot A

it's the zombie episode, come ON

trobed have coordinating costumes but troy bails during the party because he doesn't want to look lame and nerdy in front of women, which hurts abed's feelings

abed sacrifices himself to save troy once they are the last two standing during the "rabies pathogen" breakout

"I love you" "I know" (oh my GODDD sedate me)

5/5 gayness. you get it.

2x09: conspiracy theories and interior design

plot B

the original blanket fort 💯💯💯

2/5 gayness, just guys bein silly (and in love???)

2x15: early 21st century romanticism

plot B

troy and abed fall for the same girl and decide to take her to the valentine's dance together, after which she can decide which one of them she wants to date

she picks troy, but troy gets upset that she didn't pick abed (because why wouldn't she pick abed, he's so cool) and breaks it off almost immediately

I"happy valentine's day" "it is now"

5/5 gayness jesus christ this one is INSANE

2x18: custody law and eastern european diplomacy

plot B

britta likes troy and abed's new friend, lukka, who she finds out is a literal war criminal. she keeps this information from troy and abed because she doesn't want to ruin their friendship with him, but they find out eventually

2/5 gayness they're attached at the hip in this one

2x19: critical film studies

random moments

this episode is more focused on jeff and abed, but there's a lot of classic Troy Gets Jealous™ moments so I decided to include it. plus the end tag is them randomly having dinner together at the fancy restaurant (a date 😔)

basically troy is afraid that jeff is a cooler friend to abed than him

3/5 gayness even though they barely interact, troy is so silly

2x20: competitive wine tasting

part of plot B

I almost didn't include this one, and it's not even on my original list, but whatever

troy pretends to be traumatized, originally to seem less shallow in his acting class, but he keeps it going in order to attract britta. he tells abed about it and abed Does Not Like That At All

"troy. nothing good can come of this"

I wouldn't call abed being jealous a Rare Occurrence but he generally conceals it way better than troy does

2/5 gayness, could be interpreted as abed just worried about relationships forming under false pretense, but to Me he's jealous

2x22: applied anthropology and culinary arts

plot C

pierce buys the rights to troy and abed's handshake (a la Indecent Proposal) which "corrupts" it

"pierce tainted our special handshake with his blood money and now we can't get the magic baaaack :((((("

eventually they do indeed get the magic back

3/5 gayness idk there's something about the way they interact in this one that is inexplicably gay to me lmao

3x01: biology 101

plot C plus random moments

"speaking of figuring things out, me and abed have an announcement" "..." "troy and I are living together :D"

cougartown gets moved to midseason, then cougarton abbey ends after 6 episodes, abed's routine keeps getting thrown off, and troy is just extremely supportive and protective throughout

4/5 gayness troy loves him a lot!!!!!!

3x03: remedial chaos theory

random moments

(I know this ep is listed as 3x04 on streaming services but in canon it takes place here and on the dvds it's listed as 3x03. there's a joke about it in the episode too if you didn't know. anyway)

"troy and abed's new apartment!!!" "bienvenido a la casa chez trobed!" "wanna stay up all night talking in our bunk beds?"

all their pictures on the wall and their matching suits lol

the end tag "evil troy and evil abed" & troy's soft "what's wrong :("

3/5 gayness they're lowkey married your honor

3x05: horror fiction in seven spooky steps

random moments

troy's whole story he tells where they Literally become attached at the hip

"my partner"

troy dancing while abed's humming daybreak

2/5 gayness

3x06: advanced gay

plot B

troy deciding whether he wants to do plumbing or air conditioning and deciding all he really wants to do is watch tv with abed

gay symbolism? gay symbolism? gay symbolism?

4/5 gayness mostly for the conversation at the hawthorne wipes gathering. I could write an essay on just that

3x07: studies in modern movement

plot A

annie moves in with troy and abed. very trobedison centric

"kiss me woodsman troy!"

3/5 gayness once again casually in love they're soulmates your honor

3x09: foosball and nocturnal vigilantism

plot B

annie breaks abed's $200 special edition dark knight dvd set on accident, trobedison shenanigans ensue yippee!!!

"awww is that the grappling hook I got you for christmas???"

3/5 gayness for the same reasons as before

3x10: regional holiday music

part of plot A

literally putting this on here just because of the christmas infiltration rap (and baby boomer santa)

3/5 gayness it's glee club what can you do

3x11: contemporary impressionists

plot A

(once again, I know this episode is listed as 3x12 on streaming services, but in canon it's supposed to chronologically be here, and is listed as 3x11 on the dvds)

the study group helps abed pay off his debts to a celebrity impersonator website by playing characters at a bar mitzvah (after troy scolds them for trying to ground abed in reality)

they have an argument at the end ugh

3/5 gayness troy loves abed a lot and abed doesn't realize that he's doing something wrong

3x12: urban matrimony and the sandwich arts

plot C

(see the above disclaimer about episode order)

troy and abed decide to be normal for shirley's wedding rehearsal

troy and abed being normal 🤝

4/5 gayness they blow off a girl to be weird again

3x13: digital exploration of interior design

plot C

blanket fort: redux (oh god)

vice dean laybourne escalates what started as a minor disagreement in order to drive a wedge between troy and abed. it works

5/5 gayness, if a sitcom doesn't have the two codependent fanonical gays go through an unnecessarily dramatic "break up" then I don’t want it

3x14: pillows and blankets

plot A

🎶troy and abed are in conflict🎶 *cries*

pillow fort vs. blanket fort

they eventually make up but not before they hurt each others' feelings a Lot

5/5 gayness the dramatics jesus christ

3x16: virtual systems analysis

random moments

so this episode is more focused on abed and annie, and troy and abed actually don't Technically interact with each other very much at all, but. you know

abed kinda freaks out when troy and britta go on a date because it "messes with the fabric of the group" (🤨 I know what you are)

troy calls annie to "check on abed" boy you are on a date with a woman

4/5 gayness just from subtext you get it

3x17: basic lupine urology

random moments

troy and abed play detective as they try to figure out who sabotaged the group's biology project

"we can't both do the zinger"

4/5 gayness no explanation

3x19: curriculum unavailable

random moments

the study group is expelled from greendale and abed gets arrested for spying on campus, so he's supposed to have a psychological evaluation

troy is just very protective of him in this episode, plus the flashback clip where he and Annie are comforting him as he's freaking out about daylight savings

"our adventures are VERY manly"

4/5 gayness

3x21: the first chang dynasty

random moments

oof baboof with you two! (all the plumber shenanigans are hilarious)

mostly putting this one on here for the goodbye scene at the end of the episode, though. god

"he said, 'I know you hate when people do this in movies.' sorry I got emotional"

3x22: introduction to finality

plot B

abed "goes crazy" without troy (who's off at a/c repair school)

when troy comes back he prioritizes abed over britta (who he supposedly has romantic feelings for)

"I miss abed so much" "you're afraid you'll go crazy without troy"

4/5 gayness one could say they're a little codependent

4x03: conventions of space and time

plot A

troy gets jealous of (read: goes "psycho girlfriend on") abed's new inspector spacetime superfan friend toby

britta, even as troy's literal girlfriend, calls abed troy's boyfriend and supports troy through the whole thing

"for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, I knew someone would come" let me just put my head through my wall really quick

5/5 gayness even though troy has a whole gf. that's how gay this episode is

4x11: basic human anatomy

plot A

troy and abed pretend to switch bodies, like in freaky friday, in order to help troy process his feelings about his relationship with britta

5/5 gayness holy SHIT y'all. I could write thousands of words on this episode. it is so hard to justify troy's actions in this one without reading him as a closeted gay person not lying

5x03: basic intergluteal numismatics

random moments

including this one because of how abed comforts troy and pushes him around in a wheelchair for the entire episode

3/5 gayness it's the casual married-ness again smh

5x04: cooperative polygraphy

random moments

this is another one I didn't include on my original list but I decided fuck it

the bit uncovering the actual origin of their patented handshake is so funny "I can't even look at you right now" "then you should know I'm crying"

also just the. look on abed's face when troy agrees to go on the trip at the end. "cool. cool cool cool." "that's a lie" UGHHHHH

4/5 gayness again. so typical

5x05: geothermal escapism

plot A

do I need to say a word

ouch ouch ouch OUCH

5/5 gayness especially the deleted dialogue from the last scene (I've posted it before but lmk if you don't know what I'm talking about. disclaimer it makes me want to launch myself off the empire state building)

alright. there it is folks. I was going to make another subsection of other random iconic trobed moments and cite the episodes they're from but basically every single episode has at least one, so that list would be Way too long to qualify as a supplement to this one lmao. however! if you have a Trobed Moment™ stuck in your head (or any Moment for that matter) and you can't remember which episode it's from feel free to ask me, I'm confident that my internal community database will be able to Remind You. anyway. hope this was helpful. bye

[fairystar111]

fairystar111 Fic/AU Master List:

Hey guys I realized my blog is a little bit of a mess to scroll through so I made a master list of all my current works for my tumblr readers. This will be updated regularly with any new works. Also if you want to see new posts quickest follow me on Ao3 at fairystar111. I usually post things on there first since tumblr is a lot of formatting work tbh.

Series Title: The New Days

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark platonic yandere Villains Win AU. In this AU the war broke out right after the stain arc and took everyone by surprise. The villains quickly won the battle and decided to take their spoils of war in the form of the students. Each part focuses on a different child and their new life with their captor. I'm not going to lie some of these are a little heavy(*cough*#6 *cough*) so make sure to read all tags please.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Dark New World : Prologue

Dead Man's Wish: Yandere Big Brother!Shigaraki takes Izuku after he receives a letter from Afo's confirming him as his son.

