#i might come back to this idea with more to say or more polished thoughts or maybe even a change of heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chlix · 4 months ago

Text

hello christ? i'm 'bout to sin again

vampire! chan x fem! reader: you're a blood donor for wealthy vampires in need of willing victims. it's possible you like your job a little too much

genre: fluff, smut (MDNI)

word count: 6.4k

warnings/tags: oral sex (fem receiving), blood drinking, unsafe sex, seriously like don't do this it's so unsanitary

a/n: i've literally never written smut so i was hesitant to post this, but i liked the idea and i had fun writing it so here it is anyway. i used the name "hyunji" bc this fic only made sense in my brain in third person, but feel free to substitute that name for your own!

Hyunji steels herself as the car she’s in pulls up to the restaurant. It’s an upscale place, with tall glass windows and expertly pruned landscaping on the circle drive. Small light fixtures are placed along edges and curves that make the already tall building exterior look even taller in the evening light. Hyunji has been to some upscale places, but nothing like this. Then again, she’s never had a client exactly like this either. She needs to be on her best behavior.

"He's a bit particular," the woman at the agency told her earlier on the phone. "He's been through a handful of our donors this month alone. I’ve received no complaints from any of them, any everyone was paid well above our rates, but none were asked for a second appointment. I can't give you any pointers for what they did wrong."

If the only consequence of the night going wrong is that Hyunji goes home with a fat paycheck and continues her job search, she’ll consider the evening a success. Sometimes donors are stiffed of their pay entirely or treated like walking bags of meat rather than people offering a service. Sometimes girls don’t come back at all.

That’s the way it goes when you’re dealing with vampires.

But Hyunji loves a challenge, and she'd already signed a liability waiver when she was put on the registry, so she'd accepted the details of the meeting and started getting ready. She’s wearing a black long-sleeved dress with a slit high enough to reveal a good amount of thigh even when she stands. The neckline is low, and the collar frames her collarbone enticingly. No necklaces, no earrings, but a single silver bracelet. She wants to look inviting; not so much done up as...put together. Polished. She doesn’t want to look like an easy meal. Hyunji knows from experience that vampires also like challenge more often than not.

She exits the car and tips the driver in cash and walks up to the restuarant with her coat wrapped around herself and her purse in hand. She approaches the maître d’ with a practiced smile on her face, and he greets her with a polite bow.

"Hello," she greets. "Reservation for Bang?"

The maître d’ calls over another attendant, who leads her to a small room off from the main dining room. A private area. Inside are a few tables spaced far enough apart that they fade away in the low lighting. In the far corner, a man sits staring at the wall, tapping idly at his plate. He has dark hair that’s gelled away from his face, and pink, plush lips. He’s wearing a suit, but Hyunji can tell that there’s muscles under it just from the way he holds his body. His eyes are a bright, unnatural blue. Even at first glance, in this dim room, Hyunji can see that he’s breathtakingly handsome. Of course, that's nothing new. Most vampires are. It’s kind of the whole point.

"Mr. Bang," the attendant says quietly. "Your guest has arrived."

The man turns to look at them, sitting up properly as he does. He gave the attendant a staged smile of his own. "Thank you very much, Sohyeon. We'll call when we're ready."

The attendant- Seohyeon- bows and leaves.

"Please, take a seat” he says, and Hyunji removes her coat and sets it on the chair, then sits down herself.

"I hope you aren't too nervous," he says. "But I thought it might be better for us to discuss these things in relative privacy."

"I'm not nervous. I appreciate the consideration."

He nods. "I'm Bang Chan. Though I suppose you already know that."

Hyunji had suspected, but it's not as if vampires are keen on photography. He could be Chan's assistant, or his errand boy. It isn’t uncommon for initial meetings like this, especially with vampires of such high stature.

"I'm Son Hyunji," she says. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise."

"Can I say, I'm a bit surprised you came in person?"

Chan's smile turns a bit wry. "Well, I prefer to make my own decisions about these sorts of things. It's not that I don't trust the other members of my coven. It's just that matters like this are a bit...personal. You understand."

"I do."

"I'm sure they gave you the rundown of my history with your agency. I hope being a frequent user isn’t a mark against me."

Chan doesn’t seem to be overly invested in the theatrics of all this, so Hyunji decides to be frank.

"They didn't give me many details. I was only told that all the girls were sent home unharmed. In this business, that's a victory."

"That's a generous outlook."

"Of course I'm generous. I'm offering my blood."

Chan cracks a smile, and some of the severity in the places of his face eked away. "That you are. I assume you came prepared today ready to be bitten?"

"If the negotiations go well, then yes, I'm prepared."

"Well, then I'll be on my best behavior," Chan said. "And I should probably get you something to eat."

He must press some button under his table, because Seohyeon reappears, ready to assist.

"Do you mind if I order for you?" he asks.

"Not at all." It isn’t uncommon. Diet has an impact on the taste of the blood, and every client has a preference. For her last position, Hyunji had found herself eating much more meat than she normally did and had to pick up running as a hobby to help with indigestion. At another job, she'd been overfed sugar, as if being fattened by a witch. Both of those had been a pain; it had been difficult to maintain her figure when she was practically being force-fed.

Chan, however, orders her a simple vegetable dish and a glass of water, along with a platter of cut exotic fruits.

"You'll need carbohydrates," he says simply. Hyunji simply nods. She can handle being grass-fed. It might even help her cholesterol levels.

Seohyeon leaves to submit their orders and returns later with a single crystalline glass. She doesn’t even attempt to set a glass or plate in front of Chan.

"You have meetings like this here often, then?" she asks.

"I do. I have high regard for their discretion."

"And here I thought I was special," Hyunji jokes, hoping to see that small smile again and being gratified when she receives it.

"Somehow I can tell that you are, regardless of my behavior."

Hyunji sips her drink for a moment, and they sit in amicable silence. Her weakness when it comes to meetings like this is her urge to fill space. She tends to talk when she's nervous, trying too hard to sell herself. She knows better than most that vampires are not a monolith, but generally speaking, they have a much higher tolerance for discomfort that most humans. They value solitude and caution. Hyunji tries to mirror this as best she can, to appear thoughtful, controlled. This too is also a test of her resolve. She can't seem like she would be easy to take advantage of. It’s a matter of life and death.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she finally asks. "You must have some harsh requirements, if no other girls have lasted more than a day."

Chan shrugs. "Sometimes people are incompatible."

"So cryptic. Is decoding your words part of the test?"

"I don't try to be cryptic. It might be hard to believe, but I'm not naturally inclined towards this sort of thing. I find these meetings awkward and artificial."

That's interesting. Hyunji sets her glass of water down. "Artificial, huh? I don't seem genuine to you?"

"It's not you, it's... all of this. The agency, the meeting, the negotiations. It just...gives me a bit of a headache."

"Would you rather chase me as I run screaming down the street?" she asks. "It wouldn't be the strangest thing asked of me."

Chan's eyes widen, caught off guard. "Someone's asked you for that?"

"Yes. I said no, of course."

Chan shakes himself out of his disbelief. "Good. I mean, not good that someone asked you that, but good that you refused. That's horrible."

Hyunji hums. "Part of the job."

"I've heard a bit about it..." he murmurs, then looks directly at Hyunji, voice resolved, focused. "I should have said this when you came in, but you're under no obligation to stay here. At any point in the night you can leave. You won't be harmed, and you'll be compensated for your time. I never want you to feel like you're trapped here with me, whether that be literally, socially, or financially." He seems to want to stop speaking, but continues, "This is what I mean by artificial. If you're in my employ, I feel as if I rob you of safety. It's not a position I enjoy being in."

This is such an unexpected turn of events. Hyunji had always assumed having power over their donors, even if it was just for show, was part of the fun. Yes, her official job is "blood donor," but in practice, she supposes most of her jobs boil down to "consensual victim." She shows up at a designated location after eating and drinking what she’s told, wearing what she’s told to wear, and is bitten. She tells nobody what she’s doing, and her clients often leave as soon as they are finished with her. But Chan says that all those things make him uncomfortable. He only wants her blood.

It’s fascinating. And too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"Is that why you switch donors so frequently?" she asks. "You feel as if you're taking advantage of them?"

Chan's lips twitch. "A futile attempt at damage control, I'll admit."

"It's noble," she says, and she truly means it. "It means a lot to me to hear you say that." She’s silent for another moment, debating. "I doubt this will ease your worries, but I don't do this job as a primary source of income. I'm actually quite well-off. And I didn't get roped into this young and have some traumatic past tied to it. I'd never even met one of your kind until I took my first client, after I graduated college. If you think I'm bluffing, I can show you my bank statements. So being your regular donor wouldn't be you taking advantage of me. I could quit any time I wanted without a second thought."

"I did think you'd done this a few times. Back in your home country?”

"And a few here and there before you. Nothing permanent. I didn't like how they talked to me, so I quit. I would give their names, but y'know. Donor-client privilege."

"Then why do you do this job, if not for the money?"

She smiles. "Because I love it. Didn't I say I was generous?"

"Venom junkie," Chan says in a resigned tone.

"I'm semi-immune, actually," Hyunji corrects. "And I'm not sugarcoating it. I love helping people. I make new blood all the time, so it's not really a loss for me. And even when my clients aren't as wealthy as you seem to be, I still get to have new experiences and try new things. I'm a foreigner, y'know. It's hard to make friends in South Korea." She grins as she leans forward on the table, looking Chan very pointedly up and down. "Also, not to be crass, but getting my blood sucked is so fucking hot. It gets me going every single time."

Chan looks at her, face drawn in surprise but in a different way than before. He’s so hard to read, too practiced and trained at impassivity, but he isn’t leaning away from her, so it's possible she hasn’t made any errors so large she couldn't correct them later in the night. He'd wanted her to be genuine? Well, this is as genuine as she can get.

Seohyeon returns then, carrying Hyunji's meal and a pitcher of water to refill her glass.

"Leave the pitcher, Seohyeon," Chan says, eyes still fixed on Hyunji. "I don't want to bother you too much. We'll be a while."

Hyunji allows a cheshire grin to overtake her features. She picks up her fork and pops a kumquat into her mouth with obvious glee, relishing the way Chan watches the slide of it all the way down her dark, exposed throat.

They continue their conversation as Hyunji finishes eating. He's not as closed off as he was initially, and Hyunji finds that he's a fairly good conversationalist. His voice is calm and rich, and when he's not trying to fit into the role of "mysterious vampire" he's fairly straightforward about his account of events and memories. As a plus, he seems genuinely interested in her life, or at least the limited parts she tells him. He keeps eye contact with her and asks clarifying questions. When she politely declines to elaborate, he doesn't pry. It's a pleasant change of pace from her usual first meetings, and she has a feeling it is for him too, if his body language is anything to judge by.

The topics stray away from the topic of their meeting, talking more about the facts of their lives and relations, but the charged environment from Hyunji's declaration doesn't dissipate. If anything, it only gets stronger as the night wears on, and Hyunji notices Chan become a bit twitchier, glancing more often at the door behind Hyunji, or at the watch on his wrist. As soon as she’s finished the last bite of her food, Seohyeon reappears, summoned by that elusive button once again. She's already holding the check in hand, and Chan signs it without even looking at it and hands it back to her.

"Shall we go?" he asks. Hyunji nods.

"Thank you very much, Seohyeon. You were great tonight as always."

Seohyun bows politely, but when her eyes meet Hyunji's, she winks. It catches Hyunji off-guard, but quickly enough she's able to return with a genuine smile and a bow of her own. Seohyeon must be the attendant who always serves Chan at meetings like this. It's nice to know that she doesn't think less of Hyunji for being here, or perhaps that she's even rooting for Hyunji to catch him for good. From her high spirits, Chan must also be a good tipper, which is a point in his favor. She finds that she really is starting to like the guy. She already suspected he was decent enough for paying his donors well, but she's pleasantly surprised to find he seems to be an all-around stand-up guy, which is good. Hyunji doesn't like to overstate her importance to her clients, but she does sometimes have qualms about aiding in the continued existence of assholes.

Hyunji gets up, puts her coat back on, and grabs her purse. Chan extends his elbow to her, and she wraps her hand around his arm, jolting a bit when she feels the breadth of muscle hidden under his suit jacket. He leads her out of the room and out to the front, where he calls the valet to bring his car around.

"No driver?" she asks, half-joking, but all Chan says is, "He has the night off."

Money money. It's even more impressive than the private seating.

The drive is short but quiet. Hyunji lets the water settle in her stomach and lets Chan focus on driving. She isn't trying too hard to memorize the route. She doubts he's going to take her to some wizened alley and drink her dry. And if he does, well, at least she’s had a good night before she goes.

They arrive at an upscale hotel after only a few minutes. The car is valeted again, and she once again holds on to his elbow as they walk to the front desk and Chan asks for a room. The fact that he didn't set this room up beforehand is even more gratifying to her. It feels like winning. She's going to get dinner and a show. It's her ideal evening.

Chan hands her one the key cards and they go to the elevator. His hand resting on hers is heavy, and not particularly cold. Up close, she can see the pink of his lips and cheeks is not makeup, which means he's nowhere close to starving. He just wanted to have her that bad.

This is what she loves about it, truly. The power over the vamps who dine on her. The juxaposition almost has her feeling heady.

When they get to the room, Hyunji excuses herself immediately to the bathroom, as the water she drank has finally caught up with her. When she's finished, she looks at herself in the mirror as she washes and dries her hands, making sure everything about her is still in place. It's not that she thinks Chan would care, persay. But she's sure he'll get more satisfaction from ruining her himself.

She exits the bathroom and closes the door behind herself, so she's standing before Chan, shoes and coat gone. He's sitting on the bed, and his suit jacket is discarded, giving her a clear view of his broad shoulders and large chest. He eyes her hungrily, looking her up and down with no apology, and Hyunji doesn't even care if he's thirsty for her blood or for her flesh. She'd be happy with either.

Vampires being hot is a part of the gag, true, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy it while she's here.

"So," she asks, still standing a respectful distance away from him. "Feeling thirsty?"

Chan lets out a little laugh. "Honestly? You have no idea."

A little thrill goes through her at the rasp in his voice.

Still, honorable as he is, he offers her one last out. "If you don't want to do this, I can leave right now. I'll give you your pay and you can stay in the room. I don't expect anything out of you."

"I know," Hyunji says. "And again, I appreciate the out. But I want this. I consent to donating to you tonight."

Chan lets out a long breath and beckons her closer. She follows, walking slowly, and when she meets the bed, she crawls onto it so that she's on her knees in front of him.

"Where would you like me to take from?" he asks.

"Wherever you want," she says. "If you're uncomfortable, you can take from my wrist. But I wore this dress for easy access. Both to my neck and my thigh."

"You really weren't kidding about thinking this is sexy," he says, breathless, like he can't believe it.

"Do you live on planet earth? Everyone thinks vampires are sexy. A lot of people are just also cowards. But I'm not. And I don't think you're going to bleed my dry and leave my husk in this hotel room, are you?"

Chan shakes his head no.

"Then what's to be scared of? Is it a crime to enjoy my job?"

Chan lets out a low breath, almost like a laugh. "You're something else, aren't you?"

"I guess I am." She leans back a little, pulling herself back into her composure. "But as I said, this is meant to be enjoyable for us both. If you'd like to just drink from my wrist and leave, that's completely fine. It's not like I go around fucking all my clients. I'm capable of being professional."

"I feel like we crossed the line from professional a while ago," Chan says. "Which is my fault as much as it's yours."

Good. She was worried she'd been coming on far too strong.

"So what's the plan?" she asks again. "How do you want me?"

Chan's fingers twitched again as he scanned her up and down. "Can I touch you?" he asks.

"Yes."

In an instant, Hyunji is flat on her back, and Chan is above her, boring down on her. Her heart rate goes crazy, seeing those eyes in the shadows, the eyes of a predator. They look electric blue, hypnotic.

"I'm going to hold you right here, and you're not going to look at anyone except me," he says, his voice lower than before. "I'm going to suck your blood. And then I'm going to eat you out." His hands tighten around her wrists, and she sees the veins in his neck pop and oh god, oh god-

He's waiting for an answer, ever the gentleman. She swallows harshly and says. "Be my guest, Mr. Bang."

Chan leans down and connects their lips.

Just like she'd gathered from his hands, he's warm. Over the years, she'd gotten used to the colder body temperature of vampires, about the uncanniness of how they feel against her. She associates it now with being part of the experience, and can look past it, especially when her client is this good-looking. But here it's barely an issue. Their lips press together, and it's almost like kissing a human. As long as she doesn't think about the fact that she can't feel a heartbeat even though he's less than an inch away from her.

He licks into her mouth, and she lets him, opening her mouth wide and swallowing her gasps. Heat is spreading through her, arousal swelling all her blood vessels, and she knows the moment he smells it from how his grip tightens even further, from the growl deep in his throat. His lips trail down from her mouth to her neck, and she leans her head back to expose it more fully. She's sure he can see her heartbeat in her carotid from the way her blood rushes in her ears.

"You smell...so fucking good," he says in between heavy breaths. "Even in the restuarant...you were driving me crazy."

He sucks at Hyunji's neck, and she moans, hands straining as she tries to arch up. One of his hands releases hers and comes to grip her jaw, pushing her head to the side as he zeroes in on her neck. She can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, like a cat gearing up to pounce. She can't see his eyes, but she knows they must be dilated to black pools.

"Last chance to back out," he murmurs, lips millimeters from Hyunji's skin.

"Bite me," she says.

She sucks in a breath as his lips graze her skin. Then he bites down.

Hyunji knows that she's semi-immune to venom. She has the doctor's notes to prove it, and the experience with vampires to believe them. But there might be some truth to Chan saying she's a venom junkie anyway, because the initial bite alone is orgasmic. Her mouth drops open, her body stiffening and arching under him as she sucks in a quick breath. The smell of her own blood fills her senses, the familiar ochre and iron wafting around them hypnotically, and her thoughts zero in on the feeling of Chan pressed to her neck, of his large mouthfuls, the iron grip he has on her, as if she would even dare struggle.

She knows she tastes better when she's aroused, but it also feels better when she's willing. And oh, god is she willing. For a moment it feels like she's never wanted anything more.

Chan drinks greedily, completely at odds with the composure he's been maintaining the whole evening. It's so satisfying she thinks she might just cum again from the way he's pulling at her, the way he obviously wants her so badly it's taking all his self-control not to rip her apart. And what a way to go, really. The epitome of dying happy.

The lightheadedness is only barely setting in when he pulls off her, releasing both her hands and her head. His lips are stained red, and his cheeks are flushed. She can see, even with his blown pupils, how hazy his eyes eyes are. His grip on her wrists hasn't faltered for a second.

"Fuck," he says, but even that is far away. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," she says. "Come here."

She grips his jaw and pulls him down, and he goes easily, connecting their lips in a messy swirl of blood and drool and venom. She can feel the tang of it still as his fangs are still prominent in his mouth. They're large, and she feels the tip of one cut her own lip, blood pooling between her teeth. Chan pulls away with a moan.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, licking his lips, absolutely blood-drunk. "Fuck. Want you so bad."

"And you're fucking gorgeous," she says. "So in-control. You gonna take care of me, Chan? You gonna make me feel good?"

That rumbling starts in his chest again, and Chan is on her again, his full weight pressing down on her, stealing the breath from her lungs. Vampires always weigh more than you think they would, and Chan is heavy with her blood. His skin is burning, almost feverish. It's so monstrous. It's so fucking sexy.

"Gonna eat you out so good," he murmurs against her lips. "Gonna make you scream."

"God, please," she whines. "Please. Want your mouth. Wanna cum so bad."

Chan abandons her lips and shuffles down the bed to the curve of her hips. He doesn't have to push her dress up that far to have access, and he doesn't even bother to actually remove her panties, instead pushing them aside and diving in. His fangs are still extended, and the slick feeling of bone against her labia sends a thrill of fear down her spine. What if he cuts her down there? Will he start drinking from that too? Her juices and blood mixing together for him? The fear only makes it more attractive, and she pushes down into his mouth, wanting more, wanting him deeper. His tongue is so wet, so rough, his fingers on her thighs are gouging holes into her skin, they must be, but she doesn't make him stop, she just heaves in haggard breaths, begs him to keep going.

His tongue swirls around the head of her clit and then takes it into his mouth and sucks. The twine in Hyunji's stomach snaps, eyes rolling back, and her breath pushed harshly out of her lungs in what is, admittedly, closer to a scream than she thought she'd get. Her vision is hazy for a moment, head full of roaring and fog as she recovers from both the blood loss and the intensity of the orgasm. Chan pulls away from her as her body goes lax, and she can hear him breathing in deep lungfuls of air. It doesn't occur to her for another few seconds that he doesn't even need to breathe. It's cute. She loves it when they still have vestigial impulses.

Time is murky for a while. Hyunji doesn't feel Chan get off the bed and step away and is only dimly aware of hands on her neck, something cooling brushed under her skin. Her head is a mess, she doesn't know which way is up. She's no stranger to this feeling, though, even though it's rarely so strong. She just breathes through it, and lets her body do what it must, and slowly, everything begins to settle back into focus.

When she opens her eyes, she's still lying on the bed. There's no one with her, but she can feel eyes on her. After another minute, she feels alright to sit up, and is proud that the dizziness doesn't seem too bad. Apparently, he hadn't taken as much blood as she'd thought.

Chan is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He'd been looking out the window before, but his eyes snap over to her when she moves, and in a second he's by her side, arm around her back so he can help her into a sitting position against the headboard.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. His hair has gone astray from it's perfect placement, and his cheeks are still flushed, but his eyes are back to normal now, present and assessing and nearly human in its clear concern.

"I'm fine," she says. It feels like a gross understatement considering what’s just transpired.

"I didn't mean to take so much," he says apologetically. "I didn't think I'd lose control so quickly."

If this is what Chan calls losing control, then Hyunji pales at the thought of what he'd say if she explained some of the encounters she's endured.

"You stopped yourself even before I would've," she assures him. "I'm barely dizzy at all. And my shakiness is just as much from the orgasm as the donation."

"You're sure?" he asks. The 180-degree shift from his earlier persona is as surprising as it is pleasant. His concern is adorable, and it seems so genuine. She finds herself smiling genuinely herself.

"I'm sure. I'm completely alright. I should, ah, probably eat something though."

"Yes. Of course."

Chan jumps up to grab the hotel phone and call for someone, and Hyunji takes stock of her body. There's a bandage over her neck and some form of antiseptic has been put on her lip. She can taste the medicinal tang. The area between her legs also feels wiped down where it's now covered with the drapings of her skirt.

Probably to clean up the blood, she thinks, remembering the frenzied state Chan had been in when he went down on her. God, she really was crazy. She hated being treated like fresh meat, but she loved it when they pretended like she was.

As her strength returns, she sits up properly, with her legs curled beside her. Chan goes to the door to get the food when it's delivered, and Hyunji accepts the small platter gratefully.

"I'm surprised the kitchen is still open," she comments.

"This is Josun Palace. The kitchen is always open."

Hyunji shrugs and eats her offered food. Chan still seems anxious about her state, but as she converses with him nonchalantly, he seems to believe in her good health, and the nervous energy fades.

Finally, after Hyunji has again finished her food and water, Chan says, "I should be off."

The disappointment hits Hyunji like a freight train. Maybe she'd been imagining it, but she thought that this had been going well. She had good blood and a good body, and he'd seemed to think her pleasant enough. She's old enough now that she shouldn't still be surprised when she reads vampires incorrectly, but this one stings, not just for the loss of a job, but for the loss of Chan, who she'd started to genuinely like at some point during the evening.

"If you must," she said, trying not to sound too put out. "I know you must be busy."

Chan looks a little torn. "Would you prefer I stayed?"

"I don't expect you to do things you're not comfortable with," Hyunji parroted. "If you've finished with me, you have every right to go."

"Hyunji, I didn't mean..." Chan sighs, takes a breath. "I just don't want you to feel as though you're trapped here with me. You've done your job as well. You can ask me to leave at any time."

"I'm not trapped with you. Like I said, I do this because I like it. And I know you're not going to hurt me, unless you're playing a really long game." Hyunji looks him right in the eyes when she says. "You're really nice, Chan. Don't tell my regulars back home, but this has been my best night, maybe ever. I won't hold you here, because you don't owe me anything, but I'm not uncomfortable with you at all."

Chan examines her closely, perhaps to divine if she's lying or not, but Hyunji means what she said. It might be one of the easiest jobs of her entire life, and one of her best hook-ups. No part of her feels like a cornered animal.

"I'll stay until you sleep," Chan offers. "So I can make sure you're okay."

"And then I'll never see you again?"

On this topic, Chan doesn't budge. "We'll see."

Well, if it's the best she's going to get, she'll take it. She sets the tray aside and gets up to use the bathroom, pleased to find her feet aren't the least bit wobbly. She doesn't wash her makeup off, but she does take her contacts out and change out of her dress into one of the hanging gowns by the shower. She'd actually wash herself clean if it wasn't so much effort.

Chan is sitting on the bed when she comes back out, and she's pleased to see he doesn't move as she approaches, just scoots away so she can climb back in under the covers and curl up. Gentle hands come to pull at her chin, exposing the bite in her flesh.

"It doesn't hurt," she murmurs. "And I don't scar easy."

"Junkie," he says, but this time it's affectionate instead of accusatory.

"I’m a professional," she rebuffs, eyes drifting closed. She falls asleep with his thumb still caressing her cheek.

Hyunji wakes up the next morning to find sunlight coming from the bottom of the blinds and Chan nowhere to be found. She groans as she wakes up and identifies the throb in her neck as the minimal venom effect finally wears off, leaving only the pain of the puncture.

She stumbles to the bathroom to remove her makeup and shower and drags back on the same dress and shoes she had the day before. There's a good chance the workers downstairs won't recognize her, and anyway, she's long past feeling shame for reappearing in the same clothes she'd left in. Everyone's done it, and she's not embarrassed of her slutty tendencies when they're so much of a part of her by now.

On the table next to her purse is a wad of cash. She can't begin to estimate how much. It was one of the things they hadn't discussed beforehand, was exactly how much she'd be paid. She assumed something approaching the going rate for her agency, but this appears to be much more. Tucked under the rubber band at the top of the stack is a note from Chan that says, Drink water when you wake up. You were shivering in your sleep.

Cute. Cullen-level creepy, but still cute. Hyunji puts the cash in her purse, checks the room over again, and leaves.

It isn't until the uber drops her off at her home and she's changed into comfortable clothes that she gets a call from Kimiya at the agency again. She runs through a similar debrief as the other girls before had given, that Chan was cordial and polite, that he took her blood and paid her well, and she has nothing more to say on the matter. Kimiya seems frustrated again, but promises to e-mail over the paperwork for their records and tells her to look after her heath. When Hyunji hangs up the phone, she sets it down and folds herself into her living room couch.

Chan hadn't given her his phone number, or any other means of contacting him. She supposes she could easily look him up, but that's against the rules of her contract, and at any rate, it's best not to go looking for vampires when they don't want to be found. Hyunji knows that at least well enough.

"Another notch on his belt," she says to herself. "It's what I expected going in."

She tells herself the lingering disappointment she's feeling is just the venom still in her system and goes to the kitchen to make herself breakfast.

Hyunji gets caught up in her life in the following days. She has "kind of" a job that she "kind of" has to go to, and "kind of" meetings that she "kind of" has to attend. It's nothing serious, and mostly for appearances, but she has nothing better to do with her time, so she goes anyway. By the middle of the week, her night with Chan is at the back of her mind, filed away with all her other patrons.

It doesn't exactly leave her, though. She wishes it would, because it's getting kind of embarrassing, but for some reason the feelings are hard to shake. Maybe it was because she liked Chan, not just as a respectful client, but as a person. Under different circumstances, she thought they would have gotten along well. That's where the loss might be coming from, in truth, not of him as a client, but him as a potential friend.

But vampires don't keep humans around like that. At least, not outside cheesy romance novels and dramas. They stick to their own, and humans stick to their own. Hyunji knows that. Which means she's got to get a grip.

'Getting a grip' lasts two weeks, when Kimiya gives her another call late Thursday morning. This is in line with the usual timeframe. Hyunji doesn't take any medications she needs to detox from, so she's a prime candidate for people who need last-minute donations. The minimum time between two donations is two weeks, so this is the earliest that Hyunji could potentially take any requests.

"Hello, Kimiya," she says, answering the phone cheerfully. "What do you need?"

"I have news," Kimiya says, deviating from the script. Hyunji stops short.

"Oh?"

"Bang Chan wants to request you again."

Hyunji's heart leaps into her throat. "He does?"

"Yes. He wouldn't give much more information than that, but he did specify that this would be in a more casual setting, and that he did not anticipate feeding from you at this time. Of course, this means you also wouldn't be paid for attending the meeting."

Hyunji has a feeling that whether she gave blood had nothing to do with her potential financial gain.

"I'll do it," Hyunji says. "When's the meeting?"

"Tomorrow, Friday, at eight pm. I'll send you the address."

"Perfect." She’s sure she can’t keep the excitement out of her voice. "Thank you, Kimiya."

"Of course," Kimiya says. Then, "What did you do with him? He and his coven have been running through our girls like water."

Hyunji presses a finger against her neck, relishing the feel of the blood rushing under her skin. "Oh, you know. The best strategy is just to have fun and be yourself.”

#skz x reader #skz x oc #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #skz smut #bang chan x oc #vampire bang chan

242 notes · View notes

haza1ll · 4 months ago

Text

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles.

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

#rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanfiction #the neon void #neon void #rottmnt #animation #literally sos what are tags #is this like ao3 or something brother what do i do #PLEASR HELP #rise leo #fanimation #little goober guy #digital art #??? idk

152 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 1 year ago

Note

Ivyyyyyyyy >.< you're the worsttttt(read: BEST) oh my god the thoughts im having abt dilic with a period kink rn. Gawd and he doesn't even know it's a period kink, he thinks it's absolutely normal to do nasty things with his girl while she's bleeding out and feels proud about it that HE can take her pain away

OMG continuing the diluc saga but yan dilic thinks darling's period is the perfect opportunity to finally put his hands on darling. He knows you're in pain so he promises, he's doing this for YOU not him (lies) he'll ease it in gently and make it feel good! Soon darling will forget all about those cramps bc of him him him! He doesnt need to feel as guilty bc he's helping you out.....right? OMG PLS write something abt thissss, it can be any yandere or oc but im going crazy after what u saiddd

Hehe, you're welcome! I began writing this as just a talk, but decided mid-way through to make it a scenario!

a/n: I wrote this before my hiatus and coming back to correct it, I found so many mistakes, it doesn't even feel like I wrote this smh... I did my best to polish it a bit since I can't see myself rewriting it in the future but if you find anything oddly worded just ignore it lol I wasn't myself back then :')

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

I can just see the cock cogs turning in this idiot's head as he racks his brain about how he can help you. Clearly, you're in pain, but no matter how many more times he calls a physician to have a look, they just keep waving off his concerns. It's normal, they say. You're healthy. That's what everyone has to go through.

And yet he sees you writhing and crying in pain—it's breaking his heart!

Pillow pressed to your stomach, tears in your eyes that you can't blink away fast enough before they fall. You're especially irritable, but it hurts him more when you whine and complain; Diluc wanting to help you now more than ever. He's already gone through the usual stuff, the imported water bottles from Snezhnaya and the chocolate from Fontaine. If you utter so much as a craving, he has the servants scramble to get it to you. Nothing is too expensive or too hard to get. You could have asked for the heads of your enemies, and Diluc would have brought them to you with ribbons and glitter if that had helped with your pains.

But alas, it doesn't.

It's been three days, and his nerves are raw, the bags under his eyes dark, and the burden of your health weighs heavily on Diluc. He can't see how things will ever get better. The other times you were on your period were conveniently skipped by business trips, so this is hitting him full force.

"Exercising might help," one of the maids suggests as he forces himself to consult someone more knowledgeable than him.

"Sometimes, my wife likes a little stimulation to alleviate the pain," a vintner chuckles, winking at Diluc as the word of his helplessness spreads. And suddenly, inappropriate ideas get stuck in his head, making him blush like a young lad in love.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Taking a deep breath, Diluc raised his hand to knock on your bedroom door. It was terribly late, the servants asleep and only the eery flickering of his candle guiding him through the night. Most likely, you were tugged in and fighting for your well-deserved sleep, so he hesitated, fist hanging in the air before slowly dropping it to his side.

What he was about to do was not only foolish but also filled him with the same burning in his body as using his vision did. He could feel the warmth sweep over him from his head to his toes, the latter curling in his shoes while most of the heat was throbbing between his legs, aching to connect with your warmth in a less-than-innocent way.