Heirs of Yesterday : Yandere!Dabi taking back what is his (Shouto) and forcing him to be the weak baby brother he left behind all those years ago.

Birds of a Feather: Yandere Villain Papa!Hawks takes his intern Tokoyami as his fledgling and uses his avian instincts against him to force him to submit.

Chain the Past: This one involves the entire Yandere!League of Villains taking other members of class 1A and forcing them to be guard dogs for their children.

Trapped in Heaven: Yandere Dad!Twice and Yandere Big Sister!Toga take Ochaco after she saves Toga and Himiko becomes infatuated(platonically) with saving her in return. Though their methods are unconventional and end up hurting Ochaco mentally.

Two of a Kind: Big Brother!Spinner takes Asui in a moment of weakness/loneliness looking for companionship and ends up regretting his decision. He tries to correct his mistakes but the rest of the Yandere!League of Villains are not so quick to let go.

Series Title: Meant to be

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark platonic yandere Omega-Verse AU. That focuses on Omega pup!Katsuki Bakugo being kidnapped by the League of Villains and forced to be their pup. Specifically Yandere!Alpha!Shigaraki and Yandere!Omega!Dabi's child. The rest of the league view him as a pack pup with Toga seeing him as her little brother.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Meant to be Ours: This story focuses on Bakugo's struggles with his omega classification along with his fight against both Stockholm Syndrome and his own underused suppressed instincts.

Meant to Be AU Omega-verse Guidebook!: A guide to understanding the fundamentals of the Meant to be AU

Meant to be Yours: (Sequel) just read it and find out I'm sick of this summary shit...

Series Title: Baby Blues

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: This is a dark Post-War AU focusing around the Todoroki family. In this AU Yandere!Endeavor is not too hurt during the war and still the Number One Hero after it. He becomes mentally unstable after seeing two of his son's almost die in war that he decides to take Shouto out of UA.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Oh Baby Blue don't you know I love you?: Enji is trying to be a good father in his own deranged way by locking Shouto away at home and keeping him away from hero work for his own safety. He convinces everyone that Shouto is mentally unwell that that is why he is gone. He forcibly cares for Shouto drugging him to keep him weak and treating him like a child, doing the things he never did the first time around.

Series Title: Puppy Love

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AU Summary: Tomura Shigaraki accidentally kidnaps recently transformed puppy Izuku.

Status: Ongoing

Parts:

Chapter 1:

[tinacentury]

2024 Fic Year in Review

Before re-reading my 2023 fic year in review post, I think I would have said “I’m feeling kind of weird about fandom stuff lately”. In 2023, I felt like fandom was kind of slipping away from me, and like, what the hell I am still doing here? In retrospect, I’m feeling less weird about it than I did last year, or at least have accepted the weirdness that comes along with still enjoying in a hobby that many have moved on from.

This year, I find that I’ve reflected more on the nature of fandom friendships than on fandom itself. I reposted a thing on bluesky a few weeks ago that was like (and I’m paraphrasing) “fandom friendships go from we like this same thing to here’s my trauma to please review my resume”, and I added “and then they go to not really talking and feeling wildly guilty about it or not really talking and feeling rejected or not really talking but still looking back on things fondly.” I think all of these things can be true at different times in the same friendships, and now I find myself looking up research about the nature of online intimacy, etc in an effort to understand (my psychologist brand remains consistent).

I guess my main point in saying all of this is that I’m sorry to anyone whom I’ve made feel bad by not staying in touch—I really do treasure every connection I’ve made across two different fandoms—and thank you to those who have made me feel like I’m worth it even when I’m not always great at maintaining relationships myself stayed in touch with me, even if our relationship looks different from how it used to. Every text (even the ones I have very, very delayed responses to), card, Facebook message, gift, comment and in-person meet-up (was lucky enough to have a couple of these this year!) has meant a lot to me this year. I hope you all have a cozy last few days of 2024, and I truly wish you all the best for 2025.

Anyway, on to the writing reflections.

List of fics completed this year (in order they were finished):

lol none 😬. I got married this year; life was busy.

Number of words written:

11,504 (lol see above)

Your most popular fic:

A Change of Time

Your personal fave:

A Change of Time

Your fave scene:

I think it’s the ball scene in a Change of Time, when Kate realizes Anthony isn’t a groom.

A fic or scene that challenged you:

My Before AU. I see now that it’s been almost a year since I updated it. I just wasn’t able to get into it this year, but I recently re-read it and was like, “oh this is good; I should continue”, so…that’s the goal.

A line of writing you’re proud of:

From the Before AU:

“ ‘I didn't say I was bad at it. Just that I didn't care for it.’ Kate laughed at the disgruntled huff Anthony let out that she could only describe as … adorable. It made her want to push—to tease—just a little bit more.”

A comment that touched you:

Someone commented on A Change of Time “thank you for being such a wonderful voice in the fandom” and, as someone who 1) didn’t feel at home in the fandom at the beginning and 2) often feels like I’m just word-vomiting thoughts that people secretly (or not-so-secretly) judge into the void, it meant a lot.

Something that inspired your writing:

@grantairesbottle, who got me out of a writing slump with her encouragement (also I’m coming back; it’s just been hard with holidays!)

Your proudest accomplishment:

Hmm last year one of my goals was to get back into writing regency Kanthony, and I’m proud of myself for doing that with a Change of Time

Do you have any writing goals for next year?

-finish a Change of Time

-finish write the next Chapter of my Before AU and take it from there

-stop getting in my own head and just enjoy this little writing hobby of mine

I tag @misstwentyynine, @grantairesbottle, and @uglygreenjacket if any of you want (and also anyone else who wants to!)

[thevioletcaptain]

Hi! I don’t mean in any way to pressure you but I was wondering if you’re planning on continuing your fic “fortress”? I’d love to see it continue🥰 again no pressure I just really like your works!

Hi anon! Thanks for the message :)

Despite the hellishly long gap between updates, Fortress is not abandoned, and I do intend to finish it. It's actually pretty high up on my to-do list right now, and will be the next major thing I post once As A Friend is done.

Here's the order in which I plan to post DeanCas fics/updates over the next few months -- with some vague spoiler-adjacent-but-not-really-spoilery details for anyone who wants them:

Chapters 5 & 6 - As A Friend Roughly 35k words in total, split over these final two chapters. This will see Dean & Cas return to the bunker, announce their "fake" relationship to Sam & Jack, and then [redacted because I'm not giving the whole thing away even though you already know it's gonna be a happy ending].

Chapters 8, 9, & 10 - Fortress Roughly 22k words split between these three chapters. Chapter 9 (the during chapter in which Dean is suffering) & chapter 10 (the after chapter which follows the first days of Dean living with Cas after coming home) have been ready for a while, but chapter 8 (the before chapter, which features Robin's party when they were 16 👀 a party which you might recall was mentioned by Cas during the previous before chapter) has been holding them hostage. So as soon as 8 is ready I intend to post all three at once.

Oneshot - Hearts Beating Life (Into Each Other) Roughly 25k words of canonverse fuck-or-die fic. In which Cas gets cursed on a hunt, and you'll never guess what Dean has to do to save him..... lol. It'll probably get split into two or three chapters for readability, but I plan to post it all at once. This is only one final scene away from being complete at this point, but I want to finish As A Friend & update Fortress before I share it.

Chapter 8 - Isosceles Roughly 17k words, because this fic refuses to let me be succinct. Dean & Cas discuss more almosts, the angels make contact, we find out exactly what Sam said to Dean in chapter 4, Claire [redacted] when [redacted], Mary and Dean bond over [redacted], and the search for Kelly Kline picks up steam.

Chapters 3 & 4 - Empty Heroics Roughly 20k words split between these final two chapters. In which there is bed sharing, a plan is formulated, and Nobody Dies. I realize that barely anyone even read the first two chapters of this fic, but I still really like it and want to finish it off, so it's the fifth thing on my to-do list.

Oneshot - As-Yet-Untitled Shrinking Curse Fic Roughly 10k words of canonverse established relationship PWP. In which they've been together for literally three days when Dean gets hit with a shrinking curse that won't wear off for a year, and comes up with a creative solution to ensure that they can still enjoy the physical aspects of their new relationship despite being small enough to perch on Cas' shoulder.

Chapter 1 - One More Chain Does The Maker Make Roughly 10k words, and the first of five chapters. The whole fic should come in around 50-60k words, and it's canon-divergent from 15.06. Featuring a lot of pining, and Dean working on Jesse and Cesar's ranch. I posted about it here if you want to know more!

The final 5 chapters of Fortress & final 3 chapters of Isosceles will come next -- likely to be about another 30k and 45k respectively, based on current word counts and what remains to be written.

At some point in between all of this I also plan to post some updates to The Coda Project (I've written at least half of each coda up to 1.12 Faith at this point, I just need to buckle down and finish them off in order so I can start posting them again), along with a handful of short tumblr prompt meme ficlets I've written recently -- specifically, those based on the following six trios of emojis: [🧪🧛🏻‍♀️💦], [🔮🛁🫂], [🤠🎶🌬��], [🪼👀🎨], [🥬🍅✨], and [🥶😶‍🌫️🤯], all of which ended up being significantly longer than they should have been, hence the delay in posting them.

...aaaand I realize that this is far more information than you asked for so I apologize. But thanks again for your message, and for reading. I hope you enjoy all the updates when they're posted 💚

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 1: Be Still

AN: You will never know how many times I've smiled seeing all the notifications for this. Thank you for making my return to fan fic writing a happy occasion. I hope I live up to your expectations (and please bare with me when I say it's been a while (Do I dare say 8 years?!)).

We start off sad, but it gets better for these two <3

PSA: I will have the status of each part posted at the top of the Masterlist post. Check it out to see where I'm at :)

Copying or redistributing to another site is prohibited.