However, these feelings were nothing compared to the agony of the last few days.

If this was what he had to do to help you alleviate the pain, he would. If it was for you, Diluc would do anything in his power, whether to protect or help you. If he had to become a mere plaything so you'd be freed of the pain, then his concerns were a small sacrifice for all the good he was going to do.

Brushing his hair back, Diluc took a deep breath, reminding himself there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If the method the vintner suggested worked, everyone would be happy. And if not, he'd keep searching for ways to free you of the pain. Turning the key in the door lock, he pulled it out before slowly entering your room, ensuring he could give you two the privacy needed in this situation.

To his surprise, you were still awake.

You made a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but when you noticed it was him, you only scoffed, turning away. It hurt when you gave him the cold shoulder so callously, but Diluc knew you were the one suffering at that moment, not him. He could forgive you for being dismissive of him. Your bedside lamp was still on, and he could see you clutching a pillow to your belly, his own stomach cramping up with remorse, even though, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. He loved you as you were, the good and bad days, your misery becoming his own much too easily these days.

Setting down the candle on your table, he walked over to you. But not before locking the door from the inside, just so he could give himself a few more seconds before his approach. Every step cost him a lot of discipline, being near you never having been this hard. Even when he looked confident around you, Diluc only ever felt weak. You made him vulnerable. Desperate. Longing for your love and affection was all he was allowed to do, so even just watching your chest rise and fall set him ablaze.

Pushing off his shoes, Diluc focused on the little space you left at the edge of the bed. It was the only space he could see that was reserved for him, as he didn't deserve to share your bed, in your opinion. Yet, when he climbed in, pulling the cover over himself and snaking his arm around your waist, he was enveloped in your scent, your hair tickling his skin as he breathed in deeply. Had he known that heaven was hiding so closely to him, he might not have waited so long to come and see you.

"What are you--" you complained, pushing yourself away from him. But Diluc's hand had already wandered beneath the pillow, feeling the hot water bottle you kept secured there, only to replace it with his palm. He was just as, if not hotter than anything the servants could procure for you; his body temperature naturally elevated from his vision. It wouldn't burn you, but with his hand hugging your lower belly, it was much more effective and fitting than any appliance might be.

And you fell for it, even if just for a split second.

For a moment, you leaned into the comfort of his palm, the pain vanishing in the blink of an eye. Diluc even caught you sighing briefly before you came to your senses, jolting and pushing away from him, only to get stuck inside the blanket and pressed up against him. Diluc couldn't help but grin, having read your actions before they even occurred to you, but of course, this was a serious matter, so he quickly composed himself.

"H-Hey!" you yelled as his hand drifted lower, his face burying into the nape of your neck. He wasn't there to dilly-dally but to be of service. To help you in your time of need. By the time Diluc pressed his lips to your skin and his fingers between your legs, you understood his intentions as well, perhaps misinterpreted, but clear as day.

He was going to fuck the pain away.

If exercise and stimulation helped others, maybe it would do the same for you. His fingers were met with warm slick, your body flinching when he moved over your clit. Perhaps his calloused hands weren't made for caressing and soft touches but for teasing and stimulating. Judging by how puffy your lower lips were, worked up from days of rubbing your legs together and your panties aggravating them mercilessly, you were in dire need of his help.

"Don't fight it. You're not alone in this," Diluc reassured you as you squirmed in his hold, biting back the salacious sounds of pleasure you were keeping from his ears. You were so mean, keeping every little taste of appreciation from Diluc, knowing how much it meant to him. But he'd endure. Even when your ass ground back against his cock, making it incredibly hard to not focus on his needs as well, he'd put you first in all of this.

When he slipped his pointer and middle finger towards your entrance, a tremor went through your body, a gasp slipping out from between your lips. Diluc never knew how easy it was to get inside another person, greeted warmly and happily by your hole clenching around his fingers.

His kisses became more fervent against your neck, teeth snapping out as he felt like he was losing himself in your scent and warmth. The pushes of his hips against your ass became faster, your cheeks fitting so well around his shaft. You yelled at him to stop, but he barely heard you through the sounds of your sloppy, wet cunt, blood mingling with eager juices to allow him more reach inside you. It was almost as if he could hear them beg for him to go deeper, which just wasn't possible with his knuckles in the way, no matter how much he tried.

Forgotten was the pain as pleasure raked its claws through both of you, and yet, Diluc still heard you whine and sob as he scissored his fingers through your inside. It wasn't enough. He opened his eyes he didn't know he had closed, staring at your expression curiously. All he saw was anger and disgust, your teeth bared and ready to snap, while he could feel your nails digging into his arm. And yet, when he found your eyes, he saw a very different version of events. Lust, desire, longing. You wanted more, and Diluc wouldn't refuse such a request.

Slipping a leg between yours, he pried them apart, spreading you open wide. You gasped, squirming and trying to cut off his access, but Diluc only had to lean back to steal your balance, your body reliant on his while he gained more space on your bed. The hardest part was freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants, the fabric soggy with both your juices as well as his own pre-cum pearling off the tip of his engorged cock.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your wet cunt greeting his eager cock. No imagining of this situation could have come close to the throbbing heat, your walls convulsing around his fingers in eager expectation. Diluc placed his tip against his fingers, planning to slip them out and take the opening to sink into you, but with how wet the combination of blood and juices was, he felt himself slipping away, kissing your clit instead.

And for the first time, you moaned.

It was the sound of angels and everything nice, and he drew his hips back, trying again to fill you with his cock, missing it just an inch. All good things are three, and when he finally plunged it deep inside your pussy, you weren't the only one yowling in pleasure. No matter what he had imagined his first time with you to be, nothing would ever top the mess he caused between your legs, his cock ready to burst as it pulsated violently inside your equally as ready cunt.

He could feel the waves of pleasure going through you, the shudders in your limbs as he began to slowly press forward, kissing the last few inches of his reach. You remained stiff as a plank, but when he pulled out halfway before sinking in deep again, you were unable to keep your mouth shut, an elongated moan making its way to Diluc's ears, letting him know it was the right thing after all.

Immediately, any hesitation fell off him as he dragged his cock out and sunk it back into you. Fingers retreated to your clit, continuing to slip off and assault the little knob over and over while your walls clenched around his shaft, making you feel every one of his throbs and ridges, the heat between you two almost scorching.

Part of him couldn't believe it worked. That he actually managed to help you with this trick. But he'd have been a liar if he said it wasn't a pleasure for him, too. Diluc could never have dreamed about your proficiency in driving him wild, from your hot, puffy pussy wrapping around him to the improper sounds he had never heard coming from your lips before. The blood kept you so wet and loud down there; it was like you were synching your moans with your pussy, sloppy as they were.

It couldn't have been better, a shudder going through you from head to toe, your feet curling as you gurgled. Diluc wrapped his free arm around your throat, pulling you against him and burying his face in your shoulder as you came hard, juices leaking out, red dripping on the clean sheets with the blanket long discarded.

You were gasping for air as he plunged right back into you, waiting but a mere few seconds of yours before pursuing his own orgasm. Selfishly, but unable to stop. Diluc was already too deep in it, quite literally, your orgasm making your inside tight around him, but it posed no challenge with how drenched you both were.

A strained groan escaped Diluc as he buckled, feeling the first squirts of cum shoot out of him before he drew back, popping out of your cunt and covering it in his cum. His tip got stuck on your clit, as his jizz ejected under the pressure of his orgasm, making you mewl as you were once again stimulated. It would be a mess to clean, but it had been worth it.

You two collapsed, spent and dirty, but Diluc slipped his palm back over your lower stomach, rubbing the collection of juices over your soft skin, leaving a red trail. Kissing the side of your head, he was trying to collect his breath and thoughts, barely able to think straight as the feelings of happiness and his relief kept him in a chokehold.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a blissful rumble as he pulled you firmer against him.

But all he was met with was a cold glare and tears in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered instinctively, immediately feeling bad. What had he done to upset you again? Your teeth were biting into your lip as if you were holding back a tirade of screaming, ready to explode.

His cock twitched between your legs, bloody and so, so wet.

"I'll make it better! I promise! I will definitely make it better," he tried to reassure you, dazed with pleasure as he was, unable to see the actual problem with all of this. Your body convulsed in shock as he pressed his tip upwards again, and you gasped loudly as he sunk his inches inside you. This time, he wouldn't fail to make you feel better. And until then, he'd keep going.

All night long, if he had to.

532 notes · View notes

heliads · 2 years ago

Note

whilst requests are open I have an idea to put forth after years of us discussing this man. Harry Hook x reader based on 'the way I loved you' by taylor swift. Childhood friends to lovers, to strangers to lovers again mayhaps? idk babes. Love you though, I hope your requests don't get out of hand again so you can stay stress-free!

eva i love you for sending this in, please let me talk about harry hook. he's insane and i cannot get enough of him

masterlist

You are lying on your bed in a dorm room in Auradon Prep, and if you close your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that you’re somewhere else entirely. Your roommate hung a lantern in the window, and with the glass pane cracked halfway, the light sways back and forth on the ceiling, painting shifting golden silhouettes on the perfectly painted ceiling. If you let the present world fade into the corners of your consciousness, you can pretend there are flaws in the endless pristine magnificence. You could even pretend that you aren’t on the continent at all.

No daughter of a princess should ever be anywhere but in Auradon. That’s the way it should have been, but you ran the second you got the chance and ended up amongst criminals and sons of thieves instead of with other prettily polished girls. Is it a terrible thing to admit that you miss it more than anything?

You shouldn’t, that’s the worst part. You left them willingly. As time passes, though, you’re starting to think that what you thought was one great fight with the so-called lowlifes of this world might have been the greatest time of your life. It’s like fording a raging river; while you’re in the thick of the waves, you think you might drown, but when you’re safe on the dry shore again, all you can think of is the coolness of the water, how the flood had sparkled like a thousand sapphires.

You shut your eyes and then you’re back again, just a kid, happier than you’ve ever been and twice as free. It had been easy to leave, actually, easier than it should have been. In your family, there were enough siblings and cousins and relatives that just one girl could go unnoticed. It’s not that Ariel intentionally tried to blur all of her daughters together in her memory, but it couldn’t be helped. She was one of seven daughters, and you were one of many as well. It wasn’t her fault, no, but it was your excuse anyway.

It turns out that nobody bats their eyes at a mermaid’s daughter when she’s running headlong towards the surf. You dove into the waves and came up to shore miles away. Your mother was terrified of losing any one of her children to the endless sea just as her father lost her to land, so none of you were allowed to stray that close to the beach. Of course you would see how far you could go the second you were unsupervised. Of course you would push the limits just to learn where you would break.

You ended up scaring the daylights out of a boy in a small sailing craft not far from the limits of the Isle of the Lost. You hadn’t meant to go that far, but you were giddy with the feeling of doing something wrong and he was trying to escape as well. He’d offered for you to hitch a ride with him so long as the wind was good. You thought that suited you well enough, so you took the hand he gave you and listened when he introduced himself as Harry Hook.

He said his name the same way you did, emphasis on the first name and not the last. It’s the exact opposite way any child of a prince or princess does, and you think that might have been why you liked him from the start. The sun shone overhead, and you talked to him about running away and taking to the sea and all the things you wanted to do if you just had time.

Neither of you wanted to leave, not really, but of course all good things have to come to an end at some point. You watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky with all the dread of a doomed man going to the gallows. You must have looked seriously unhappy, because you remember Harry laughing and saying that you could meet him tomorrow, if you wanted. You wanted that more than anything, as it turned out, so you eagerly agreed.

Harry took you as far as he could towards Auradon again, and watched as you dove into the water. You can still remember how he’d watched you go, the way his eyes had tracked the water as if he could look at you forever, even after you disappeared from view. He stayed there for a long time before finally forcing his ship to turn around again. You’d know; you stayed there on the ocean floor watching him back until he was gone.

The next day, you slipped away to meet him again, and the next day, and the next. When you were caught trying to go out to the sea sometime in the second month, you fought until you could find a suitable excuse. Your mother was perfectly fine to let you go to some private school by the coast, it would mean one less child to keep track of. The papers were signed and agreements made before you could so much as blink.

You, of course, never went to that school. Instead, you showed up on Harry’s ship just like usual and told him that you wouldn’t be going back. Harry had been talking about a friend of his, Uma, and how she was forming a crew of her own larger pirate ship. You wanted in, and he couldn’t be more delighted to take you home.

You think you replayed the memory of him introducing you to Uma about a thousand times over in your head, and you’ll do it again tonight. The slats of the dock had been slippery under your feet, but you knew that so long as he was by your side, you would never once fall. Uma had looked at you questioningly, blue-green hair cascading down her shoulders, but Harry had hardly been able to tear his eyes away from you.

“This is Y/N,” he’d said, “she’s my friend.” He’d imbued the word with all the hope and grief and joy you could ever possibly attach to such an idea. Harry smiled as he said it, took your hand, let his eyes open comically wide so you’d know he was just joking when he mentioned that he’d jump overboard if Uma didn’t take you on.

Luckily for him, Uma had no problems with you. She saw something in you, the same sort of restless troublemaking spirit the rest of them had in spades. Before you knew it, you were quite literally learning the ropes of how to help out on Uma’s ship.

From there on out, everything was perfect. You watched the sun rise and set from the deck of a ship you could call home. When the weather was good, you spent all night and day out in the grasp of the world, and when the storms raged on, you hid belowdecks with the best friends you’d ever had. They wanted you, not your mother in a younger form, but you. Just you. It was wonderful.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would end up falling in love with Harry. You were hurtling towards that fate as fast as you could, running and sprinting towards the inevitability of it all. No one compared. No one had half as much influence over you as him. And, when he finally managed to tell you how he felt, you thought you might be able to take over the entire world with the sheer force thrumming through your veins.

Perhaps you should have taken that as a warning. The universe doesn’t care much for happy endings, you’ve learned, even for its fairytale heroes. Princesses grow old and fade into obscurity. Princes forget how to save the day. Villains live out their days with fantastic dreams that will never be achieved. You learn how to deal with adequacy, and pretend that it is enough for you.

You loved Harry because he was wild, your untamed, brilliant boy, but then you hated him for it, too. Just once, you wanted to walk into a room and know what he was going to say before he said it. Every word from his mouth was a dagger in your chest. Some days, he was a hopeless romantic, others, he was mad and uncontrollable. He never hurt you, but at least the pain of a blow would be something you could depend on and understand.

Your mother tried to find you about a year or two after you took to the sea, and you used that as your excuse to break up with him. Harry found out you would be returning to Auradon at the exact same time as the rest of the crew. You think he might hate you for it still. You think he would have reason to hate you for a lot, actually, most importantly that you were never quite enough to match him.

So you slipped away from the ship with the worst kind of goodbye, one that you did not mean, and you never looked back. You greeted your mother and agreed when she said that it was time you took up your studies at Auradon Prep. You joined the endless number of would-be princesses and princes and pretended that it was all you had ever needed in life. If you woke up sometimes with the sound of waves crashing in your ears, or felt the steady rock of a ship beneath your feet as you dreamt, you ignored it. Such illusions only belong to the past, and they will never be yours again.

You still have a jacket of his in the corner of your room; you brought it all the way over here, anywhere you go. You never had the heart to give it back. You don’t know that you could if you tried. It still smells like saltwater and laughter and sun-bleached him, and you have absolutely no idea what you will do when that familiar scent fades.

Still, you weren’t able to completely erase his influence on you. Children of villains arrived at Auradon Prep, and instead of running away from them, you befriended them as quickly as you could. Mal thinks like you do, her and the rest. You laugh like them– not quite as polite as you should be, but loud and beautiful and real. You hang out with them all the time and, when they talk about how much they wish they were back on the Isle of the Lost, you lie to yourself that you do not agree.

You never told them the full scope of your exploits, but they know part of it, enough that one day Mal knocks at your door and tells you that she needs your help on a pirate ship. She needs to get something from the Isle of the Lost, a mysterious ingredient for a spell, but they have to keep it a secret so they can’t use the bridge. The next best option, then, is to sail. It’s not a far destination, so it would work.

A thousand memories of sun and surf flash through your head, and you find yourself agreeing before Mal can so much as finish trying to convince you to go along with her plan.

Mal blinks in surprise. “Really? You’re sure? I thought you would have mixed feelings about that time in your life.”

You breathe out slowly, trying to calm yourself. “Certain things scare me more than others.” Certain people, that is.

Mal winces as she leads you out of your dorm and back into the hallway. “Actually, we might have a problem with that.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mal casts you a nervous glance. “Before I continue, remember that you already agreed. I’m not letting you leave now.”

You laugh. “I’m starting to get worried. No, Mal, I’m not backing out. Just tell me already.”

Mal holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Never doubted you for a second. It’s just, well, we don’t have a ship at our disposal, obviously, so we’re borrowing one from Uma.”

You shrug. “I have no problem with that. Uma’s great.”

“Yeah,” Mal says, drawing out her syllables in an attempt to buy herself time, “but she insisted on having a skeleton crew present. You know, to make sure we wouldn’t run aground or something like that. That includes her first mate.”

Your head snaps up. “Harry’s going to be there?”

You can feel Mal’s gaze on you, but you refuse to look at her. Instead, you’re scanning the hallway, every door you pass, sure that he’s going to be waiting for you, leaning casually against a wall or peering out of a window or somewhere you could find if you just looked hard enough.

“He is,” Mal confirms, “is that going to be an issue?”

Yes. “No, I’ll be fine.”

You can’t really tell if Mal believes you or not, but then you’re rounding the corner and the rest of the VKs are in front of you, and the conversation must be dropped as Mal explains her plan. You’re going to join the four of them and Uma’s guys in piloting the ship over to the Isle of the Lost, where you’ll search for a talisman hidden somewhere on the island. Once the talisman is secured, you’ll head back. Easy as that.

Mal leads your group to a boathouse on the southern part of the shore. You take up a position in a corner of the room, hidden by the shadows. You suppose that’s why the pirates don’t see you immediately when they come in a matter of minutes later. You suppose you chose that place on purpose so you could get a good look at Harry without him seeing you.

He looks just the same. You don’t know why you thought he would change, that he would have to look different to explain how different you feel, but he’s the same. It makes a soft smile rise to your lips at the same time as the weight of all your memories pierces you through the heart.

Uma’s talking to Mal, doubt lacing her every word. “I hope you have a good idea of how to run a ship, because I don’t think any of your friends have the slightest clue what to do on the sea. That’s my territory, in case you forgot.”

“I know,” Mal says, temper just as strong as always, “that’s why I brought a friend.”

Harry arches a brow. “What friend?”

“That would be me,” you say, and step out of the shadows to face him.

For a moment, you swear that time stands still. Harry’s breath catches in his chest as he looks at you for the first time in months. He has never been one to show off weakness, always laughing off injury or claiming not to feel pain, but in this instant, you can see the shock lancing through his eyes, wracking his frame until he has no choice but to stand there and stare.

Uma breaks the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a grin. “Y/N, good to see you! I take it back, Mal. Y/N could captain a fleet of ships with her eyes closed.”

It’s easy, after that, to pull yourself together. Uma’s friendship is something familiar, a rock you can stand on. “I appreciate your confidence,” you reply, “good to see you too, by the way.”

“Of course,” Uma says dismissively, then adds somewhat unnecessarily, “Hey, Harry, look who it is!”

Harry swallows hard when Uma addresses him, tries to pretend he’s just like normal. “Yeah, I saw. Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey yourself,” you say quietly.

Evie looks at you nervously, then quickly speaks up. “So, should we get to the ship? We only have so much time before people start looking for us.”

Uma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you guys are too popular, I get it. Ship’s docked outside.”

Harry takes this as his excuse to bolt out, and you watch him go with wide eyes. Evie heads over to you as soon as everyone’s attention is off you again. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” you whisper back through gritted teeth. Of course it is a lie. You couldn’t be more affected by this.

You avoid Harry the entire duration of the trip over to the Isle of the Lost. It’s difficult, especially when you push off from the shore and the wind is on your face again and everything is just like you remember. You tug a few lines into place, tie them down with the knots he taught you, and race to the bow as soon as you’re free.

You forgot just how wonderful it is to sail. You laugh delightedly as the ship picks up speed, skipping over the waves as the wind snaps the sails almost to bursting. This close to the surface of the water, you can’t hear anything, but you sense something anyway, and that’s how you know to lean back up and look to your side to see Harry standing there, smiling as he takes in the sight of you.

Your laugh dries up in a moment and you feel frozen there, trapped in this moment with him. Someone calls your name a second later and you’re able to spirit away to safety, but you can still feel his gaze burning like a brand into your back every moment until the ship docks at the Isle.

Mal announces that you’ll be splitting up in pairs so you can properly canvas the island for the talisman. Before you can look at her or Evie, Uma suggests that you and Harry work together, and the rest are already partitioned into pairs before you can fight it.

Fine, then. You’re certain he’s put her up to this, but you won’t give him a scene if he wants it. Instead, you march resolutely towards your assigned location, and pretend that you’re just really invested in finding the talisman so you can’t hear him when he tries to talk to you.

Eventually, Harry has enough and puts his hand on your arm, trying to get your attention. You spin back around by reflex, dagger in hand and held to his throat before Harry can get so much of a word out. The Isle has always brought out a different part of you, more of a villain than any princess’ daughter.

Instead of looking afraid, Harry just laughs. Usually, this is the time at which you’d join in, but you narrow your eyes and hold strong.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he says when he’s finally able to get his laughter under control, “I don’t think your friends would like it very much if you killed someone on your little vacation to the island.”

You glare at him. “We’re not friends anymore, sweetheart, or have you forgotten that already?”

“When your knife is to my throat? Couldn’t forget that if I tried. Out of curiosity, why are we enemies again? I seem to remember you liking me very well just a couple of months ago.” Harry says, reaching up to tap your forearm where you still hold your blade.

You pull your dagger away but stand there still, thrumming with the urge to run. “We’re too different. You’re a villain, and I’m a perfect angel, obviously.”

Harry grins. “What, just because you’re the daughter of a princess? You’ve never let that come in between us before. You’re not Ariel, you’re Y/N, and I have always loved that about you.” Something like doubt flickers across his face. “Is that why you left? You thought you had to become more like her?”

You glance away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “I left because I had to. We weren’t working out.”

“Why not?” Harry asks, and suddenly he’s the one in control now, he’s the one stepping forward until your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to run, “What was so wrong with us, Y/N?”

Your hands are shaking. Harry takes the knife from you, carefully sliding it back in the holster on your side. His hands linger there a second longer, and when he finally takes them away, you can’t tell if you’re glad of it or deeply unhappy that you can no longer feel him.

“We could never work,” you insist.

“Why not?” He replies, “Show me we could never work. Prove me wrong.”

Harry Hook has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, just as unpredictable as the sea that both of you love, but somehow you know it’s coming when Harry leans forward and kisses you. For a moment, you consider pushing him away, and then you realize that you do not hate this, not him, not in the slightest, not at all.

Surrender is not the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it’s like the release of a sail to the wind, the acceptance that even though you let a person go, they will always come back to you. You surrender the last of your inhibitions and you kiss him back. It is everything you missed, the fighting and the laughing, the good times and the bad all in one. It is all that you love about him and more, what you didn’t realize you held most dear until you were gone.

Harry breathes quietly against your lips and you breathe back, one small circle of in and out and together. He grins, says, was that really so bad? And you laugh and tell him to shut up, so he does, but only by kissing you again. The island can wait, the talisman and the life waiting back for you at school. You have your boy back, and you could not care about anything else.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @/thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#harry hook #harry hook imagines #harry hook x reader #harry hook oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants harry #descendants harry imagines #descendants harry x reader #descendants harry oneshot

2K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year ago

Note

hello ❤️ i hope you're doing okay!

i have an idea that i'm not sure if you've written it before but here goes

reader has low self-esteem and self-confidence due to parents holding her on a tight leash (literally would isolate in a cave before wearing a dress, will always concede in an argument just to avoid being shouted at, maybe even obsessing over a skincare routine simply because her parents told her she'd never be pretty otherwise) and perhaps our lovely eddie or stevie could help her see her self-worth? 🥺

thank you for taking the time to read, and apologies if you've already written something similar 🙏

AN | Eddie would absolutely show you just how wonderful and loved you are! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were meticulous.

Always polished and nicely put together. Never too loud but not completely shy either. Knew when to chime into conversation and what to add. You always seemed to be perfectly happy, despite the situation.

These were all things Eddie knew about you. And in a lot of ways those were all things he loved about you. But what he wanted even more was to see everything that you weren’t showing people. He wanted to know all of you, the real you. He knew you had to be in there somewhere - you wouldn’t have started dating him if you weren’t. He doubted someone truly so straight-laced would even cast a second glance at him.

But here you were, Eddie Munson’s girlfriend. To be fair, you didn’t go out and proclaim to the world that the two of you were dating��your family and co-workers and maybe even some so called friends probably wouldn’t have liked that. But nonetheless, you spent almost all of your time with Eddie.

And you loved him - you really did. There wasn’t anything that you could think of that you didn’t like about him. You might have appeared to be the polar opposite of him, but you were so much more alike than what appearances might suggest. And you knew that things were going to have to change at some point if you wanted this relationship to blossom and bloom to its full potential. Eddie would have to see the real you at some point.

You just hoped he would like what he saw.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sugar,” you could hear Eddie sweetly calling out to you from the bedroom as you tried to keep yourself together in the bathroom. You’d been in there longer than what would be considered normal for simply brushing your teeth and washing your face. You’d started with those intentions but things quickly turned south when you realized you hadn’t brought several of the items you used for your skincare every night, “everything alright?”

The last ten minutes had been spent staring at your face in the mirror, trying to calm yourself. Surely one night of an incomplete skincare routine wouldn't completely destroy your skin, right?

“‘m alright,” you called back, voice small and broken. You knew that Eddie definitely wouldn’t buy that; you hoped he was distracted and wouldn’t notice. You swiped at your eyes and tried to stop the tears from spilling over, “be out in a moment.”

Before you could say anything else, there came a soft knock on the bathroom door. You inhaled sharply, mind going into a panic almost immediately, “can I come in, sweetheart?”

You wanted to say no, wanted to be harsh back so he might leave you alone and give you some space, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. Not to Eddie - the sweet, loving, gentle soul that he was. You sniffled, using the sleeve of your (his) sweater to wipe away the tears that had run down your face before slowly opening the door.

When you faced Eddie, his face turned into a huge frown immediately. The worst part was that for a moment you thought that frown might have been directed at you. After opening and closing your mouth a few times and finding it impossible to say anything, you resorted to the only thing you could think of - throwing yourself into his arms and clinging onto him tightly.

“Shh,” he responded in kind, wrapping his arms around and pulling you into his body. He pressed kisses the side of your head, rubbing your back in gentle, soothing circles, “it’s okay - I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

You mumbled out a response, mixed in with your tears, that he didn’t quite catch - but that was okay. Right now all that mattered was that you were okay and that you knew that he was there for you.

After a few minutes of gently letting you cry into his shoulder, he pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “c’mon - let’s get you outta the bathroom.”

“Okay,” you let him scoop you up as he carried you the short distance to his bedroom. You set you down gently on the warm blanket, reaching up to rest his hand on your cheek before brushing aways your tears. He crouched down in front of you so he could look up at you, a small smile on his face, “sorry for being such a baby.”

“You’re my baby, but you’re not being a baby,” he rested his hands on your thighs, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted softly, dropping your face as your voice almost cracked, “but I do at the same time. I just don’t want you to think I’m stupid or hate me.”

“I would never think you’re stupid or hate you,” he let out an incredulous chuckle, shocked that you would even think it would be possible for him to feel anything but love towards you. He reached up and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes, “that’s not possible. I love you, yeah? You can tell me anything, so long as you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand to your lips so you could press a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “I know that. It’s just…hard. I’ve never had anyone like you in my life and I guess it’s taking longer to open up.”

“I’m not surprised you haven’t met someone like me,” he gestured to himself, causing you to giggle softly, “you can have all the time in the world. It’s not always easy for me either.”

“I just meant…someone like you - caring and loving and so open,” you slid off the bed so you could sit next to him, your knees gently knocking into his, “my life has never been like that. And I guess I just always hold everything in and then as soon as one thing goes wrong, I crack.”

“What happened? That caused you to-”

“Have a stupid meltdown?” you interrupted him but he just clicked his tongue to show that he didn’t agree with your assessment, “it’s so silly. Promise not to laugh?”

“Pinky promise,” he held out his hand and extended his pinky towards you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he was being, but gently hooked your pinky around his.

“I forgot some of the stuff I use for my skincare every night,” you admitted softly, avoiding his big, brown eyes. You cleared your throat at his silence, before offering him a small smile, “and that just caused me to spiral and worry that I’ve somehow ruined my entire face and life. See, it sounds so stupid just saying that out loud.”

“Hey,” he gently nudged your knee with this, “it’s okay to feel that way, your feelings are valid.”

“Even if they’re ridiculous?” you felt another wave of emotion wash over you, but this time a small laugh bubbled up as well. Only Eddie could be so reassuring as you felt like the biggest fool in the world, “because they feel ridiculous.”

“They’re valid,” he insisted softly, “why do you think that happened? Your reaction.”

“Oh my love,” you let out a long breath as Eddie’s cheeks turned bubblegum pink from your endearment, “it’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you with it.”

“I’ve got all night,” he shrugged causally, a cheeky little wink thrown your way, “well, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

“Okay,” you whispered softly, “okay. Let’s just start with the beginning then, shall we?”

“Lay it all on me. I’m ready for it all,” you could have melted at his kindness and the love you felt flowing from him, “just remember one thing.”

“Which is…”

“I’ll love you always. Regardless of what you tell me.”

“Eddie,” you chewed on your lip as your shoulders shook with silent laughter, “what if I told you I was like a murderer or something?”

“I’d be shocked,” he pulled his hair into a bun at the top of his head, a few curls managing to escape as he hummed thoughtfully, “but also kind of here for it. Kinda sexy in a way.”

“Eddie!”

“But I know that’s not true,” he reached for your hands and gently pulled you forward so you’d crawl into his lap. You took the hint and eagerly crawled onto him, relaxing when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “so tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie had meant it when he’d said he had all the time in the world for you. The two of you stayed up until the early hours of the morning talking about everything that had been on your mind for so long, everything that weighed so heavily on you for years.

It all came out so easily and felt so good to finally tell someone. And, thank the stars, Eddie was the right person to listen and offer the right words that you needed to hear. It felt like he was one of the only people that understood you. You had been so worried that once he saw what you were really like, how your mind worked, that he would somehow not like you anymore.

But it was just the opposite - he fell even more in love with you. Which was a feat that he hadn’t thought was possible. But seeing more of your personality come out over the following days and weeks made him an absolute sucker for you.

And yet there was still more hanging on that you needed to change. And you knew that this was something that was going to either make or break some things, but you knew what needed to be done.

“Eddie?” you let yourself into the trailer, finding him in the small dining area, scribbling away in his notebook. He looked up at the sound of your voice, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Hello sweetheart,” he set down his pen and closed the notebook before making his way over to you. He didn’t hesitate before taking your face in his hands and kissing you softly, but with so much meaning.

“Hi,” you were beaming up at him, already feeling yourself melting. He looked you up and down and couldn’t contain his smile; ever since your little heart to heart, he’d noticed that you’d started to dress a little differently - more yourself. You finally felt more free to be yourself, to let your imperfections shine through. You had never imagined that it would feel so good and liberating, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to meet my parents,” his eyes widened as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. He was definitely not expecting you to ask that of him. Not that he didn’t want or wouldn’t do it - he would of course. Eddie was just sure that you’d never even want him to meet them, or vice versa. His silent response caused you to swallow thickly as you shook your head, “never mind - it’s silly.”

“No, sweetheart, stop,” he gently put his hands on your shoulders with a gentle squeeze to try and get you to relax, “I’m just shocked is all. I didn’t think you’d ever want me to meet them. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I know it seems a bit…odd,” your lips pulled into a sheepish grin that Eddie really wanted to kiss. He refrained and decided that he would do it soon enough, “but I’ve been thinking a lot about it and it seems like the perfect time to do it. If not now, then when?”

“That’s a big step,” he couldn’t put into words how proud he was of you. The steps you had been making lately were leaps and bounds above where you had been. He might have fallen just a little more in love with you then and there, “I like it. Look at you go, sweetheart. Nothing can stop you now.”

“Well, I do have you to thank for that too,” you put your hand on his chest and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “couldn’t have done it without you, love. So, what do you think? Will you consider it?”