___________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, angst, death of a parent/sibling, godmother reader/original female character, supportive dagger squad.

#3K Words

Masterlist | Part 2

You had gotten the call on a Friday night while working at the Hard Deck. 

You had rang someone up for putting their phone on Penny’s bar. The laughter was contagious, with lines of Navy pilots coming up to claim their free drink. Some of the Dagger squad were there enjoying the night: Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote, with whom you developed a fast friendship. You were only a few weeks back into the job you considered your saving grace during school. 

You were collecting empty bottles from the piano where Rooster sat almost every night. It was an average night. Then you felt your phone vibrate hard in your back pocket. 

Juggling the empty bottles into one handle, you answered it, initially not recognizing the number. 

“Hello, am I speaking to Elizabeth Beck?” 

“Speaking,” 

“I’m Ridley Beck’s Lawyer. I’m sorry to inform you over the phone, but your sister has passed away in an accident. Are you able to come down to Sacramento?” 

The two bottles slipped from your hand, shattering on impact with the floor. Someone must have boxed your ears and shoved cotton down your mouth. Your voice was hoarse as you managed a “Sadie. Um... What about Sadie?” 

Sadie, your ten-year-old niece. Sadie, who loved bugs and butterflies and singing. Sadie, who cried while reading books and asked about your day every single time you called. Sadie, who only had your sister. Sadie, who was now an orphan, alone and scared. 

“She is currently with a friend. As I understand, you are legally listed as her godmother.” 

“Yes, yes, I am,” You came up to grip your forearm as you suddenly felt off-balanced.  “Am I able to … Can I come and get her?” 

Your discussion with the person on the other end went over your head. Besides the person on the phone and your heartbeat in your ear, it could have been silent in the bar. You didn’t realize you had hung up your phone until Natasha and Bradley came up behind you to investigate the broken glass. 

“Elizabeth?” Phoenix asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

You turned to face the pair, tears spilling over. “My… My sister just died.” 

“Oh, Liz,” Nat pulled you into her arms, pressing your head hard into her shoulder. You were failing miserably, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Your niece?” Rooster questioned, feeling his hand land softly on your back. 

“With a friend. I need to get her. I.. need to go to Sacramento.” 

You pulled away from Nat, wiping your eyes. You missed the look Bradley and Nat gave each other, too preoccupied with wondering how Sadie was faring and what might be waiting for you upon your arrival. 

“We’ll come with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Rooster still looking at Phoenix, who nodded. 

You looked up shocked. “You guys have training. You can’t just drop everything.” 

“I have some time left,” Nat quickly assured you before Rooster replied, “And I have a favour to cash in with Mav.” 

You shook your head, “No, I can’t ask you to waste it on me.” 

“Hey, we aren’t wasting it.” Nat pulled you back to her side, an arm securely wrapped around your waist. “You’re our friend. How many times have you taken care of our asses? Let us return the favour.” 

You relented. Penny let you leave early with tears in her eyes, a long hug and a promise you would call her when you arrived safely. The morning after, the three of you piled into Phoneix’s truck, beginning the journey to Sadie. While Rooster volunteered to drive and Phoenix slept, you couldn’t help but stare out the window, grieving the life you and Sadie would now have without your sister.

___

You thought the walk to Sadie’s friend’s house would have let you mentally clear your head. The drive from North Island had given you time to think about what you might say or what to expect. Yet, standing on the front step of the unfamiliar house, the words you so carefully considered escaped you.

You forced yourself to knock on the door, a wave of nausea hitting you with each passing moment. You smiled at the woman who opened the door. Thank yous spilling from your lips for watching Sadie. She only pulled you into a hug and gave you her condolences. The words, “I’m sorry for your loss,” hit you harder each time someone offered them. 

She invited you inside and led you upstairs to a room at the end of a gray hallway with a sad smile, “Take as long as you need.” 

You took a deep breath. The door was slightly ajar, and as you lightly pressed on it, your niece came into view through the crack. 

There she was, short blonde hair hiding her face, sitting on a bed in the centre of the room. A blanket had been wrapped tightly around her body. She was struggling, trying as hard as possible to control her sobs while her eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor. You cursed her so-called friend for leaving her alone.  

 Placing three knocks on the door, her eyes shot up. 

“Hi, Bug.” 

“Aunt Liz!” she sobbed, arms abandoning the blanket to reach for you, red blotches splattering her face. 

You went to her, collapsing to your knees before the bed. Her arms clutched you tightly, and her head fell into your neck. Her struggle ceased when she touched you as if your presence permitted her to cry. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the wave of heart-wrenching sobs, her questions of why, why, why spilling out of her. For everything you thought about saying to her, in the end, what could you say or do but let her cry? 

You don’t know how long you spent kneeling on that floor, holding her as she finally tired herself out. Knees aching, you found the strength to move and speak after she resorted to sniffling into your neck. 

“I can never replace your mom, but you have me, Sadie,” leaning back, fingers softly tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m always going be here for you.” 

She openly wept, “There was a storm, and she was coming to pick me up. There was a test, and I needed help. It's my fault she’s gone. If I didn’t need help, if I paid attention harder in class, she never would have...” You silenced her, placing your hands on her cheeks. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Bug. It could never be your fault. Please understand that.” She shook her head, her breath starting to pick up again. 

“Sadie, it was an accident. She could have walked here from the townhouse to get to you. She was in her car for another reason. It wasn’t your fault. Please, sweetheart.” 

Her internal struggle was written all over her face. “You weren’t the tree. You didn’t cause the storm,” your voice soft. 

Her eyes locked on to yours, teeth working her bottom lip. You could see the moment her face relaxed and a nod shortly after that. Your hand came up to wipe her cheek. 

“We have to go home now to sort out everything,” you took a deep breath. “It's going to be harder than anything the both of us will ever do, but we can’t put it off.” 

She nodded absentmindedly. “Do you think we could be strong for each other while we do this? Then when it's over, we can be there for each other?” 

She fiddled with the edge of the blanket, “Does this mean I’m coming home with you to North Island?” 

A pause. Then you nodded, “I know it’s not ideal, and your life is here, but..” 

She interrupted you, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna be here anymore, Aunt Liz. There are too many memories of her. It's okay.”  

Her understanding, and her wanting to leave the home she had known since birth, made a fresh wave of tears rush to the surface. You tugged her back into your embrace. 

“I want to be strong for mum and you.” 

Your tears fell. “I miss her too, Bug. More than anything.”

___

Rooster and Phoneix were waiting for you back at the townhouse. As the both of you walked up the driveway, you noticed a small trailer and cardboard boxes. They must have found them while you went to get Sadie. 

Sadie froze on the front step once she noticed them opening the door. She shifted behind your legs, hiding out of their sight. 

“Bug, these are..” you started to say but paused. 

“I’m your Aunt Natasha. This is your Uncle Rooster,” Nat finished for you, kneeling just a few feet away. Her eyes tracked from you down to Sadie as she added, “We’re friends with your Aunt.” 

Rooster followed Nat’s lead, kneeling on the opposite side of her, “We didn’t want you and your Aunt to be alone.”

Sadie peered out from behind your leg, eyeing Rooster carefully. “You’re Bradley,” She sniffed, wiping her nose. “You don’t have your parents either.”  

Before, you used to call them a lot, sharing the details of life in the Navy-centric town. Ridley constantly pressured you about finding a hunk of an aviator boyfriend, but Sadie was always interested in learning about the aviators you called your friends. You always entertained her. It didn’t surprise you she remembered Rooster had no family left. 

“No, I don’t,” He replied. A sad smile broke through your tears as you watched Sadie quickly step out from behind you to wrap her arms around Rooster’s neck. 

Rooster immediately looked up at you while returning her hug. Sadie curled herself into him tighter, her voice quiet as she asked, “Maybe we could look out for each other?”

Rooster closed his eyes and gave a soft smile before pulling back to look at her. 

“Of course, we can, Bug. We aren’t going anywhere.” 

___

In the first few weeks after bringing Sadie home, she only wanted to stay in your bed, wrapped up in one of the blankets you took from Ridley’s bed. The funeral was still fresh in both of your minds; the image of Sadie gripping Rooster’s hand as she dropped the first handful of dirt onto your sister’s coffin would haunt you for the rest of your life. As much as you were grieving your sister, she was grieving the only parent she knew. 

While you tried to process your own way and stay strong for your niece, Sadie tried to hide her struggle. The minute you returned home, you expected her to cave hard. But she didn’t. 

You had to give her credit. She was trying. A strained smile at the dinner table. A forced reply as you asked her how her day had been at her new school. She did all her chores and homework and ran errands with you. She never protested or acted out. Maybe she was expecting you to give first. Neither of you did—the promise to stay strong for each other lasted longer than you thought. 

Rooster and Phoneix came around a lot during those first few weeks. You had invited them to dinner one Saturday night as a thank you, and Rooster instantly sought Sadie out, finding her in your backyard pulling at strands of grass. 

He listened to her grieve, and as much as you wished she’d open up to you, you were happy she was talking to someone. Rooster understood what she was going through, and you were grateful he was there for her. And that followed when you couldn’t pick her up from school, Bradley eagerly volunteering where he could, taking her out after school. 

Then, one day Phoenix showed up at your doorstep with a soccer ball and a cheery smile. You had previously attempted to get Sadie outside, drives along the west coast with blasting music. Despite saying she had a good time with a soft smile, something in her gaze told you she was in pain. 

Nat pulled Sadie off the couch. The two often practiced in the backyard, Nat using the sport to bond with her. After learning she had difficulty fitting in at her new school, Nat taught Sadie how to confront the girls who picked on her. The part of Sadie who loved to be witty suddenly came back in full force when you picked her up from school one day, a smile on her face and an answer to your daily question of how her day had been. ‘Those girls wouldn’t bother me anymore’ was her reply. 

With Rooster came Maverick. The ‘fun uncle’ she liked to call him. Who took her flying and, after some convincing, on bike rides. You could vividly remember hearing the first burst of giggles through the headset while waiting on the airstrip, the first time she laughed since coming home with you. The sound healed a small part of your heart that broke with Ridley’s death. 

Penny spoiled her to no end when she came into the picture. Amelia usually spent Wednesday nights helping her with homework. Sadie’s love for reading returned full force, asking you to take her to the library almost every week. You eagerly obliged. 

Things improved drastically with Bob coming into the picture. Since returning to the Hard Deck, you hadn’t met the WSO initially, but after a tag along with Phoneix, he quickly became one of Sadie’s favourite people. He shared Sadie’s interest in everything related to insects. The nickname your sister teased her with, Bug, now an honorary call sign. Sadie was lighting up more, wanting to go on nature hikes with you and do things she was passionate about. 

Then out of nowhere, Coyote volunteered to barque on Saturday nights with the squad. Fanboy was geeking out with her over the most recent superhero movies. And Payback was suddenly playing video games with her, Mario Kart and Mario Party instant smack talk conversation starters. 

Almost every Saturday night, the Daggers were at your house, taking it upon themselves to be around whenever they could, to be part of your lives as you both adapted to a life without Ridley. You couldn’t be any more grateful.

You learned not all of the Daggers ended up in your Saturday Night group at one of Sadie’s soccer games. You, Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote were sitting on a metal bleacher, sharing a bag of oranges as you watched Sadie. 

“Hangman comes back from Texas tomorrow,” you heard Coyote telling Rooster, who immediately scoffed.  

You pulled a face. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?” 

“He’s the one who saved Mav and Rooster on the Uranium mission,” Phoenix reached over to grab an orange slice out of the bag on your lap, soon followed by Rooster. “He and Rooster have a professional rivalry.” 

“Oh really?” You giggled. “I thought all the Daggers were back.” 

“Nah, he wanted to spend more time with his family,” Coyote replied before cheering for Sadie as she made a break for the ball.

‘Hangman,’ the call sign replayed your head. Penny often warned you about the pilots who came through the Hard Deck. More often, it was to warn the unfortunate girls who simply wanted to enjoy a night out. Or to recommend going after if they wanted a good time. 

Then it clicked, “Oh, Penny has his name on the list in the girl's bathroom.” 

Rooster squeaked out almost choking on his orange, “That thing exists?!”

You and Phoneix snickered. “Why, you wondering if you made the cut, Bradshaw?” 

Rooster’s weak throw of his orange peel had the both of you leaning back, trying to escape, laughter and protests spilling from both of your lips. Coyote could only shake his head. 

You knew the humorous story behind Rooster’s call sign and the more dauntless one behind Phoneix’s. Coyote got his simply by yipping at every successful moment or when someone was playfully dragged. But something like Hangman? Taking a guess, his story was nothing like how your friends got theirs. 

You hesitantly asked, “How did he get the name?”

Natasha was the first to reply. “Back in basic during our first dog fight. He left his wingman out to dry. Don’t know what he was trying to prove, but his wingman was marked within seconds. He got one hell of a breakdown from the instructor, calling him the noose that would kill anyone who would fly with him.” 

“He’s run with it ever since. Proving it in more ways than one,” Rooster added. You could practically hear the eyeroll.  

Your disappointment was evident, “Ugh, I’m surprised it's not just his name on Penny’s list.” 

Suddenly a round of replies went around the group. 

“Yeah, he’s not going anywhere near Sadie or you,” Rooster sneered. 

Coyote pipped up, eyes still on the game, “He may be my friend, but we don’t need him to be an asshole around Sadie.”

“He’d flirt with any female within a five-mile radius to get them into his bed, and you don’t deserve that,” Phoenix scoffed. 

You weren’t surprised. The cocky aviator type was a personality you frequently saw with the younger pilots working at the Hard Deck. Being accepted into Top Gun gave them the impression any woman jumped at the chance to be another notch in their bedpost. Several proved differently, but more often than not, you were rebuffing attempts. 

You frowned. Sadie getting hurt was continuously on your mind, often wondering what it would take to knock down the progress she had made these past few weeks. A cocky pilot who left his teammates out to dry? It was possible, but you only liked to judge someone after you met them. 

“He doesn’t get invited to Saturday nights.”

You whipped your head. “Rooster! I will not exclude someone from your squad because of some rivalry. You guys shack up at my house whenever you please. I won’t be responsible for your team falling apart because somebody wasn’t invited to someone’s birthday party.” Then an afterthought, “Watch him not come anyway.” 

“Liz, why do you think Penny’s strapped for bartenders? Particularly of the female sort?” 

Penny’s plea for you to return to your old job included a long-winded speech about her difficulties retaining staff. The story she told of a girl with a broken heart after a one-night stand came to mind. 

You let out a long groan, head falling into your lap at the implication, “He hooked up with them?” 

“We think he has a thing for bartenders. We have a tally.” 

That explained why Penny put his name up in the girl's bathroom, why she was subtly dropping hints about you ‘having a good head on your shoulders’ since you returned. 

“We like you, and you’re our friend. Please don’t fall for his charms. For Sadie’s sake.” 

You reached over to pat his shoulder, “I’m a big girl, Bradley. You should know by now guys like that don’t phase me. I’m not the type who does one-night stands.” 

Rooster squeezed your hand before his attention shifted back to the game.

As you watched Sadie pass the ball to a team member who shot up toward the goalie, you couldn’t help but focus on their words.

Hangman sounded like being a dick was a large part of his personality. He wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to do something creative on his helmet with a call sign like his. His ego wouldn’t let him.  

As the boys cheered for the goal on Sadie’s team, you leaned over to Natasha, 

“Don’t tell me. His helmet, like the game…. certain letters are missing?”

Phoenix shrugged before drinking her water, “You said it, not me.” 

You pointed your finger in your mouth and gagged.

Tag List: @blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891

Are you interested in joining the tag list? Leave a comment or let me know!

Jake is in the next part!

Wickett :)

[h-c-u]

Eye of the storm pt 1

Summary: You can't cope with your grief and Beau is there for you.

Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x fem!reader (Iceman's daughter)

W/C: 8k

Rating: PG, age gap, canon character's death (Tom Kazansky)

TWs: Grief, unnamed ED, Panic attacks.

A/N: It's going to be long and slow. And there is a lot of feelings. Is it healthy...? Wellll.... What in life truly is healthy...? Also - the next chapter is almost ready, and will be most likely posted on Sunday.

Part 2 | Part 3 Masterlist | List of tags | Eye of the storm playlist

Personal note: I am aware that grief is a very heavy topic for some people, and if you're not in the right mindset, please skip this story. A lot of what I described here is based on my personal experiences, so if you could, please don't comment on the amount of sleeping, crying and panic attacks. From the outside perspective, I know that there are a lot of them, and that it might even sound unrealistic for someone who was able to deal with loss in a more healthy way than I did. Everyone deals with it differently and I wish none of you, my dear readers, will experience what I did. Love,  G.

The last few weeks were rough for you... Mostly because you just couldn't process your dad's death properly, and you were having terrible nightmares every night and panic attacks when you were awake. And yet, you were afraid to go back to therapy; you just... weren't ready yet, because actually going there and talking about it somehow made it more... true. And because acknowledging that would break you even more. 

You couldn't spend more than a few minutes at home, because everywhere you looked you were expecting to see him, to hear him... Every time you looked at your phone you were expecting to see a text from him... Every time you looked at your driveway you expected to see him getting out of the car... But none of those things happened, and every time you realized that the won't happen ever again, it was crushing you over and over. 

You cling to his clothes, desperately seeking the remains of his scent... You re-read his journals every day, hoping that somehow the last unfinished sentence magically fills in with his neat handwriting the next time you get to that page... You were obsessively listening to the recording of My Funny Valentine he made for your mother a few years ago when he still had his voice... 

You knew that none of those things was healthy. And yet, you just couldn't let them go, making yourself re-live the pain of realizing that he's truly gone multiple times every day... 

To say that you were close with your dad would be a severe understatement. You told him everything, and he told you even more than he was sharing with your mother. You were almost inseparable, especially during the last couple of years. You learned sign language with him and you were with him in every unofficial meeting, translating, because it was much faster than writing on a computer. You were with him at every doctor’s appointment and every round of chemo, talked him through every panic attack and moment of self-doubt, when your mother just couldn't handle it anymore. 

And you missed him with every breath you took and with every heartbeat...

But ever since the funeral... you just couldn't handle it. And you had no one to help you, so you hid in the place where you could weirdly still feel his presence... 

You never got into military; you knew you weren't built for that life. You craved personal freedom too much and the strict routine would kill you. And yet you found yourself seeking the comfort of that, even if only by existing in the same space as it was happening. 

To be honest, you assumed that getting on base would be much harder, considering that you weren't even in the academy, but almost everyone you came in contact with got sudden amnesia and selective blindness when they saw you entering the base or walking the corridors... You usually just sat on the floor somewhere, tucked in the corner of the hangar, or in the furthest part of a cafeteria, being completely quiet and re-reading one of your dad's journals. It was the only place where you didn't feel like dying...

You were extremely careful not to accidentally stumble upon something you weren't supposed to see or hear, that's why it took you so long to get into your fathers office; because you assumed it was reassigned and you didn't want to be confronted by the new occupant... 

But you finally gathered the courage to open the familiar door and enter even more familiar room. You've spent a lot of hours here... Sure, all the personal belongings were packed and sent to your mother's house, but you could still see the marks he made there... 