“I will more than consider it,” he wrapped his arms around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around until you were breathless from giggles. When he set you back down, you almost stumbled into him. You really loved him, “I’ll do it. Just name the time and place.”

“How about Friday night at seven?” you looked at him expectantly, hoping he wouldn’t back out simply from the fact that you had already set a date. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours before nodding gently and brushing his nose against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you,” shivers ran up and down his spine as goosebumps erupted all over his skin. He would never get tired from hearing you say that, “I’ll be there and be on my best behavior.”

“Don’t put on any airs, Eddie,” you whispered, “just be yourself.”

“As long as you’re yourself too,” you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, knowing it would be difficult. It was going to be hard to break a lifetime of being a certain way around your parents and allowing them to see the real you. But you wanted this, you had to do this.

“I will,” you promised, “I will.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It’s going to be okay,” you had rung the bell at your parents house, waiting for them to answer and tightly clutching onto Eddie’s hand. You made a small sound in the back of your throat that sounded somewhere between a groan and cry, “I’ve got you. And if you want to leave whenever, we will. We don’t have to stay.”

“I know,” you agreed. After a few moments of tense silence, you heard footsteps coming towards the door. It slowly opened and you suddenly felt like your heart was going to explode. Suddenly your mother was there, staring down at the two of you. Fuck. You cleared your throat, "h-hi mom."

"Darling," she looked you over before shifting her gaze to your boyfriend. You could see her face falling as she studied him, clearly horrified that this was your choice was of partner. She tried to tone down her sneer but it was no use, "and just who is this?"

"This is Eddie. My boyfriend," you had no hesitation and you could practically see the gears turning in her head, "we've been together for a whole so I wanted you to meet him."

"Edward," she didn't bother to extend her hand or give him a hug (not that you expected that in the slightest). You almost laughed at her, "a pleasure…I'm sure."

"It's just Eddie, ma'am," he offered her a charming smile that she didn't return, "thank you for having me."

She remained silent as she turned to head inside. It was typical behavior and you shouldn't have been surprised. Eddie squeezed your hand as you stepped inside. He stole a few glimpses of the house, trying to see if there were any traces of you. But all he could see were tidy spaces that felt cold and impersonal. He had a feeling that this was what he would find.

"Dinner is just ready," your mother stepped into the kitchen to finish things up as the two of you went into the dining room. Your father was already sitting at the table, the paper held up in front of him as he skimmed the day's news.

"Hello," you held up your hand awkwardly, trying to get his attention. With a grumble he set the paper down and looked up to find you standing there awkwardly, "hello father."

"Who is this?" So much for the formalities, right? You didn't bother to hide your eye roll this time.

"This is my boyfriend Eddie," you gestured between the two of them, "Eddie, this is my father."

"Hello sir," he offered a cheery wave.

"Do you have a job, young man? Do you find it hard to get a job looking like that?" At least he didn't bother to hide his disdain. You opened your mouth to argue back but Eddie gently shook his head.

"I don't sir," Eddie answered confidently, "considering I own my own business - a mechanic shop. And before then it was never an issue either."

Your father's face paled as he kept his gaze turned away. Eddie shot you a quick wink as he pulled out your chair for you. You sat down and tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible.

A tense silence fell over the room, the only sounds to be heard were from your mother finishing up in the kitchen. Luckily, you and Eddie had managed to perfect silent communication and you both had plenty to say to each other. You almost couldn’t control your laughter. You would have never felt this bold or confident without having Eddie by your side. He was able to bring out the very best of you. You could only hope that you did the same for him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the food was on the table and everyone had a plate, conversation still didn’t really flow. There were stunted comments here and there from your parents, but that was the extent of it. You hoped that Eddie could see what you had meant when you’d told him about your childhood and life; these people were as straightlaced as possible.

“So,” and you knew it - something - was coming. You swallowed the bite in your mouth and looked at her with a hard expression, “you’re dressing…interestingly.”

“What do you mean?” you knew exactly what she meant. You’d been expecting her to ask something of the sort. You looked down at your outfit, which to be fair was still nothing shocking. It was a short black slip dress under which you had a white t-shirt on and a pair of docs on your feet. Hardly edgy but different than what they’d come to expect of you.

“It’s just so…garish,” she raised an eyebrow as Eddie choked on his bite as he tried not to laugh. You barely managed to hide your own laughter as you patted his back, “what kind of impression are you trying to give off?”

“This is hardly garish,” you snapped back, “I’m covered and this is just…so average. What is the problem? Because it’s black and different from what you’re used to?”

“Honey-”

“Don’t honey me,” you hissed at her, as your father slammed down his fist on the table.

“Do not speak to your mother like that!” you cringed slightly at the sound of his voice but kept yourself mostly in check.

“I’m not doing or anything rude or wrong,” you said softly, “my entire life you both have been this way. You’ve never let me have any freedom or anything, and I’m finally getting to be who I really am. And that’s okay - what is so wrong with me dressing slightly differently or expressing who I am?”

“You’re going to ruin your life like that - giving people the wrong impression by those clothes and this- this boy!” you groaned as Eddie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t quite sure if he should do or say anything.

“My clothes or how I act isn’t going to do anything or ‘attract the wrong people’ as you seem to think. The right people wouldn’t judge me on something like that," you sat back in your chair and shifted your gaze between your parents, "and just so we're very clear, this is who I've always been. I'm just not hiding it anymore. And you know who helped me with that? Eddie. I love him so much - and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. So if you want me to be any part of your lives you'll accept me as I am, and him."

The entire room fell into silence; your parents were clearly horrified and Eddie was looking at you with pure adoration. You blinked a few times; you hadn't planned any of that and weren't quite sure what to say or do next. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Well," you hated the tone of her voice. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth before practically glaring at you and Eddie. He reached for your hand under the table and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, "I don't know where my little girl went but it's certainly not you. You can see yourself out the door."

"Mom-"

"Get out."

Tears started pricking at the back of your eyes as you stood up, practically pulling Eddie with you. It was silent between the two of you as you grabbed your purse and walked out the door. You didn't even have it in you to try and slam the door. You just left.

Eddie gently took the car keys from you, opening the passenger side for you to get in. He quickly slipped into the driver's side and before he could turn on the car, both of you started to giggle loudly.

"Jesus Christ," he let out a long sigh as he leaned against the headrest, "that was brutal."

"Yup…and that's not even the worst they've ever been," you looked at him with dreamy eyes before grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, "thanks for coming and dealing with that."

"Nothing to thank me for sweetheart," he whispered, "you gonna be okay?"

"Of course," you promised, knowing the memories would sting for a while before they got better, "why wouldn't I be? I've got you, haven't I? You're my family, Eddie. Not them."

"Did you mean it?" He asked so softly that you almost didn't hear his simple question, "when you said we'd be together forever?"

"Duh," you teased and his cheeks turned pink as he bit his lip, "unless that's a problem for you?"

"Not at all," he leaned over the center console and kissed you sweetly, "that's all I've ever wanted."

"Me too, Eddie," you stole a few more kisses from your favorite boy, "I love you so much."

"I love you, brave girl. So much."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

514 notes · View notes

simone8210 · 25 days ago

Text

Please, Change the Prophecy: Celebrimbor x reader - Part II

Hi guys! Thanks for all the love, I really appreciate it! I'm so happy that you liked it.

I noticed when I was writing this and thinking back on last chapter that Elrond hasn't actually met Celebrimbor yet in the show 💀 So please just go along with the idea that he has met him before for this fic.

This chapter does sadly not contain very much Brimby, but fear not! We will see Brimby again in person.

Word count: 15.043 Present = Normal, Past = Cursive

Taglist: @kateris-world

Enjoy! Feel free to comment and let me know what you think!

___________________________________________________________

I rushed back to my room, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mind kept replaying the conversation with Celebrimbor – his words, his rejection, the pity in his eyes. It was unbearable.

The walk to my room felt like it stretched on for miles, though it was only across a few halls and up a single flight of stairs. My legs moved on their own accord, stiff and mechanical, while my mind spun in disarray. There was a low buzzing in my ears, a strange hum that made every voice around me sound distant, unreal. I kept my gaze foxed on the ground, the polished stone floors blurred through the gathering mist in my eyes.

“Lady Arínel!” Someone called out. An ellon, their tone light, greeting me in passing.

I didn’t look up, barely acknowledging them as I kept walking, faster now. Another figure stepped into view ahead, offering a polite bow. “A pleasant evening, my lady.”

I gave a stiff nod, muttering something that might have resembled a greeting, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. My chest tightened with each step, the lump in my throat growing larger, threatening to spill over in form of tears I wasn’t yet ready to let fall. Not here, not in front of them. Not where he might see.

The walls of Lindon, once a place of comfort and familiarity, not felt like a maze closing in around me. My heart pounded, my breath quickening as I turned a corner and saw my room at the end of the hall, so close yet so impossibly far.

I had to make it. I had to get inside before –

The thought cut short as a wave of panic washed over me. What if he had followed me? What if he had tried to say more? Tried to console me with that pity in his voice? I couldn’t bear it. I sped up, practically running now, the sound of my boots echoing against the walls as I hurried toward the door.

“Arínel!”

My heart stopped. His voice. Celebrimbor’s voice calling my name from behind.

No.

I forced myself forward, nearly tripping as I fumbled with the handle of my door. The buzzing grew louder, muffling everything else as I yanked the door open, slipped inside, and slammed it shut behind me. My hands shaking as I turned the lock, sealing myself away from the world outside. Away from him. Away form everything.

I leaned against the door, pressing my forehead to the cool wood, my breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The tears I had fought so hard to hold back finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks in silent waves. I covered my mouth with my hand, stifling the sobs that clawed at my throat.

He hadn’t followed me after all.

The realisation only made the ache worse.

I felt myself sliding down to the floor. My entire body trembled as the shame washed over me in waves. How could I have been so foolish? I should have known. He was kind, yes, but that didn’t mean he felt the same.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, truing to quiet the tears that streamed down my face. I had made such a fool of myself, confessing my feelings like some lovesick child, and now, everything was ruined.

And so, I sat there, alone in the silence of my room, the weight of rejection pressing down on my chest like an unbearable burden. The sting of it – sharp, cutting – settled deep inside me, a wound that I wasn’t sure would ever heal.

_____________________________________________________________

For days, I stayed hidden away in my room, avoiding the feast halls, the gardens, anywhere I might run into him. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again, not after the way things had ended. Every knock at the door, every sound outside my window made me tense, wondering if it was him, wondering If he would try to talk to me again. But he didn’t.

And I was grateful.

But the silence didn’t make the hurt any easier to bear. It didn’t erase the shame.

On the third day, a soft knock broke the stillness of my room. I froze, heart leaping into my throat. I hadn’t ordered food, and I’d made it clear I didn’t want visitors.

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

“Arínel? It’s Elrond.”

His voice was gentle, and for a moment, I wanted to pretend I wasn’t here, to hide from the world, form everything that had just happened. But this was Elrond, my dear friend. He wouldn’t leave me alone, not like this.

I hesitated for a moment before rising and opening the door. Elrond stood there, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in my appearance. My hair more tangled than it usually, my eyes red from lack of sleep.

“Elrond,” I greeted, trying to force a smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “What brings you here?”

He didn’t return the smile, his expression softening. “You’ve been hiding away for days, Arínel. People are worried. Your brother is worried. He said you’ve been refusing people at your door.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, stepping back to let him in. “Just…needed some time to myself.”

“Arínel, what’s wrong? What has happened?” he asked, crossing the room to sit beside me. He didn’t touch me, but his presence alone was comforting, steady.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied weakly, trying to play it off, but the look he gave said we both knew that was a lie.

Elrond raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, but he didn’t push. Instead, he walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens below. “Lindon is a beautiful place,” he said after a moment. “But even the most beautiful places can feel like prison if you stay in one spot for too long.”

I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Elrond.”

He turned, his eyes full of quiet understanding. “I’m not here to lecture. I’m here to check on you. To be a friend.”

We stood in silence for a few moments before I finally gave in, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “I feel like such a fool,” I admitted.

I bit my lip, unsure of where to begin. The words stuck in my throat, and I felt that awful tightness in my chest again, threatening to overwhelm me.

“Elrond,” I began, then stopped. I couldn’t say it. How could I explain the humiliation I felt, the sting of rejection that was still fresh in my mind?

He watched me, waiting patiently. “You do not have to tell me,” he said softly. “but something is troubling you deeply, I can see that.”

A long silence stretched between us, and I could feel his gaze, warm and kind, as I struggled to find my voice. Eventually, it broke free.

“I told someone how I felt.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I told him I love him.”

Elrond’s eyes widened slightly, and though his expression remained gentle, I could see the surprise flicker across his face. “You love someone? And you confessed your feelings for them?”

I nodded, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, not from the warmth of affection but from the bitter embarrassment that now accompanied the confession.

“I did, but you see. He…he doesn’t feel the same,” I continued, my voice cracking. “He was so kind about it, Elrond, but it hurt all the same. And now I do not know what to do.”

Elrond’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “I cannot imagine how difficult that mut have been.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I just feel…humiliated. Like he sees me as this silly, lovesick elleth.”

“You’re not silly,” Elrond said firmly. “You were brave to be honest with him. That’s more than most can say.”

I gave a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels awful.”

He didn’t argue with me. instead, he glanced out the window, letting me talk about my feelings.

“It’s not just that,” I said shaking my head as tears welled up again. “It’s the fact that elves… we mate for life. We love so completely, so wholly. So how could I fall in love with someone who does not love me back? why would I feel this way, knowing he could never return it?”

I wiped my face angrily, frustrated with the mess of emotions that seemed to coil tighter and tighter in my chest.

“Elves are supposed to find their one partner, aren’t they?” I continued, my voice breaking. “I thought I had found mine. I thought…”

“You thought it was him,” Elrond finished softly.

I nodded miserably. “And now I feel…broken. Like something is wrong with me. if we’re meant to love for life, when why do I love someone who does not love me back? why would I be given these feelings if they’re not meant to be returned?”

Elrond gave me a sad smile. “I do not think it works like that, Arínel,” he said after a pause. “Even for elves, love can be complicated. Not every bond is destined, and sometimes, feelings do not align the way we hope. But that does not make your love any less real, or any less important.”

I looked at him, my lip trembling as the tears threatened to spill again. “I just do not understand why,” I whispered. “Why would I love him if he doesn’t love me?”

Elrond sighed, his gaze turning inward for a moment as if searching for the right words. “Love doesn’t always follow reason, even for us. Sometimes it’s painful, and unfair. But you’re not broken, Arínel. You took a risk by opening your heart to him, and that takes courage.”

I wanted to believe him, but the sting of rejection was still too fresh. “It doesn’t feel like courage,” I muttered. “It feels like foolishness.”

“You’re not foolish,” he said firmly. “And you’re not alone in feeling this way. Many an elves – many people – have felt the same pain of unreturned love.”

I stared at him, the weight of my feelings pressing down on me. “But it still hurts,” I whispered.

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, it does. And it will for some time. But it won’t always feel like this.”

I let out a shaky breath, my hands trembling slightly as I wiped my face again. Elrond watched me quietly for a moment before he spoke again.

“You’ve always been strong, Arínel,” he said softly. “I know this feels like a deep wound, but you’ll find your way through it. You’ve faced worse and come out stronger. Do not let this consume you. Nor define you.”

I didn’t respond right away, my thoughts swirling in a mess of confusion, hurt and doubt. Finally, I gave him a small, grateful nod. “Thank you, Mellon-nin. For listening and for your advice.”

“Always,” he said, his smile softening into something warm and reassuring. “And if you ever need to talk again, you know where to find me.”

“You know,” he began, his tone lighter, “a change of scenery might help. I’ve heard Eregion is lovely this time of year, besides you loved your time there.” He said with a smile, clearly trying to change the mood.

I grimaced at the suggestion. “Eregion?” I said, incredulously. “The last place I’d want to go is where he is.”

We both froze at that. I had said more than I intended to say. I looked at him and he looked surprised, but as the good friend he let it slide and pretended he didn’t hear it.

Elrond raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just a thought. I suppose avoided the ellon would be difficult when he resides in the city.” His eyes softened. “But I do think a change of scenery would do you good.”

I sighed again, leaning back on the bed. “I cannot just leave, Elrond. Where would I even go?”

“Well,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “You could always go with Galadriel and her company when they leave again. She’s bound to drag you into some grand adventure. Who know? You might find some dark lord to slay along the way.”