The worn place on the edge of his desk, where he rubbed his thumb over and over, when someone was saying something extremely stupid during meetings. Blinds were still in the 2/3s of the window, just as he liked. The place in the carpet where he liked to keep his right foot perpendicularly to the floor, resting it on his toe was still visible. And many, many little things that gave unimaginable comfort when you saw them again. He was still here... Maybe not alive, but he was still here, and that took that heavy weight from your chest and shoulders, even if just for a moment. 

You couldn't force yourself to sit in his chair, it felt almost sacrilegious... Instead, you opted on curling up on the couch you helped choose, just for few minutes... To catch a breath from the constant grieving, even if for a moment... You didn't even notice when you fell asleep, and for the first time in weeks, there were no nightmares haunting your dreams... 

- Cyclone...? - he heard a familiar voice, and he instantly turned around. - Are you ok, buddy? - Warlock looked a little bit concerned but got curious when his friend put his finger on his lips, shushing him, and closing the door to his office a bit more. 

- I'm fine... - he lied smoothly, trying to position himself in front of his door in such a way, that his friend wouldn't see inside, but he failed. 

- What the...!? - to say that Solomon was surprised and confused would be an understatement, when he caught sight of the young women sleeping on the couch in his friend's office. 

- Shush. - Cyclone pulled his friend by the elbow further into the corridor, so their conversation wouldn't be so loud. 

- Why the hell she's in your office, and more importantly, why the hell were you watching her sleep? - Warlock crossed his arms on his chest evidently judging, and Beau's shoulders slumped as he looked at the floor. 

- Because she thinks this office is still unoccupied... And it's the only place where she doesn't have nightmares when she sleeps... - he bluntly avoided answering the second question, because if he did, he would actually have to admit few things out loud, and he definitely didn't want to do that in front of his friend. 

- And you know that because...? - Solomon dug deeper and Cyclone sighed heavily. 

- Because I overheard her conversation with her mother after I caught her for the first time...

- Jesus Christ, Beau...

- I know, believe me. - he was evidentially ashamed of what he did, and Sol didn't even know the half of it. 

- How often is she here? - Warlock sighed again and let his arms fall to his sides. 

- Every day... - even though Beau was much higher than his friend, right now he felt much, much shorter. 

- Every...!? Cyclone, what the actual fuck!? - vice-admiral wanted nothing more than for the ground beneath him to open and swallow him whole. - Wait... If she's in your office every day... Where have you been working from? - the judgement disappeared for a moment, replaced by curiosity. 

- From a conference room on the 3rd floor... - compared to the previous things, this one was easy to admit, and now Solomon just laughed quietly... 

- Shit, you're in deep, aren't you... Working from that shoebox just so she can catch some sleep... For how long exactly? - usually very sure in himself and confident Beau Simpson was currently folding onto himself in front of his best friend. 

- Almost two months... - he mumbled under his breath, readying for the next wave of laughter. 

- Have you even talked to her? - Cyclone didn't have to reply for Solomon to know the answer. - Why? 

- She's very obviously grieving. And she's Iceman's very young daughter and he would... - he couldn't even finish that sentence. 

- He would what... kill you? A bit late for that, isn't it...? - if looks could kill, Solomon would be dead then and there. - And I didn't mean it like that... Everyone treats her either as a ghost or like an egg which could break any second. Just treat her as a human being, not as a daughter of a dead father. Talk to her. And don't creepily watch her sleep ever again, because you won’t have to wait for Kazansky to kill you, I'll do it for him, I'm serious. - his expression told Beau that indeed, he wasn't joking. 

Cyclone sighed heavily and straightened himself, trying to put on his usual expression of confidence and nonchalance, which came surprisingly easy. 

- Could you...? - he asked before they went their separate ways. 

- Yeah, yeah... Your creepy little secret is safe with me... - he just shook his head when his friend's face showed nothing but relief for a short moment. - But seriously, she's a human being first, just remember that. - Cyclone only nodded, straightened himself and readjusted the flies and laptop he was holding in his hands. - Atta boy. - older man couldn't help but laugh and patted his friend on the shoulder. 

But when Beau was passing his door, he couldn't help but take one last look at the sleeping girl in his office... She looked so innocent and peaceful, curled up in a tiny ball on only one couch cushion, desperately trying to occupy as little space as possible. Her breathing was steady, and he could see her chest slowly raising and coming down, even from that far. He didn't have time to study the light freckles on her cheeks that were glistening like gold in the rays of morning sunshine. He took this sight one last time and gently closed the door, leaving her completely alone, which was much more true than he realized at the moment. 

Next time he saw you was on the balcony of the hangar. He was looking for a quiet space to eat, because he hated eating in the canteen with a passion. Someone was always either staring at him, or trying to talk to him, and he wasn't sure which was worse. He also didn't want to eat in his office, because he honestly thought, you were still there and he didn't want to disturb you. So, he was a bit surprised when he saw you in one of the biggest hangars, where the lights were off and the only sound that could be heard was planes landing and taking off on the tarmac. 

He didn't say anything, just sat about a meter away from you, took a smoothie from his lunch bag and placed it right next to you, wordlessly giving it to you, and started to eat his sandwich in silence. He didn't ask any questions, didn't make any remarks, just... kept you company, while you couldn't stop staring at the glass bottle, he presented you with. You eventually placed your dad's notebook on the ground and cautiously took the glass bottle into one hand. Even though the intention was obvious, you still weren't entirely sure if it wasn't happening in your imagination. 

- Peanuts...? - you asked quietly, without even looking at him. Your voice hoarse and rough from all the crying and screaming. You honestly weren't sure exactly when was the last time you spoke to anyone. Even your mother wasn't calling you that often, tired of your constant grief; you didn't blame her though. Cyclone only shook his head for no, which you caught with a corner of your eye. 

- Cashews, apples, kiwis, coconut milk and fresh, young nettle. - he said after he swallowed the bite of his sandwich. You still held the glass bottle as if it was about to explode any moment, but eventually you opened it and took a sniff before you put it to your lips and took a sip. It was... good. Tasty. 

- Thank you... - you whispered and started slowly sipping on the smoothie while he continued eating his breakfast. He only nodded once in response, letting you know that there’s nothing to thank for. 

You of course knew him... For the last couple of years, you were interpreting your dad's words in the meetings with him at least couple of times a week. You didn't know much about his personal life though. But right now, he was the right person in the right place, at the right time. His mere presence brought you weird comfort, taking you back to simpler times. 

He finished the meal first, but he didn't go, just reclined a bit, seeking support in the wall behind. He wasn't rushing you and didn't even give you impression that he was in a hurry, so you continue to take small sips of something that had actual sustenance, instead of tea or a single fruit that you could barely stomach. You knew you should be eating more, because you started to see bones through your skin that you weren't able to see before the funeral. The clothes were secondary, because you were mostly wearing your dad's old t-shirts and jackets, which were already much too big for you, but they brought you comfort, and you held to that small piece of support with all your might. but because of that, you haven't noticed how much weight you actually lost. 

So, you were extremely grateful for that smoothie, because you just didn't have the energy to even think about the food, you just didn't know how to show it or say it, so a simple "thank you" had to suffice, at least for now. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed until you finally finished the drink and closed the bottle, but it was at least half an hour, maybe even closer to an hour. You suspected that he had other things to do, yet he was sitting on the cold, metal floor of a balcony with you, as if you were kids who just met in the kindergarten. And if you had to be completely honest, you didn't mind that. Because he didn't do or say anything that was supposed to make you feel better. You were just two people. Eating breakfast. And for the first time in weeks, you smiled... 

He joined you later that day again; you were still sitting on the same balcony, so you weren't exactly hard to find. This time he brought you a wrap with smoked salmon, avocado, sunflower seeds and Philadelphia cheese. He had sushi... And you sat in complete silence again, not even one word between you this time, because even simple "thank you" seemed too heavy for you.

You didn't know why he was doing that, but deep inside, you were grateful. It was your second meal of the day since forever, and he stayed with you till you ate it whole, which took at least thirty minutes, because the bites you were taking were small and far apart. And yet he didn't say a word, didn't complain, didn't rush you... Just sat there and ate his sushi, and after he finished, he leaned again on the wall behind him. It wasn't easy for you to relax, but you at least didn't find his presence overbearing, which was progress. 

Small, yet somehow significant. But Rome wasn't built in a day.

After you finished eating, he took the wrapping from you to throw away and left you alone again, saying goodbye with a simple smile.

In the afternoon he brought you hot black tea, a caramel cookie and a blanket, which you let him drape over your body while you were holding thermal mug in your hands. He was really careful and made sure not to actually touch you, because in his mind it was a line, he wasn't ready to cross just yet. He again sat with you while you were slowly nibbling on the cookie and sipping tea. You suspected that the mug he brought the tea in was his personal one, because you seriously doubted that navy had yeti mugs just laying around, but you didn't say a word. Commenting on that would require much more energy than you had left in your batteries for today. Maybe tomorrow... 

This time he didn't bring anything for himself, so he was just sitting next to you with his eyes closed. He was breathing slow and steady, and that quiet, rhythmic sound somehow managed to ground you enough that you finally looked at him. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and shined its rays on both of you... He looked... tired. But at the same time calm and content. You could tell that he wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere, and if he had any worries on his mind, there weren't reaching him this high up. You could see his chest slowly rising with every breath... Unknowingly, you focused on the same things he noticed about you, when he was looking at you sleeping. 

You eventually looked forward again and went back to slowly sipping from a giant mug of tea. You were surprised to learn that it was your favorite - earl grey with bluebottle flowers, with a little bit of honey. You doubted that it was an accident, but you honestly didn't care right now; it didn't matter.