I glanced at him, expecting the jest to be just that – a joke to ease the tension. But something about the idea struck me. Galadriel was leaving soon with her company, to return to their search for Sauron. And right now, going with her, leaving Lindon, get away from it all – it didn’t sound so bad. In fact, it sounded like exactly what I needed.

Elrond must have noticed the shift in my expression because his smile faded, replaced with a flicker of concern. “Arínel, I was jesting.”

“I know,” I said quietly, starring at the floor. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go with her.”

Elrond sat up straighter, clearly not expecting me to take his suggestion seriously. “Wait, are you…are you actually considering it?”

I nodded slowly. “Why not? Maybe it’s time for me to leave here, to start fresh somewhere else. I’m not doing any good by hiding in my room.”

“Arínel,” he began, his tone cautious, “going with Galadriel is no small thing. You know how dangerous her path might be. She’s not searching for peace or comfort. She’s searching for…for something dark.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice firm. “But I cannot stay here, Elrond. Not after…everything. I need to get away. And may I remind you, that I’ve been fighting the dark long before you were born.”

He frowned, concern etched in his features. “You should not make this decision out of hurt. Galadriel’s path could take her far from any place of safety.”

I met his gaze, a sense of resolve building within me. “I cannot stay here and wallow in my own misery. I need to do something, go somewhere that reminds me I’m not just this…rejected, broken thing.”

Elrond’s eye softened again, and he sighed deeply, as if weighing whether to push the matter further. “If you truly believe this is what you need, then I will not stop you. Just…be careful, Arínel. Do not make choices out of pain that you will regret later.”

I gave him a small smile, appreciating his concern. “I’ll be careful. But I think this is the right choice.”

He nodded, slowly, though the worry didn’t leave his face. “I’ll speak with Galadriel, then. And…Arínel?”

“Yes?”

“Do not forget, you have friends here. You do not have to do everything alone.”

His words struck a chord, and for the first time in days, I felt a tiny flicker of warmth return.

“I know,” I said softly. “Hannon le, mellon-nin.”

He smiled, standing to leave “Always.” And with that, he gave me one last reassuring glance before going over to the door.

Elrond paused at the door, looking back at me one last time. “You’ll get through this, Arínel,” he said softly. “I know you will.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. But somehow, they felt a little less heavy and with new thoughts – thoughts of departure, of new beginnings, and leaving the pain behind.

______________________________________________________________

The days after my conversation with Elrond dragged on, heavy and slow. I tried to bury myself in routine, sparring with other warriors in the mornings, attending the occasional feast in the evenings, but everything felt muted, like I was walking through a dream I couldn’t wake up from. Each time I saw someone, they would offer a warm smile or kind words, and I would return them out of habit, but none of it reached me, none of it filled the growing emptiness inside.

The rejection replayed itself over and over in my mind, especially when I was alone. I would sit in my room, staring at the walls, remembering the way he had looked at me – so kind, so understanding, and yet…so distant. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have misread the moments we shared, the smiles, the conversations? Was it all in my head?

I avoided Celebrimbor completely. When I heard his voice echoing down the halls or caught sight of him from a distance, my heart would lurch, and I’d turn the other way, making sure he never saw me. It was easier to pretend he didn’t exist than to face him and feel the ache all over again. But it was exhausting, always on edge, always worried he might try to speak to me again.

I found myself retreating more and more to the solitude of my chambers, a place where I could be alone with my thoughts, though solitude had never felt so oppressive. The weight of rejection pressed down me, suffocating, and I began to wonder how long I could keep his up.

It was on one such evening, as I sat near the window, staring blankly at the fading twilight, that there was a knock on the door.

“Arínel?” The voice was unmistakable – Galadriel.

I hesitated, feeling the odd flutter of nervousness. Of all the people, I had spoken to since that fateful night. Galadriel had been distant, caught up in her own duties and preparations. But now she was here. I didn’t know why, but I felt my chest tighten as opened the door.

She stood there, regal as ever, her golden hair gleaming even in the dim light of the corridor. Her eyes searched my face, and I knew she saw right through the mask I’d been trying so hard to keep in place.

“Elrond spoke to me,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “He didn’t tell me much, but enough to know that something troubles you deeply.”

I swallowed, avoiding her gaze as I stepped aside to let her in. She moved gracefully into the room, her presence commanding but gentle. I couldn’t help but feel exposed in front of her, like every wall I had built to protect myself was transparent in her eyes.

“Arínel,” she said, turning to me. “You’ve been avoiding everyone. Including him.”

My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat. I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my mind. “Him…?” I stuttered out. Galadriel’s gaze softened.

“It is him, isn’t it? Celebrimbor?” Galadriel said gently, her tone carrying no judgement, only understanding.

I blinked, stunned. How had she known? My eyes widened, and for a moment, I felt that familiar pang of shame rise in my chest.

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

She smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “You’re not the first to feel the weight of unrequired love. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way you’ve been avoiding him, these last couple of days. It wasn’t difficult to piece together. Besides, he has seemed troubled these last few days.”

I looked away, my hands shaking as I clasped them together. “It doesn’t matter,” I said bitterly.

“He doesn’t feel the same?” Galadriel asked back in a whisper, her eyes soft and sad.

I nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s not just him,” I whispered. “It’s me. How could I have been so blind? And now… I can’t even bear to look at him. I feel like an utter fool.”

Galadriel stepped closer, her hand resting on my shoulder. “You are not a fool, Arínel. Love is never foolish, though it can be painful. And running from pain will not ease it.”

“I’m not running,” I said, a little sharper than I intended. “I want to do something with my life. I want to help you, to join your company. I do not care about rank or titles. I just…I need to leave.”

Galadriel was silent for a long moment, her hand still resting on my shoulder as she studied me. Finally, she sighed softly, as though weighing something heavy in her mind. “Your will is strong, I can see that,” she said. “And your desire to act is not misplaced. But understand this; if you join us, you will not be Arínel, Lady of Lindon and sister to the High-King. You will be the newest member of our company, and your rank will reflect that. There will be no special treatment, no regard for your title.”

“I do not care,” I replied quickly, looking up at her. “I do not need titles or honours. I just want to help. To do something good in this world.”

Her eyes held mine for a long moment, searching for something, though I wasn’t sure what. Finally, she nodded slowly. “Very well. You may join us, but know that this journey will test you in ways you cannot imagine, and once we leave, there is no turning back until we find what we seek.”

“I understand,” I said, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. “Hannon le, Galadriel.”

Galadriel’s gaze softened just a little, a faint smile touching her lips. “There is no need to thank me, mellon nin. This is your choice, and it is not without its dangers. But I believe you will find what you seek, though it may not be what you expect.”

I nodded, grateful for her understanding, even if I didn’t fully understand the path ahead of me. “When do we leave?”

“Soon,” she said. “Very soon. Prepare yourself, I will inform the others.”

I nodded again, the reality of my decision settling in. I was leaving. I was really leaving.

Galadriel turned to go, but before she left, she paused, glancing back at me. “One last thing,” she said, her tone soft but serious. “Do not let this pain, this hurt, define you. You are far more than this moment. Remember that.”

Her words stuck a chord deep within me, and I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I truly believed them yet.

“I will,” I said quietly.

“Good,” she replied with a smile. “Oh, and I will inform the High-King of your decision.” She said with a slight smile before tuning and walking away, leaving me standing by the river alone. The weight of my decision settling in. I wasn’t running from my pain. I was walking toward something new, something that would make me stronger – or so I hoped.

When I remembered what she said before she left, I was struck with terror. The High-King. My brother. How on earth was I going to tell him this? That I was leaving?

______________________________________________________________

I had been summoned. I stepped into my brother’s chambers, my stomach twisting. The high, arched windows allowed sunlight to pour over his desk, illuminating his many maps and parchments, a scattered testament to the realm he ruled. My brother’s eyes softened as he looked up, and for a moment, I almost felt at ease – until he set down his quill and regarded me with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Sister,” he greeted, gesturing for me to take a seat. “It’s been too long since we’ve spoken properly,”

“Brother,” I replied, remaining just inside the doorway, shifting slightly under his inquiring gaze,

He tilted his head, watching me with an almost brotherly exasperation. “You’ve been quiet,” he noted, voice gentle, but probing. “More so than usual.”

I forced a smile, hoping it would deflect his questioning. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” he asked, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Hiding from me, perhaps?”

I crossed my arms, feigning nonchalance. “Hardly. I’ve just had much to think on.”

My brother’s expression shifted slightly, his gaze more intense now. “Much to think on? I know you, Arínel. There’s something more – something is troubling you.” His voice softened, his concern palpable. “What is it?”

Heat pricked at the back of my neck as I looked down. I could never bring myself to lie to him, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing the truth – that my heart had been bruised by rejection, which he had warned my about. “It’s nothing, truly. Just thoughts that come and go.”

He watched me, unblinking, clearly unconvinced. The silence settled between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

Then, he let out a slow sigh, and his gaze sharpened. “I have spoken to Galadriel.”

At this, I tensed, my throat going dry. “Did you?”

“Yes.” His tone had turned from brotherly warmth to something sterner, almost commanding. “She tells me that you plan to join her company.” He paused, the words sinking in before he continued, “Strange, since you hadn’t seen fit to tell your own brother.”

The air between us felt charged, his words cutting like an accusation. I clenched my fists at my sides, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t think it was necessary to burden you with it until everything was settled.”

“Necessary?” he repeated, his voice rising with disbelief. “Arínel, you are considering leaving Lindon, to join Galadriel on what may be an endless hint across Middle-earth, and you think it was unnecessary to tell me? Your High-King? Your brother!”

“Perhaps because I knew you’d react like this,” I shot back, feeling my pulse quicken as the walls I had carefully built up began to crack under his scrutiny.

He rose from his seat, crossing the space between us in a few swift strides. “React like what, Arínel? Like your brother who cares about you? Like the king who will lose not only a valuable advisor, warrior but his sister?”

“Ereinion,” I said, taking a step back, “this isn’t about you or your court. It’s something I need to do.”

He shook his head, his jaw tight. “It sounds like a decision made out of haste and despair. Have you considered what you’re throwing away?”

The weight of his words bore down on me, but I refused to relent. “There’s nothing to throw away. I.” I spat bitterly. “I have spent years fulfilling every duty you placed before me. Isn’t it time I had a say in my own path?”

“Your own path?” His voice dropped, the frustration barely concealed. “Do you think your actions affect only you?” Have you thought of the risks you’re taking?”

The worry in his eyes softened the edges of my anger, but I hardened myself against it. “I’ve thought of nothing else. You may not understand, but I have made up my mind.”

“Arínel,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “You are my sister. I cannot just let you walk into danger.”

I looked away, swallowing against the ache in my throat. “You’re not letting me do anything. This is my choice.”

“I will not allow it.” He said his voice sharp.

“There’s nothing for you to allow!” I snapped back.

Silence stretched between us, brittle and sharp. Finally, I turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. He didn’t stop me, and I didn’t look back.

______________________________________________________________

I spent the next few days preparing for my departure, gathering my new armor belonging to the northern armies and packing provisions. It felt surreal, knowing that I would soon be leaving Lindon behind – leaving behind everything I’d known in favor of an uncertain future. My hand brushed the cold, smooth surface of my sword as I placed it in its sheath. This had been my constant companion in many battles, though now it seemed foreign, as though the weight of it reminded me of the battles I hadn’t fought lately, the person I hadn’t been for far too long.

I paused, starring at my reflection in the mirror. I had pulled my hair back in braids, a practical choice for the road ahead. My face seemed thinner, more solemn than it had in years. There was a determination in my eyes that had been missing for some time, but beneath it, there was also uncertainty. I was leaving to reclaim my strength, to prove something to myself. But was it really for me – or to escape?

I shook my head. The time for doubt had passed. I had made my decision.

As I finished strapping on my gear, I could hear the rustle of leaves outside my window, the great tree of Lindon swaying gently in the wind. It had always been a place of comfort, a symbol of peace and wisdom. But now it seemed ominous, a silent witness to the turmoil growing within me.

There was only one thing left to do – speak to my brother.

I found my brother standing beneath the towering tree, his arms crossed, and his brow furrowed. The moment he saw me approach, I could sense the tension rising between us. He knew why I had come.

“You’re really going then,” he said, his voice low and edged with disapproval.

“I have to,” I replied, my tone firm but not unkind. “This is something I need to do. Commander Galadriel has agreed, and I –”

“I do not care what Galadriel has agreed to,” he interrupted, stepping forward toward me, his expression darkening. “You do not need to prove anything, Arínel. Not to her, not to me, not to anyone.”

My jaw tightened, and I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s not about proving anything to anyone. It’s about doing something that matters.”

“And abandoning your home?” he shot back, his voice rising. “What about Lindon? What about your friends? Your family - Me?”

I felt my own temper flare at his words. “I’m not abandoning myself! I’m trying to find a purpose! You cannot keep me here, trapped under your shadow forever.”

Gil-Galad’s face hardened. “This isn’t about me, Arínel. It’s about you running away from what you do not want to face. You think following Galadriel on her endless hunt will somehow make you whole again?”

“That’s not fair,” I said, my voice shaking with anger and frustration. “You do not understand.”

“I understand plenty,” he said bitterly, stepping closer. “I see the way you’ve been hiding, locking yourself away since—” he hesitated, but I could see the words on the tip of his tongue. “Since he rejected you.”

I flinched at his bluntness, feeling the sting of his words deep in my chest. “This has nothing to do with Celebrimbor,” I spat, though we both knew it wasn’t entirely true.

He shook his head, his gaze softening but still filled with concern. “You’re my sister. I cannot let you do this. My job is to protect you – even from yourself.”

“You cannot stop me,” I replied, stepping back, trying to put distance between us, both physically and emotionally. “This is my decision to make, not yours.”

My brother opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a voice interrupted us.

“Is everything all right here?”

I froze, turning toward the sound. Celebrimbor stood nearby, his eyes calm but weary, as if he had walked into something he hadn’t expected. His auburn hair was tousled by the breeze, and those sharp, intelligent eyes of his shifted between me and Gil-Galad, sensing the tension. He carried himself with the usual quiet confidence, the kind of calm that could disarm most situations.

He had probably come for his meeting with my brother, but not, I found myself wishing he hadn’t.

“Lord Celebrimbor,” Gil-Galad greeted him stiffly, though his focus remained on me.

“Do forgive us, my lord, but we’re having a private discussion,” I said sharply, turning my back to Celebrimbor as I focused on my brother again, but my heart raced, knowing he was watching.

“I can see that,” Celebrimbor, said his voice gentle, almost soothing. “I do not wish to intrude, but… perhaps it would be easier to talk calmly?”

His words were soft, but they only stoked the flames of my frustration. This wasn’t about a conversation that could be smoothed over with calm words. Not this time.

“No,” I said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. I turned back towards my brother. “I’m joining Galadriel’s company whether you want me to or not. I do not need your permission, but I would like to have it.”

The tension crackled in the silence that followed. My brother took a step back, his hands clenched, jaw tight, while I felt the familiar twist of both shame and stubbornness in my chest.

But as Celebrimbor’s gaze flickered to me, his brows knit together in growing confusion. His eyes were both questioning and hesitant, as though the words he was about to speak carried a weight that he feared would only worsen things.

“You’re….leaving?” he asked softly, almost as if the word itself carried a personal blow. His voice wavered with a mix of shock and…something else, something nearly panicked and yet unmistakably sad. His face, usually composed, betrayed an emption he had clearly been surprising.

The air around us grew still as his gaze bore into mine, and I struggled to find my voice, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” I managed, barely above a whisper, my heart twisting as I watched the flicker of disbelief in his expression.

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, I thought he might step closer. “But…why?” he glanced briefly at my brother as though hoping for an answer there, but when none came, his gaze returned to me, searching, almost pleading.

“Because I… This isn’t… I…. I – I just can’t do this right now.” My throat felt tight, and I could barely contain the wave of emotions rising inside me.

“Arínel,” Celebrimbor said gently, his voice cutting through the chaos in my mind. “Stay. We can resolve this.”

But the sound of his voice, the way he spoke so kindly – It was unbearable. It was like reopening a wound that hadn’t yet healed, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t bear the pity in his vice, or the way he looked at me as I he wanted to make things better but couldn’t.

“No,” I said again, more forcefully this time. “I have to go.”