Only after you finished your tea, you realized that he wasn't just sitting there... He fell asleep, and that made you smile for the second time today. You placed an empty mug on his left side, and moved a bit closer to him. The metal floor was getting colder this late in the day, and he was bound to get cold sooner rather than later, so you unfolded the blanket he draped over you, and put it around him as well. If he was tired enough to fall asleep here, he definitely deserved to get some rest. The blanket was big enough that it covered both of you, without forcing you to touch, so you could go back to re-reading your dad's journal in the last rays of sun for the day. 

At first you didn't notice his scent, because the detergent on the blanket was so strong, but it finally got to you, after few minutes of sitting in such close proximity. He smelled faintly of either pine or spruce, and a hint of very good quality soap. At first it distracted you, but it didn't take long for you to stop consciously noticing it. It still surrounded you though... 

You weren't sure what was the exact reason... If it was the heat radiating of the body next to you, his calm and steady breath, the fact that you actually ate today, or maybe the combination of all three, but you eventually joined him and fell asleep, sitting under one blanket with vice-admiral Beau Simpson. 

When he woke up, he didn't know where he was at first. His back and ass were cold, but the front of his body was pleasantly warm. It was dark all around him and he had trouble identifying anything. But finally his train of thoughts caught up with reality, and he realized what, or rather who, was responsible for the additional weight on his thighs. 

He gave his eyes few minutes to adjust to the darkness and he was finally able to see the familiar outline of your head, which made him smile. He still couldn't say what exactly possessed you to lay on him and, but the realization finally got to him, based on the blanket placement. You must have fell in your sleep, without even realizing it, and it made him chuckle a little. He couldn't help but move your hair from your forehead and you took a deeper breath when he did that. He didn't want to wake you up, but at the same time, he knew that it wasn't the best place for you to sleep, mostly because of the temperature, and he didn't want you to get sick. 

But he selfishly didn't move for few more minutes, just taking in your presence. He was watching you from afar for so long, that actually being so close to you seemed... surreal, almost like a dream. Especially in the moonlight that was coming through the giant windows above you. In his eyes, you looked as if you stepped straight out of a fairy-tale to bless him with your company. 

You looked so peaceful and he hated that he had to disturb that, but to his surprise, when he touched your arm and gently shook it, you didn't wake up... You didn't even react in the slightest. 

At first, he wanted to try to call your name, to shake you a bit stronger, but another, admittingly more creepy plan won in his head. 

Very gently he hooked your arm on his neck, turned towards you, and grabbed you under your knees and your back. You weighed almost nothing in his arms, and he could feel your shoulder blades even through the jacket you were wearing. Your head moved forward and rested on his chest, instead of lulling back, following the gravity. He left his mug on the balcony, making a mental note to come back for it later, when you'll be out of his arms. 

He walked slowly and carefully, trying his best not to wake you up. There wasn't a lot of people in the corridors this late, and those who were, suddenly went quiet and found something else to look at. At first, he wanted to get you to his office, but he selfishly didn't want to leave you there alone, and sleeping on the rough carpet didn't sound that appealing... Instead, he took you to the quarters that were assigned to him. It was a small room, with almost no decoration. There was a bunk bed built into the wall, even though he was the only one assigned to this room, a small desk, a wardrobe, armchair in the corner. 

He didn't spend a lot of time here, preferring his house off the base, but this room was still available to him if needed. And today definitely qualified under "if needed". He didn't even turn the lights on because he knew how harsh they were, and he was afraid that you would wake up. 

He gently placed you on the lower bed.

He was torn about what to do next, but he eventually unlaced your shoes, took them off, and placed them under the bed. Not creepy at all. At last, he slowly moved the duvet from under you and covered you with it, even though you were still wrapped in a blanket. But when he was covering your shoulders, you desperately grabbed his wrist in your sleep and pulled it closer to your chest. He tried to gently pry your fingers away, so he could climb into the top bed and fall asleep, but you didn't want to let go.

He honestly considered climbing in the bed with you for a moment, but Solomon's voice slapped him over the head and instead he sighed heavily. Without moving too much, he grabbed a cushion from the armchair and placed it on the floor next to the bed. he also grabbed a pillow from the top bunk and did his best to find the most comfortable position while sitting on the floor. He eventually unbuttoned and loosened his collar. In the ideal world, he would be able to take his shirt of completely without waking you up, leaving only his t-shirt... That was a lie... In the ideal world, he wouldn't have to worry so much about you because you wouldn't be grieving... He also took his shoes off and put a pillow on the shoulder that you were currently trying to pull closer, and rested his head on it, trying to find the best angle, so the edge of the bed wouldn't be stabbing his ribs.

He looked at you one last time before closing his eyes and focused on your breathing for a moment.

It was calm and steady, which told him that even though you were clutching his arms like a lifebuoy, you didn't have a nightmare; at least that's what he was hoping for...

You woke up in an unfamiliar place, yet somehow you felt calmer than you felt in weeks. At first you didn't even want to open your eyes, in fear that if you did, that bubble of serenity would disappear in a blink of an eye. So, you laid there without even moving a finger, allowing yourself absorb every second of that bliss. 

Only after good five minutes you realized that you were holding someone's hand and your eyes shot open in a slight panic, which only grew when you realized your current position. 

Vice-admiral Beau Simpson was sitting on the floor, draped over the edge of the bed in which you were currently laying. Your heartrate immediately jumped, and your brain slowly started to fill in the blanks with the most rational possibility. You fell asleep. He took you to this room so you could sleep in the bed. But you didn't let him go... 

So, he slept next to you. On the floor. In a very uncomfortable position. 

It must have been very early, because the sun wasn't fully over the horizon yet, painting the sky with a muted orange color, that filled the room almost completely. 

You took a closer look at his sleeping face for the second time during last twenty-four hours; the calmness of if somehow rubbed off on you, and you weren't panicking anymore... You couldn't place exactly why you were reacting that way to his presence, but you did... And now it was your turn to do something creepy and stupid... 

Without letting him go, you gently cupped his cheek with your free hand and his eyes immediately shot open, but he calmed down when he saw you. You didn't say anything... Instead, you pulled him towards you, and moved closer to the wall, making space for him under heavy duvet in the very narrow bed, and he followed... Like a puppy on a leash... He climbed into bed with you, ignoring all the sirens in his head.

You let go of his hand and he pulled the covers over both of you, and just as he was beginning to feel unsure about what to do with his limbs, you took his arm again and guided it around your body, letting it rest on the top part of your stomach, and covered it with your own. After that his other hand easily found a place under your pillow and his left ankle rested on top of your right. 

At this moment in time, this was the only thing you needed from life... 

You didn't even realize how quickly your breaths synchronized, lulling both of you back to sleep. 

When you woke up for the second time, the sun was high up, and he was gone... You couldn't help feeling a bit sad. You knew that he had to work, and there were total of... 12 words exchanged between you two. But to your surprise, that sadness had a different taste than the one you felt constantly for the last two months... But you knew that if you started analyzing and dissecting it, you would spiral again. 

When you turned around and looked around the room, you noticed your bag resting on the floor next to the desk, your dad's journal on the desk, and a another glass bottle with a short "no peanuts" scribbled on a post-it note stuck to the side of it. But... you didn't want to get out of bed just yet. Your rational brain was screaming at you that you definitely should, because you were already abusing vice-admiral's hospitality. Not to mention that you used his body... Well, not in the most obvious way, but still... On the other hand, he wasn't exactly yelling at you and protesting. 

So, staying in bed it was... 

But first you took your jacket off and hung it over the ladders edge. You also took of your jeans and socks because it was extremely warm under the duvet. It definitely wasn't navy issued and even only in your underwear and your dad's much too big for you t-shirt, you were hot. But it was pleasant, because for the longest time you were always cold... It was partially to the fact that you weren’t eating enough, and partially because you were... well... depressed. So, you welcomed that warmness with your whole heart, covering even your head, leaving only a small gap for the oxygen to come in. 

It wasn't long before you fell asleep again, surrounded by a very subtle pine or spruce smell. 

Next time you didn't wake up on your own... Vice-Admiral Simpson was kneeling next to the bed and gently moving your hair from your forehead. 

- You need to eat something... - he whispered quietly. He didn't want to wake you up, but when he came back with lunch and saw that you didn't even touch your breakfast, he got a little bit worried. You wanted to shake your head for no, because you already ate so much yesterday, and you were still full from that... Sleep sounded much better than eating. But instead of refusing you ended up following his nods. - Just a quick small meal, and you can go back to sleep, ok...? - he asked, but it wasn't a request. You propped yourself on the wall behind you and took a glass bottle you saw earlier from his hands. 

It took you a good minute to hype yourself up to actually take a sip, but when you saw relief on his face... Well... It helped with every sip that followed the first one. 

He stayed with you until you finished the whole smoothie and gave you a gentle smile when he took the empty bottle from your hands. You moved your pinky just by few millimeters, so you could touch his hand. You weren't entirely sure if you did that consciously or subconsciously, but he didn't pull away for few more seconds, allowing the touch to linger. 

He wanted nothing more than to climb to bed with you again and protect you from both the outside world and what was happening in your mind, and you were so naively allowing him to do so... He couldn't help but feel like he was taking advantage of you, but you were a fully grown woman... Much, much younger than him, but still.

He wanted to tell you how much of a good girl you were for drinking the whole smoothie, and how proud and happy he was that you were finally getting enough sleep, but that would cross so many lines, that he wasn't even sure if he could count that high. 

You were so obviously depressed and grieving, that even an idiot would have noticed, and instead of getting you professional help, he was selfishly keeping you in his room, feeding you food he prepared and occasionally climbing in the bed with you... 

He clenched his jaw and finally pulled away, breaking this small point of contact between your bodies. And everything would have been fine, if you didn't follow his movements, and kneeled on his bed, and cupped his face with your right hand, forcing him to look you in the eyes. He almost immediately looked away, afraid of what you could possible find there, but you followed his gaze and intercepted it again. 

- Thank you... - your voice barely a whisper, because you couldn’t make it any stronger... Not yet... He only nodded in response and moved away from your hand by finally standing up.

- I will leave the lunch on the desk... It's a crab sushi roll, please try to eat it when you'll wake up next time, ok...? - he pleaded and you simply couldn't say no to that, so you nodded - Also, there is grape juice... - "your favorite..." he wanted to add, but he didn't want to explain exactly how he knew that. But your soft smile told him everything he needed to know. - Do you... want a book? - he asked with one hand on the door handle, and you considered your response for a moment, but eventually shook your head for no. You didn't think you had enough in you to process anything new. He gave you one last, soft smile and you were alone again. 

Usually, it would the prime time for a panic attack, but you stayed calm, grounded by the subtle scent vice-admiral left behind. 

You laid back in bed, and closed your eyes, even though it was the middle of the day, and harsh rays of sunshine would make it extremely hard for a regular person to fall asleep. But you had 2 months of catching up to do. And you were going to squeeze everything you possible could from that bubble of calmness, because you honestly didn't know how long it would last.

Next time you woke up, it was still bright outside, and nothing in the room changed, so you assumed that no one visited you while you slept. At first you wanted to go back to sleep immediately, but you remembered that you promised Beau that you would at least try to eat... With a heavy sigh, you got out of bed; but before you got to the food, you opened a window, to let some fresh air in. What you didn't predict was, that the fresh air was cold. So, you took your lunch and grape juice, sat in the armchair, curled your legs under you and pulled a t-shirt over them. 

It took you good five minutes before you actually took a first bite, and even longer to take the second one... But you kept at it, slowly but surely eating the lunch that Beau prepared for you. And you were sure that he made it because you knew canteen menu well enough to know that they didn't have sushi. If you weren't so cut from reality, you would be wondering what all that meant, but at this specific moment you could find the energy only for slowly eating. And with every bite it was easier to take and swallow the next one. It wasn't a big portion, and yet you still weren't able to eat more than half. 

And this time you didn't go straight back to sleep after eating... Instead, you grabbed the journal and continued reading where you left off yesterday. 

That's how vice-admiral Simpson found you... Curled up in his chair, completely hidden in a tent made from your dad's t-shirt, so even your toes weren't visible, with a very old journal in your hands. One look at the desk told him that you did your best to follow his request, and then was that feeling again... The one that demanded that he tell you how proud and happy he was, but he squashed it before it grew any bigger. 

- I brought you some towels, a toothbrush and a change of clothes. You don't have to do anything, they will just be here, in case you'd want them... - he placed the small bundle on the edge of the desk. He also brought with him a thermal mug full of tea. "I'm sorry I can't stay..." he wanted to apologize while holding you closely in his arms and showering you with gentle kisses all over your neck and chest. Instead, he just put a yeti mug on the desk close to you, and was gone before you even managed to thank him. 

For a few more minutes you tried to focus on your father's handwriting, but your eyes kept wondering to the bundle he left for you. You didn't have to, he said it himself... But you were curious enough to stand up from the armchair and take a closer look. Towel was nothing special... Well, at the first glance. Another thing that might have looked like it was military issued but wasn't. The one you were currently holding in your hands was much, much bigger, and softer than the ones issued in the common area. Inside the towel there was a plain white t-shirt, soft grey shorts, plain black underwear and... fluffy dark-green socks. To say that you were surprised would be an understatement. Not only underwear was in your size, but you couldn't help but wonder where he got the socks from. You gently run your fingers through the soft material, and you couldn't help but smile. 

Now you definitely had to take that shower. 

You correctly assumed that the second door indeed led to a very tiny bathroom. You took your clothes off, folded them neatly and stepped into the shower. Both the water pressure and the temperature were perfect, and you spent much more time in the bathroom than you initially planned. It was spruce, not pine... you realized when you saw the shampoo on the small shelf. He was using a natural, spruce scented shampoo... And now you will smell like him... 

You dried yourself with a towel and put on the clothes he gave you. Both shorts and t-shirt were too big for you, but you honestly didn't mind. You did your best to dry your hair, but they were still very damp when you left the bathroom. You hang the towel on the radiator, so it would dry faster, and finally put on the fluffy socks. It was such a small thing, and yet it brought you so much joy. Not only they were extremely soft, but they were also in your favorite color. You settled back in the armchair and looked first at the journal and then at the unfinished roll... You sighed heavily and reached for the latter. 

It took you more time than taking a shower to finish your lunch, but you finally did, after which you got up again to wash your teeth. You noticed that he gave you the same toothbrush as the one that was in the cup on the sink, and since you didn't want them to mix up, you just placed yours on shelf next to the mirror, which you avoided more than a plague. 

All that food and hot temperature started to knock you out and you climbed back to bed, hid under the covers and almost immediately dozed off. 

When Cyclone came back to his temporary quarters, he felt that nagging feeling again... You not only ate everything he left for you, but also found enough energy to take a shower, which he knew must have been huge, ever since you stopped running on that harmful autopilot and had to actually think about what you were doing. He took one look at you and the warmth spilled inside his chest... You were laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, smelling like him... He couldn't help that feeling of possessiveness that crept in and demanded that he marks you in so many more ways, but he squashed it again. Now was not the time... And he was better than his basic instincts. 

So instead, he went to the bathroom and took a quick cold shower. He noticed with a soft smile that you kept your toothbrush separated from his; he should have thought about it earlier and bring you one that didn't look like his, but still... A very small thing, yet it left a mark that you were there. 

You didn't wake up to the quiet hum of the water, or when he took a fresh set of clothes from the wardrobe to wear to bed. And before he climbed up to the top bunk, he took one look at you, only now noticing that you were shivering. He quickly closed the window and put the duvet over you. He wanted to kiss your forehead so badly... but he didn't, settling on tucking your hair behind your ear, so he could see your face better. You looked... a bit more like you today, than you did yesterday. 

He sighed softly and finally climbed in the top bed. 

You knew that something was wrong before you even woke up. Your heart was pounding, your hands and legs were shaking, your cheeks were completely soaked with silent tears, and when you finally woke up, you couldn't catch your breath. You tried to stay as quiet as you could, while attempting to take gasp after gasp of air, but your lungs just weren't cooperating. You knew what it was, you knew how to deal with it in theory. Yet when it came to actually calming down... You were desperate... 

You got out of your bed and as gently as you could, put your cold fingers on Beau's shoulder, which jolted him awake. And when he saw in what state you were in, you didn't even register how he got down; you just felt his arms pulling you to his chest and surrounding you from every angle. His embrace was strong enough to ground you in reality, and his scent only amplified that. You were openly sobbing into his shirt, not really caring about the potential consequences. You didn't register when exactly he sat on the lover bunk, and pulled you with him, letting you curl up in his lap, with his arms still tightly wrapped around you. He pressed his cheek you your forehead and was whispering something you didn't understand in your current state, but his voice alone was enough to pulled you out of that spiral and try to match his breathing, even if that hurt your lungs in the short term. You knew from experience that it was the best option to pull you out of that self-loathing spiral. He realized what you were trying to do and started breathing a bit quicker so it would be easier for you to match that tempo, and only after you did that, he slowed down again... 

Only now you started to process what he was saying to you... How well you were doing, what a good girl you were, how brave you were, how he was proud that you started to calm down... You weren't even sure if he realized what he was saying, because as soon as you went stiff in his arms, he immediately stopped, as if it hit him too. 

The rational part of your brain was screaming at you that it wasn't normal and that you should get out, but everything else was telling you to stay near him at all costs. You weren't sure if you were getting addicted to him or what any of it meant... You just knew you felt safe, and for now... That was more than you could have said about your own home. At this specific moment, you didn't give a shit if he was using you, or if you were using him, because it just felt so good... not to feel numb.

- I'm sorry... - you mumbled against his skin, still clinging to his shirt with one hand, as if you were afraid that if you let go, all of this would disappear, and you would be alone again. 

- Shhhhh... It's ok, it's ok... - he started to gently rub your back and pulled you even closer, which you thought was impossible... - What do you need, babygirl…? - a pet name left his mouth before he even realized that it started forming on his tongue, and when it reached your ears, it was already too late. For both of you... 

- Just... Don't leave... Please... - you finally whispered, and he could swear you would be able to hear his heart break for you... You needed so much more than he felt he was able to give you and it broke him, but heavens and hells be damned, if he didn't at least try. 

- I'm here, I'm not going anywhere... - he whispered against the top of your head. - Just let it all go, I'm here to catch you... - he said and that was enough for you to start sobbing again, but this time not because of the panic attack... 

After two months of suppressing everything you possibly could, you finally felt safe enough to actually let some of those things go. It was stupid and small, but you were slowly accepting one small thing after another... You will never get a message from your dad wishing you a good day. You will never wave him goodbye from your childhood bedroom when he'd be leaving to DC or somewhere else... You will never clean up after his botched breakfast... You will never sneak into his workshop to scare him. Never fight with him about your non-existing parking skills. Never watch him start a fire in the fireplace. Never get a handwritten letter from him on your birthday. Never bicker with him about the correct way to store chopped wood. Never sing another Christmas song with him...

So many small things that clumped together into one giant monstrosity that consumed every aspect of your life, and letting it go in one move was simply impossible. So, you slowly chipped away one thing after another, spent a short moment holding it close to your heart for the last time and finally let it go...