Without another word, I turned and hurried away, ignoring Celebrimbor’s calls after me, ignoring the way my brother’s eyes burned into my back. I didn’t look at either of them as I left, my heart pounding and my chest tight with shame, anger, and a sense of loss that I couldn’t shake.

I had tried to find my place here, to make sense of it all, but now I only felt more lost than ever.

______________________________________________________________

The night before my departure, a grand feast was held in the company’s honour. The hall was aglow with candles, their flickering light casting a warm glow on the faces of those gathered. Elves spoke in hushed voices, drinking and laughing, but I felt a strange distance from it all. My mind was already elsewhere, halfway across the sea with Galadriel’s company, anticipating the unknown journey ahead.

I sat near the end of the long table, quietly eating as the feast continued around me. Elrond, seated beside me, glanced my way. He gave me a soft smile, one of understanding, though I knew he didn’t entirely agree with my decision either.

“You’re brave for going, you know,” he said sipping his wine. “not many would willingly join Galadriel on such an uncertain path.”

I managed a small smile in return. “Perhaps I’m not as brave as you think. Perhaps it’s simply easier to leave than to stay.”

Elrond tilted his head, studying me. “Sometimes, it’s both. But regardless, I hope you find what you’re searching for out there.”

There was a weight in his words that I hadn’t expected, and I felt a pang in my chest. It was strange, to think that I might not see them all again. I flanked across the hall, my eyes naturally seeking out the familiar figures of those closest to me. Círdan caught my gaze from across the room and gave me a nod, lifting his goblet as if to silently urge me to take care.

I returned the gesture, grateful for his quiet support.

But then my eyes fell on mu brother. The High-King sat at the far end of the table, his face impassive, his posture stiff. He hadn’t spoken a word to me all night. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a word to me since our last conversation. His disapproval hung between us like a sword, sharp and cutting. I’d tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, that I didn’t need his approval to do what I had chosen. But it hurt, nonetheless.

I tore my gaze away and took a deep breath, resolving to focus on those who were here for me, believed in me.

Celebrimbor had been on the other side of the hall most of the night, occasionally speaking with others but always keeping me in his periphery. He made his way toward me at one point, pausing when he reached my side. I looked up at him, feeling a pang of something – regret, perhaps – at the way things had unfolded between us.

“I wanted to wish you well on your journey,” he said softly, his gaze searching mine. “I…I hope you find what you seek.”

His words were king, but I felt a wall between us, a distance that hadn’t been there before. I nodded, my lips pressing into a tight line. ��Thank you, my lord.”

He hesitated, as if there were more, he wished to say, but I couldn’t give him the opening. I had closed myself off to him, unwilling to bear the ache of disappointment again. He seemed to sense it, and after a moment, he gave me a nod before turning away.

I watched him go, feeling the weight of his unspoken words settle like a stone in my chest. But it was better this way, I told myself. There was no point in clinging to hope were none existed.

After the feast, I retreated to my chambers, trying to quiet my racing thoughts as I prepared for the morning. Just as I was about to climb into bed, there was a knock at my door. I frowned, wondering who would come at such a late hour, but when I opened it, my heart stilled.

My brother stood there, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

“May I come in?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I stepped aside, allowing him into the room. He closed the door behind him, and we stood in silence for what felt like an eternity.

“I owe you an apology,” he said at last, breaking the tension. His gaze dropped to the floor, and when he looked up at me again, I could see the regret in his eyes. “I was wrong to be so harsh with you. It’s just… difficult. I don’t want to lose you.”

My throat tightened, and I crossed the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not going to lose me, brother. I’ll come back.”

He shook his head slightly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve seen too many go and not return. I’m your brother, Arínel. It’s my duty to protects you, and yet here I am, letting you walk into danger.”

“I’m not a child, toron,” I said gently, placing a hand on his arm. “I need to do this. For myself.”

He was silent for a long moment before reaching behind his back. When he pulled his hand forward, I saw his sword, the one he had carried into countless battles. He held it out to me.

“Take it,” he said quietly. “And promise me you’ll return it. Return it to me, nésa. Then I know you’ll come back.”

I stared at the sword in disbelief. It was a part of him, a symbol of his strength and his legacy, and now he was entrusting it to me.

“I cannot take this! It’s a symbol of your strength” I gasped.

He just chuckled softly and shook his head with a pained smile. “Do not worry, nésa. I still have my trusty Aeglos to keep me safe.” He teased slightly.

My heart swelled with emotion, and I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the hilt.

“I promise,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulled me into a tight embrace, and for a moment, we stood there, the weight of unspoken words passing between us. When he pulled away, his eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he didn’t let them fall.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, the mood in Lindon was somber. Galadriel’s company was assembled by the docks, and ready to embark on their journey. I stood among them, clad in armour similar to Galadriel’s, though it felt foreign on my body. The weight of my brother’s sword rested on my hop, a constant reminder of the promise I had made.

As I turned to say goodbye, Elrond approached me with a faint smile, his usual calm softened by something more sorrowful in his eyes. He had been my closest friend through all of this, and I felt the ache of parting keenly.

“You have everything you need?” he asked with faint smile, though I could see he was holding back his true words. Elrond, ever careful with his emotions, but he didn’t fool me now.

“I believe som” I said, forcing a small smile of my own. I paused, swallowing the knot in my throat. “I’ll see you again, Elrond. I’ll return, mellon nin.”

He nodded, his hand resting on my shoulder in a gesture both steadying and reluctant. “Take care, Arínel. I worry… about what you might find out there. Remember that darkness does not always appear as shadows.”

“I know,” I whispered, looking at him earnestly. “But if I don’t go, I’ll never find peace with any of this.”

A flicker of sadness crossed his face, and he gave my shoulder a reassuring a squeeze. “Then may the stars light your way, and may you come back…as yourself.” His voice was gentle, but his words held a quiet plea.

I nodded, gripping his hand in farewell before stepping back.

I glanced over my shoulder one last time, my eyes scanning the crowed. My brother stood near the great tree, watching me, his face stoic. Círdan gave me a small, reassuring nod, and I smiled faintly in return.

Then, my gaze fell on Celebrimbor. He stood a little apart from the others, his expression unreadable as he watched me. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I could feel the tension between us once more. I turned away, ready to board the ship, but before I could take a step, I heard his voice.

“Arínel!”

I turned back, surprised to see him approaching, his face softened with concern.

He looked at me with a strange expression, something in his eyes that I couldn’t name. I had been avoiding his gaze since our last exchange, fearing that even a single glance might reopen the wound of his rejection. But here he was, close enough that the warmth of his presence brushed against my skin.

“I…I wanted to say goodbye,” he said, his voice gentler than it had been in days. “I’ll miss you and our conversations. I do not know what’s waiting for you out there, but…. I hope you find peace.”

His words were kind, but there was a sadness behind them that made my heart ache. I wanted to say something – anything – but the words caught in my throat. I merely nodded, unable to trust my voice.

He reached out as if to touch my arm, but stopped short, his hand falling back to his side. He hesitated for a moment longer once again, then suddenly stepped closer. He reached out and took my hand in his. His touch delicate as though I were made of something fragile. I caught my breath, and his eyes met mine, bright with unspoken words.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, “stay safe out there, my lady. I …I cannot bear the thought of something ill befalling you.” His eyes searched mine, a storm of emotions flickering there. Was it regret? Longing? For one fragile, breathless moment, or seemed as though he wanted to say more, but he remained silent, his gaze locked on mine. “Please will you promise me?”

I swallowed a lump in my throat, forcing a small smile. “That is a promise I cannot make, but I will do my best, my lord.”

He nodded, looking slightly relieved before he looked unsure yet again. His grip on my hand tightened a bit, and slowly he raised it and his lips brushed the back of my hand – a gesture both gallant and uncharacteristically tender. The warmth lingered, and a faint blush crept across my cheeks.

I wanted to say something, anything, but words failed me. There was something unsaid between us, something neither of us could find the courage to voice. But now wasn’t the time. It couldn’t be.

And just as quickly, I pulled my hand from his grasp, slipping past him and boarding the ship with the others. I took my place among the company, yet my heart felt unsteady, torn between duty and the lingering echo of his touch. The wind tugged at my hair as the sails were raised, and I glanced back at the shore, seeing Celebrimbor, standing alone at the shore, watching as the ship pulled away.

Our eyes met one final time, and I felt my heart stop as I noticed what looked like to be unshed tears in his eyes. There he stood, a lone figure, etched against the misty morning light. Even then, I couldn’t be sure what lay behind his gaze, only that his silent, unspoken plea weighed upon me as we sailed farther and farther away from the shore. But he still held my gaze, until the distance grew too great. The shore faded, and with it, everything I had left behind.

______________________________________________________________

I could not stop the feel of happiness and rejoice I felt when I spotted Elrond waiting, under the great tree of Lindon. When his eyes found mine, he broke into a smile and quickly moved toward me, a glimmer of warmth that felt like a home in a world that had recently seemed so unsteady.

“Elrond,” I greeted, a bit breathless. He held out his arms, and I gladly stepped into them, embracing him tightly.

“Arínel,” he murmured with a quiet laugh as he pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders. “You’re whole and back in one piece. Though, I will admit I half-expected to find you in some troublesome state.” His teasing tone carried an edge of genuine concern that warmed me to my core.

I laughed, feeling the tension of the past few months ease in his presence. “And deprive you of peace here in Lindon? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good, because the quiet has felt…strange without you,” he admitted with a soft smile. “Tell me, was the journey everything you hoped for?”

A shadow crossed his gaze, one I knew better than to press on here in front of others. But I could tell he felt something more – a hint of sadness, maybe, or worry.

“Perhaps not everything I’d hoped for,” I said, looking out toward the mountains beyond the city. “But it was something I needed. You understand, don’t you?”

He held my gaze for a moment, something unspoken passing between us. “Yes, I think I do,” he replied gently. Then, he squeezed my shoulder before letting go, his voice light. “We’ll have to share a proper conversation soon, now that you’re back.”

The promise of it lifted my spirits. “I look forward to it, mellon.”

A little later, when the bustle of reunions quieted, I found myself beside the familiar riverbank, the soft murmuring of the water a soothing background to my thoughts. I was tracing absent patterns on the grass when I sensed Galadriel’s presence. She approached silently, a faint but solemn smile on her face.

“Arínel,” she began, her voice softer than I was used to, more gentle, almost reverent. “I wished to thank you.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Thank me?”

She nodded, her gaze distant for a moment before meeting mine with intensity. “In the midst of…everything, you never turned your back on me. When all else seemed uncertain – when even those I trusted questioned my path – you stood firm. That loyalty is rare.”

I glanced away, feeling a warmth rise within me at her words. “I always believed in your purpose, Galadriel. I could see what you saw, even if others could not.”

A hint of sadness crossed her face, and I realized how deeply the weight of those mutinous moments still rested on her. “It takes great courage to remain steadfast in the face of doubt,” she murmured. “Without you, I am not sure I could have reached this place.”

Her hand came to rest lightly on my shoulder, and I felt the strength of her gratitude in that single touch. “You have my loyalty, Arínel. And you have my friendship,” she said, her voice rich with sincerity.

“I am honored Galadriel,” I replied quietly, meeting ger gaze, “I only did what I believed was right.”

The river flowed on beside us, the sun dipping lower on the horizon as we stood together, aware of what lay behind us but bracing for what lay ahead.

______________________________________________________________

The soft glow of the evening light filtered through the windows of the grand hall as I sat across from Elrond, savouring the familiarity of his presence after so many decades, nearly a century, apart, Lindon had changed since I had left with Galadriel’s company, yet the same air of elegance and history hung in the halls like it always had. Elrond had already been caught up in questions about the journey, the sights we had seen, and the battles we had fought. For a while, it felt as though nothing had changed. Like I’d never left.

But the undercurrent of tension between us couldn’t be ignored. Not after the things Galadriel had confided in me, nor after all that I had witnessed. The looming shadow of Sauron still plagued my thoughts, though many believed him long gone. Elrond and my brother, more than anyone had made their feelings on the matter clear.

“You still do not believe her, do you?” I said, setting my goblet of wine down, the warmth of the drink doing little to calm the growing frustration within me. “You do not believe that Sauron still lingers.”

Elrond sighed, his brow furrowing as he leaned back in his chair. “Arínel it is not a matter of belief. I respect Galadriel more than most, but she is chasing shadows – ghosts of the past. The enemy was defeated. Morgoth is gone. There’s been no sign of Sauron for centuries.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “With all respect, Elrond. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what we saw. The signs are out there, Mellon. He’s still out there, gathering strength.”

His eyes softened, though a hint of frustration flickered behind them. “I do not dismiss what you’ve been through, Arínel. But we have to look to the future, not chase after every rumour, every flicker of darkness.”

I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward. “So, what are we supposed to do? Just sit back and wait until it’s too late? Until Sauron is standing at our gates with an army behind his back?”

Elrond’s jaw tightened, and he sat up straighter, his patience wearing thin. “We cannot be ruled by fear. Galadriel…she is driven by it. She cannot let go of the past. And I fear it will destroy her. It may destroy all of you.”

His words stung, though part of me knew there was truth in them. Galadriel’s relentless search for Sauron had driven us to the brink more than once. But it was her determination, her refusal to surrender, that had brought us this far. I couldn’t help but admire her, even as it cost us so much.

I opened my mouth to argue further, but Elrond quickly cut me off. “You don’t have to be part of it, Arínel. You have a choice.”

“What choice do I have? I have committed to this, Elrond. This is my life now.”

Elrond hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Perhaps not for much longer.”

I frowned, sensing something in his tone. “What do you mean?”

He paused, his gaze dropping to the table for a brief moment before he finally spoke. “Galadriel’s company…. You’ll be granted an honour. A reward for your service.”

The pit in my stomach tightened as I watched him closely. “What reward?” I asked, my voice cold as ice.

Elrond’s eyes flickered up to meet his, guilt flashing across his face. “You are to be allowed passage to the Undying Lands. To Valinor. You’re going home.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and for a moment, I could hardly breathe. “What?” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Galadriel’s service – your service – has not gone unnoticed. This is a great honour, Arínel. The highest one we can receive.”

I shot to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. “Honour? You think this is an honour? Elrond, I didn’t fight for this. I didn’t leave my home and my people just to be shipped off to Valinor like a meddling child, like some… consolation prize.”

“Arínel, please –”

“No!” I interrupted, my voice trembling with anger. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this is what they intended, and you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even give me a choice to say no.”

Elrond stood, reaching out as if to calm me, but I backed away. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react like this. You’re exhausted. You’ve been through so much—”

“So what?” I snapped, the rage boiling inside me. “So, I should just accept it? Walk quietly onto a shop and sail away like nothing I’ve done here matters anymore? Like I’ve been used up and discarded?”

His face fell, his concern clear. “That’s not what I meant, Arínel.”

“I’m not going,” I spat, my voice shaking with fury.

Elrond’s expression hardened slightly, but he said nothing more as I stormed out of the hall, my blood roaring in my ears. I needed air, space, anything to clear my head. But I couldn’t escape the fury bubbling inside me.

I stormed across the grounds of Lindon, my feet carrying me to the one person I know was behind this. I found my brother beneath the great tree, overseeing the training of several warriors, his posture regal and calm as always. I didn’t care. I marched right up to him, ignoring the eyes of the onlookers.

“Is it true?” I demanded, my voice sharp.

My brother turned and looked at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Nésa, what –”

“Don’t nésa me! Don’t play ignorant,” I snapped, my fists clenched at my sides. “Is it true that you want us to sail to Valinor? That you’ve decided our fate without even asking! My fate!”

His expression shifted, a brief flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before it hardened into his usual clam. “It is true.”

I laughed bitterly, throwing my hands in the air. “Of course it is. Of course, you would make this decision without even asking me! Without even asking if this is what we want!”

My brother opened his mouth to respond, but I interrupted him. “So that’s it, then? We fight, we bled for this land, and when it’s over, we’re just… cast aside like tools that have outlived their purpose.”

My brother’s expression softened, but only slightly. “It Is not like that Arínel. This is a chance. A chance for you to be at peace, to live in a world untouched by the darkness that has plagued Middle-earth. You’ve been given an honour, Arínel. The chance to leave behind the suffering of this world, to find peace –”

“I do not want peace!” I snapped, my voice echoing through the training yard. “I don’t want to leave. I want to continue to fight. I want to do something with my life. Not… not sail off to some faraway land and fade into nothingness.”

He sighed, his gaze shifting to the horizon. “The darkness is gone, sister. Sauron is gone. There’s nothing left to fight.

“You don’t know that!” I retorted, taking a step closer. “You didn’t see what I saw out there. You didn’t see Galadriel – how convinced she is that the shadow hasn’t left. That Sauron is still out there, somewhere.”

My brother shook his head, his patience thinning. “You cannot live your life in fear of shadows. The enemy is defeated.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. My brother’s jaw tightened, his voice lowering. “You would turn down the greatest gift out people have been given? Why?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. It wasn’t just Sauron that was keeping me here, was it? The truth was like a stone in my chest, heavy and unmoveable. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself, but the reason I didn’t want to leave. Wasn’t entirely about the war.

It was about him.

Celebrimbor. The thought of him staying in Middle-earth, continuing his work in Eregion, while I sailed away to Valinor – leaving him behind – was unbearable. I couldn’t leave knowing he was still here, outside of my reach, never knowing when I might see him again – if I might see him again.

“Arínel?” My brother’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and insistent. “Why are you so set on staying? What are you holding on to?

I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to the ground. “I…I don’t know,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He stepped closer, his voice softening. “You do not have to decide right now. But this is an opportunity, one that may not come again. Do not let fear or uncertainty cloud your judgement.”

My heart raced in my chest, torn between the desire to stay and the need to leave everything behind. I couldn’t make sense of it. Why did this decision feel so impossible?

“Maybe I’m not ready to go,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “Maybe I still have something to do here.”

My brother regarded me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he sighed, stepping back. “I cannot stop you from making your own choice. But do not let the past, or your feelings, bind you to a path that may no longer be yours to walk.”

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He didn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure I did either.

Without another word, I turned and walked away from the great tree, my mind a storm of doubt and confusion. The shadows of Lindon stretched long before me, and for the first time in a long time, I had no idea where they would lead me.

______________________________________________________________

Elrond found me near the river’s edge, where I often wandered in times of uncertainty. I heard his footsteps on the stones behind me and I turned to see him approaching with a look of quiet determination on his face. He greeted me with a gentle nod before glancing over the water, his usual calm tinged with a sadness.

“Elrond,” I began, sensing there was something weighing on him.

He took a deep breath, then met my eyes. “I know you’re conflicted,” he started carefully. “Galadriel is just as conflicted as you. But you have both been granted the highest of honours. You’re going home.”

“Elrond, I…” I faltered, searching for the right words. “I do not know if I am ready to leave Middle-earth. Not yet.”

A faint frown touched his features. “Not ready to leave?” he watched me closely, then, as if considering something he hadn’t yet spoken aloud. “Or is it that there’s someone you are waiting for? someone who has made the leaving more difficult?”

The suddenness of his question took me aback, and I could feel the warmth rising in my cheeks. “No, that is…that’s not it at all,” I stammered, trying to steady my voice. But I could see Elrond’s expression change, the glint in his eye unrelenting, as though he had long suspected my true reason.

“Arínel,” he said softly, “do you think I haven’t seen it? You may deny it, but the heart has its own way of betraying secrets.” He hesitated, as though choosing his next words carefully. “After you left with Galadriel, there was a change in him. And I overhead him and your brother, not long after, locked in a heated argument.”

My chest tightened at the realisation that my brother and Celebrimbor had spoken of me. Until I also realised that the identity of my unrequited love was now known to Elrond. The instinct to deny surged but faltered under the weight of his knowing gaze.

“You knew it was him,” I said in a whisper, almost to myself. “How?”

Elrond’s eyes softened as he held my gaze, a glimmer of empathy beneath his calm exterior. “There were many signs,” he replied, voice gentle. “After you joined Galadriel’s company, Lord Celebrimbor was not himself for the rest of the duration of his visit. I have never seen him so visibly…affected by someone before. He seemed almost hollowed, as if a piece of him had gone with you. For rest of his visit, he wandered the halls, his mood as unpredictable as the sea. There were moments of silence, where his gaze seemed lost in memory, and others of sudden anger, even fury. He held it within, of course, but…” He shook his head, his eyes full of understanding. “There was no mistaking it.”

I felt my heart sink and flutter all at once, the knowledge both startling and strangely reassuring. “I had no idea,” I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. Elrond stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Although I fear I must still warn you, Arínel. I fear that waiting for him…it may not bring you the peace you seek. You deserve more than to linger here, hoping for something he may never be able to give.”

His words pressed into my heart, stirring a storm of emotions I’d tried to keep buried. “But considering how you said he reacted when I left, and that he…he kissed my hand the day I left,” I murmured, my voice shaking with the memory. “He asked me to stay safe, said he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to me.”

Elrond’s expression softened, but his words held steady. “Arínel, he is a kind and gentle soul. But if he cannot give you more than words that make you wait…you must decide if you’re willing to follow him down an uncertain path.”

I looked away, the enormity of his counsel settling over me. the truth of it was hard, but undeniably clear. A part of me longed to stay, hoping that Celebrimbor’s affection for me could grow, that one day he might come to see me as I saw him. And yet, another part wondered if the waiting would be endless – if my hope would only keep me bound to Middle-earth without any certainty in return.

“Elrond, I do not know If I can simply let go,” I admitted, barely louder than a whisper.

“Then do not let go of yourself in the process,” he said softly, a gentle hand resting on my shoulder. “Do not wait so long that you lose sight of who you are and what you want.” He hesitated, the warmth of his gaze strengthening. “Middle-earth is a beautiful place, but it’s not worth sacrificing your peace or your heart.”

I swallowed, nodding slowly, though my thoughts still churned. “Thank you, Elrond. I…I’ll consider everything you’ve said.”

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, and as he turned to go, a strange sense of both grief and freedom settled in my chest. His words lingered, like the last notes of a song that had struck me to the core, their wisdom unravelling something I had long held tightly.

As I stood by the river’s edge, watching the water rush on, I knew I had a choice to make. And for the first time, I began to winder if, perhaps, the future I clung to was one I might need to let go of.

______________________________________________________________

The evening was quiet, shadows stretching long and soft over the gardens of Lindon as I walked with Galadriel, our steps quiet on the path. It felt like we’d crossed so many miles together, and yet, here we were, neither of us sure of the paths that lay before us. Her face was calm, her gaze pensive as it wandered over the lands beyond.

“Arínel,” Galadriel murmured, her voice like the sigh of a distant breeze, “do you feel the weight of it? Leaving?” She didn’t look at me, only watched the stars beginning to glimmer in the fading daylight.

I hesitated, wondering how to answer her question when my own heart still tangled with uncertainty. “I do,” I said finally. “But I…I do not know if I’m ready to give up the life we have here. I’ve fought so hard for it.”

Galadriel’s gaze grew distant, a faint sadness darkening her eyes. “I know how you fell,” she replied. “We all carry attachments to this world, Arínel, Some are born of duty, others from love… and yet, we hold to them as tightly as life itself.” She paused, brushing a hand over the railing as we walked. “But some attachments are chains – subtle, gentle things that only become visible when we try to walk forward. And then we must ask: Do we truly belong where we are, or are we here out of habit and longing?”

“I can hear from your words that you’ve been speaking with Elrond,” I teased making her chuckle, as she nodded.

“I have, but that only makes the words truer.” She replied, as she gazed out over the railing.

I nodded. Her words stirred something deep within me, the subtle truth of them tightening around my heart. My mind drifted to Celebrimbor, to the years spent hoping, to the small moments of kindness that I’d cherished and held close. It was true: I had bound myself to those memories, hoping they would become something more, all the while chaining myself to a life that was slowly fading. For so long, I’d let myself linger in the shadows of the unspoken words, believing that perhaps, with time, he would finally feel as I did.

And yet…had I not been waiting all this time? I had let my heart grow heavy with hope, with yearning for what might never be. The path was clear now, even if I had avoided looking at it fully.

“Galadriel…” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat as I turned to her. “What if, by leaving, we give up the only chance we have to make things right here?”

She studied me, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “Perhaps,” she stated. “Or perhaps, there comes a time to release what we cannot change.”

As I held her gaze, the last fragments of doubt crumbled. My attachment to Middle-earth, I realised, was rooted more in the dreams I had created than in the reality I now faced. I’d been clinging to something intangible, to feelings that went unanswered, waiting for a love that had never fully taken root. And in that waiting, I’d bound myself to a future that no longer held any certainty.

In this moment, an odd peace washed over me, quiet and profound, filling the spaces where all my doubts had resided. I knew then: it was to time to let go. It was time to release the hope that had kept me here, the dream that I would one day be more than a memory to him.

Galadriel seemed to sense the shift withing me, a faint smile touching her lips. “You’ve made your decision then?”

I nodded, feeling the weight lift, leaving only the whisper of possibility. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes, I have. I’m ready to leave.” I replied.

As I spoke the words, it felt like laying down a burden I’d carried for too long. I could finally see myself in Valinor, in the undying light that awaited beyond the shores. I could finally imagine a world where I was free from the shadows of hope and regret.

We continued our walk in silence, Galadriel’s presence steady and comforting beside me. I knew there would be a pain in leaving Middle-earth, in leaving my brother, and leaving Celebrimbor and the life I had known behind. But as the stars bloomed above us, I realised that I was no longer afraid. The path before me was clearer than it had been in a while, and for the first time in my long years, I felt truly ready to take it.

______________________________________________________________

I knelt beneath the great tree of Lindon, feeling the cool, firm earth press against my knees through the thin cloth of my ceremonial armour. The branches spread above us like an ancient canopy, leaves rustling softly in the evening breeze. My cap billowed gently behind me, and I sensed the eyes of all gathered elves upon us, my brothers and sisters in arms lined up on either side, with Galadriel to my left. The High-King, my brother stood before us, his figure tall and resolute, his gaze scanning over us with both pride and something deeper, perhaps sadness.

“These most valiant of warriors kneel here before us, victorious,” he announced, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through my chest.

I glanced to my left, I caught Elrond mouthing along quietly, almost in perfect sync with my brother. A small smile crept onto my face, knowing he had written the speech, each line etched in his memory. I drew strength from the familiarity of it all, but a pang tugged at my heart. This wasn’t just another homecoming, as the rest of our company would soon find out.

“For though Morgoth fell an age ago, some feared a new evil might arise from his shadow.” My brother’s tone grew sombre. “So, for centuries now, these soldiers have swept across crag and crevice, washing away the last remnants of our enemy like a spring rain over the bones of a spoilt carcass.”

He spoke of us as heroes, cleansing the world of a lingering darkness, yet as I listened, I couldn’t shake the thought that our battle was never quite as simple as spring rain. But I met his gaze as he stepped forward, our eyes meeting in a silent acknowledgement of all we’d endured. I tried to mask the flicker of unease in my chest; he would see through it instantly.

Then, with a gentler expression, he lowered a circlet onto my head. The metal felt warm and solid, yet strangely light. He offered a small, bittersweet smile, pride glimmering in his eyes, but a deep sadness as well.

“And now, at last they return to us in triumph, for they have proven beyond any doubt that, our days of war are over,” he said, his worry seemingly meant for us but aimed at Galadriel, who shifted uncomfortably beside me.

I caught her slight sigh as she lowered her head, bowing before him, as if she could shield herself from the weight of his words. My brother’s gaze sharpened, yet he placed the golden leaf circlet upon her brow, sealing her place among us. still, I felt her reluctance ripple beneath the solemnity of the moment.

“And as a measure of our gratitude,” he continued, his tone solemn but warm, “these heroes shall be granted an honour unrivalled in all our lore. They will be escorted to the Grey Havens and granted passage across the sea, to dwell for all eternity in the Blessed Realm, the Far West. The Undying Lands of Valinor.”

He paused, letting the gravity of the words sink in. “At last, they are going home.”

A wave of applause rose around us, filling the air with a swelling pride I hadn’t felt in a long time. I rose, as did the others, and the sound of clapping and voices around us filled my senses. I smiled faintly, but my gaze shifted to Galadriel. Her eyes were distant, as though she was seeing past the crowd, past Lindon itself. There was a shadow in her expression a question lingering between her brows, and I knew, even if she did not speak it aloud, that she did not share the same peace everyone else did.

Later that night, I walked beside my brother, our path illuminated by the warm glow of fireworks that arced through the sky, lighting up Lindon’s familiar spires and towers. I watched them with a quiet reverence, feeling the weight of the coming departure press down on me.

______________________________________________________________

The sun cast a warm, golden glow of Lindon, filling the city with an almost ethereal light that stretched across every hall, every tower. Knowing I would soon leave all of this behind created an ache I could not dispel. I took to the library, as I often did when I needed a reprieve. Rows of ancient texts and scrolls, carefully bound and beautifully preserved, lined the shelves. This place had always brought me solace, each book a piece of our people’s story, our victories, our sorrows, our dreams bound between their pages.

I pulled a heavy volume from one of the upper shelves and settled into a quiet corner, flipping idly through pages, hoping the calm of the library would soothe my restlessness. My hand slipped, and the thick book in my lap tumbled to the floor with a loud thud, flipping open on impact. As I reached down, my breath hitched. An illustration of Celebrimbor was etched on the page, his proud profile accompanied by a brief passage detailing his work in Eregion, his unyielding dedication to his craft, and his legacy – the last descendant of the House of Fëanor.

I traced my fingers over the inked outline of his face, letting my hand linger over the familiar slope of his cheek, the intensity of his gaze. The artist work captured his spirit so perfectly that it almost felt as if he were there beside me, his laughter echoing in the quiet library halls, his thoughtful silences filling the space between us. The small paragraph detailing his accomplishments felt hollow, reduced to words on a page, missing the warmth of his voice, the way his eyes would light up when he discussed his latest creation. I felt a pang of loss, wondering he would ever understand what he had meant to me.

I closed the book and put it back on the shelf, with a sigh. I had come to the library for comfort but had found none, so I walked back to my chambers. I sat down at my writing desk, a blank parchment spread before me. I wrote a couple of letters to elves I would not see before I left for Valinor. I also wrote one for Círdan, even though I will see him at the Grey Havens. The words came easily as I thanked him for his guidance, he had offered me since I was a child, for the wisdom he had imparted, for his loyalty to my brother and I. And for the quiet comfort he had been. Once I finished, I folded the letter carefully, sealing it with a delicate press of wax.

I took a new spread of parchment with trembling hands and slight hesitation. I dipped my quill in the ink, but each word felt like a farewell that I wasn’t prepared to make. My hand trembled as I tried to explain my farewell to him. I wrote and rewrote my words, desperate for something that felt right, that could capture everything I’d left unsaid. But every line felt hollow, and the truth weighed heavier than any ink I could spill onto parchment.

I opened the drawer to my writing desk and with trebling hands pulled out a small and delicate bag. I opened the bag and took out the ring Celebrimbor and I had forged together. I held the ring in my palm, the glimmer of its polished surface catching the dim light of my room. It had been some time since I had looked at it closely, not since I’d taken it off my finger the day Celebrimbor rejected me. I remembered when we made it together – a simple band, had later become a beautiful ring under his watchful extra attention. Ordained with intricate etchings, the light of Eregion woven into its silver. He had added a sapphire gem and told me that it had matched the blue of my eyes. It was nothing as masterful as the Silmarils, but it might just have been for me: Because we had made it together and he had perfected it with me in mind. The ring was ours. He had given it to me, his fingertips lingering as he slipped it onto my hand with a reverence that made it seem like a promise, but alas.

After his rejection, I had tucked it away, unable to bear its touch. Yet, somehow, I had always kept it near, as if it were the last remnants of him, of the love I felt for him. I made sure to always keep the pouch with the ring inside with me during the centuries I had joined Galadriel’s company. Now, as I sat at the small desk in my chamber, a half-written letter to him resting beside my hand, I felt the familiar pang of longing I had tried so hard to quiet.

I reached for the letter, its words jagged and unsteady across the page. But even now, those words felt hollow, unfinished. And my gaze fell back to the ring, glinting like a hidden star.

With a surge of determination, I slipped it into the envelope. Perhaps it would be better this way. A final severing of what had once been, a silent farewell to the part of me that had once longed to belong to him. I sealed the envelope, pressing my fingers down on its edge, feeling a strange calm wash over me. but the moment I stood, my resolve faltered, my fingers tracing over the edge of the letter as I clutched it to my chest.

I couldn’t do it. The thought of him opening the letter, finding the ring without any words to explain – seeing it discarded, rejected…it felt like a betrayal I couldn’t bear to give him. With