You couldn't stop crying, but a moment came when you run out of tears, so you ended up quietly sobbing into Beau's shirt, clinging to him, as if he was the last thing on Earth.

And he didn't lie... He was there to catch you when you were falling. Every time you started sobbing harder, he gently soothed your back, started whispering sweet nothings straight into your ear, and what was most important, he didn't let you go, not even for a second. 

Both of you were lost in time, holding each other to give and receive comfort you both so desperately needed, just for entirely different reasons. 

It took him a moment to realize that you passed out from exhaustion, because after a while, you started to sob without making any sounds, only shaking against him from time to time... He dried your wet cheeks with his thumb and just looked at you for a long moment. The sun was getting ready to raise up again and started creeping into the room but wasn't reaching the bed just yet. He no longer gave a fuck about what was proper and what was not... Not when you broke in his arms, and he couldn't do anything more than just not let you go... He laid you down and he couldn't believe how peaceful you looked after what just happened. 

Before he joined you, he lowered the blinds and shot a quick message to Solomon, so he'd be able to keep his promise to you. It was dangerously easy for him to slip into bed next to you and find the perfect position to wrap you in his arms and pull you as close to him as humanly possible. In your sleep you grabbed the front of his shirt and tightened your fingers around it, and he didn't mind that in the slightest. He rested his face in your hair and was content with just being surrounded with your scent, which was dangerously close to his own now. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and felt your fingers relaxing a bit, but he didn't do that again, afraid of what he could do if he'd start moving that line further and further away. 

He wasn't able to fall asleep for the longest time, because he was afraid that you might wake up in the middle of another breakdown, so he just laid there with his eyes closed, listening to your breathing mixed with familiar sounds of a military base waking up... Somehow this tiny room became its own microcosm in the last 24 hours, and it felt like it was disconnected from anything else, despite being so close to, well... everything. He could hear the laughter of young pilots, running water somewhere far away, people complaining about the breakfast. And yet, all of that felt at least few universes away, when you were in his arms. But finally, this part of the base became quiet with everyone getting to their duties, and only now he was able to doze off... 

Part 2

A/N 2: Please don't feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. But I would really appreciated if you commented :) Love, G.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[fayrinferno]

The (printed) collection

From time to time I get a question like, "do you have this or that book?" So, a few weeks back, I finally took them all out of their hiding place and grabbed some photos. Wish I had used my camera instead of phone, I had to stand on a chair to get it all and yeah, the picture is not the sharpest.

Anyway, I have some other stuff, figures and such, although I admittedly DO focus more on books as an artist/writer/translator. These books are the ones I translate from so I wasn't going for mint conditions, although a few of them are. You can see some of them still packed in the store bags. I included the CDs cause... well, they were next to the books and they do have some printed material as well.

The Shiren Suiki book gets a separate photo cause after taking the photos at home I realized I had left it at work when I scanned it... practically crying as I did cause it was barely opened when I bought it and it's a beautiful book. My Anvils are also very fragile.

I may do a complete list one day but for now, here are the quick descriptions.

ARTBOOKS & FANBOOKS I have pretty much all of the major official books I think, missing maybe 1-2 pieces. The one that may look less familiar is Hiroshi Osaka's personal artbook. I also have four of the relevant Nobuteru Yuuki artbooks. The bottom right one with the orange title is the issue of Newtype Magazine with a feature about Esca.

SMALLER BOOKS (let's pretend that's a category) Here I got all the novels (they are out of their sleeves cause I was working on them), all the filmbooks, Secrets of Escaflowne, Escaflowne Bible, and the Energist Memories manga/doujin collection.

DOUJINSHI I was mostly going for stuff I haven't seen online so I only got a handful. Besides the Shiren Suiki book, there are three Minato Tajima doujins (one of them is racy heh but I'm not hiding that I have it). One of the other doujins may look unfamiliar; it's a compilation book that includes other series (the character on the cover is from DN Angel). People who talk to me on Discord probably recognize the Nanoka doujinshi cover.

CDs AND THE LIKE I don't have all the soundtracks for some reason, probably cause I thought the missing ones wouldn't be hard to get. The PSX game is the special edition with the tarot cards. The LDs that I literally bought just for the covers and inlays. I also have all the audio dramas, some CDs with extras... and a phone card that was for some reason packed in a CD case lol (kidding, it's precious that they would give it that kind of protection). Oh, and there are two movie posters which I guess don't fall under either category.

I have some other stuff that is kinda related to Esca "by association" such as by artist or things that "looked similar" but I didn't include them. Also the figures. I may update this post with those but this is the brunt of it. I will be posting some goodies from these soon!

Same goes for the ongoing translations that I've been doing updates on in this post. Life is too short to delay them for months and years because of perfectionism, or rather, being self conscious about one's imperfect language skills. I am thankful to everyone who has helped me so far, proofreading my translations (coverteyes, pikafwance, sevenstars, and radical-rad1986)... I'm not tagging you guys but know that I'm VERY grateful, also to the other people who are helping me with other projects). I always had fun working together with you but it's no longer sustainable and I likely bit off more than I can chew. So I will get myself out of the way. There are two books that are almost complete as of today so I will just probably go chapter by chapter. I hope to be done with this asap but also December is a busy month for me so I'm not sure how smoothly it will go. Let's hope it does.

[ladykailitha]

A Holly, Jolly Harrington Christmas

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The next one on our list is: The Reunion verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

Thanks to @bookworm0690 for help with the title.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6

~

The newly blended Munson/Harrington clan was experiencing the Christmas holiday for the first time.

Edie knew to sit back and watch the chaos. Harri and Eddie did not. She braced for the sonic blast that was about to occur in three, two, one...

“What?!!” Steve squawked. “You guys didn’t do Christmas? But how? Why?”

Harri and Eddie shared a glance and then Eddie just shrugged. “Jai was Muslim and I prefer Halloween. You don’t get mocked for Santa bringing you socks instead of toys when it’s a candy free for all.”

Steve blinked at them in confusion and then tilted his head to side. Edie hid a smile behind her glass of chocolate milk. She always thought her dad looked like a puppy when he did that.

Apparently so did Eddie.

“Oh, no,” he whispered. “The puppy dog eyes.” He turned to Harri. “What have we done?”

“Buckle up, buckaroos!” Edie said cheerfully. “Dad’s going to give you two a crash course in Christmas cheer. He’s almost militant about it.”

“I am not militant,” Steve huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “Just very well organized.”

Edie turned to the Munson boys. “Santa wishes he was as organized as Dad, and the fat little elf has magic.”

~

Eddie realized all too quickly that Edie had absolutely undersold the militant aspect of the Christmas mania that overtaken their home. They had decided to move in Eddie’s place (so he wouldn’t have to rebuild his ridiculous setup regarding the identity of Harri’s surrogate mom. They had told him after the wedding to forestall any meltdowns, but Harri had taken it like a champ and understood why there was so much secrecy.

But Eddie was digressing and his spouse was decorating. It had started innocent enough when he put up the first tree in their main hallway. Then second went up in Steve’s office, in the corner of the room. Then the third one went up in the family room. And this one was the presents and for everyone to decorate. Not the other two. Those were just centerpieces.

Steve scoffed when he brought it up. “You mean like the ten foot skeleton that was there only two months ago? Or the dragon that was on top of the house? Like those decorations, my love?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. So, yes. The Munsons had gone all out for Halloween. “Point taken, sweetheart. I will bow to your superior knowledge in this regard.”

Steve nodded smugly. Eddie should have known what was coming next. But he was woefully unprepared.

The train set went up complete with a ceramic Christmas village and its residents. It had working lights on the houses, street lights, and even traffic lights. Eddie had asked Dustin how it all worked.

“Fuck if I know, dude,” Dustin said, “by all rights it shouldn’t. Only Steve in his bumbling way could create such a mess of wires and connections that somehow feedback on each other and still fucking work.”

Eddie looked over at his husband with new appreciation. Because yeah, only Stevie.

Then he learned that there were two Christmas parties. One for the company which was not mandatory, but Steve went all puppy dog eyes and it might as well had been. And the other was the friend and family party.

According to Jeff who had gone to these the last couple of years, was the party. Like Steve hired a Santa Claus to pass out gifts, the food was catered, full professionally tended bar, the works. If Eddie thought the charity gala was obscene, this was that on crack.

The office Christmas party was a blast. Eddie spent most of the time learning new swear words in ASL from Steve’s secretary, Vanessa until her husband Nate dragged her away to meet someone in his department.

Then he spent the rest of the time teaching Dustin the new swears.

Then the day of the Christmas party arrived. And there weren’t as many people as Eddie thought there were going to be. He thought it would be wall to wall with stars like the gala and their wedding reception. But no. It was just friends.

But make no mistake the intimacy of the party did not make it any less grand. In fact, Eddie would have gone as far as to say it made it more intimate.

Eddie slipped his arm around Steve waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. “This has been fun, sweetheart. Thank you.”

Steve flushed with pride. “You’re welcome. I hope Harri is having a good first Christmas.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. He pointed at his son dancing goofily with his friends. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy.”

And then as if called Harri came bounding up to them all smiles. “This is the best holiday ever! Thanks Steve!” He hugged Steve tight.

“You’re welcome, Harri,” Steve said warmly.

Then Harri left the way he came, practically vibrating with joy.

“Betrayal by my own flesh and blood!” Eddie gasped clutching his chest.

Steve shook his head. “As though you don’t have Edie hook, line and sinker for Halloween.”

Eddie looked at Steve for a moment. “Did our children get swapped at birth? Because that is the only explanation.”

Steve just shook his head. This year was the best Christmas he had since his divorce, because Eddie and Harri were apart of it now. And that’s what made it the best holiday ever.

~

Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss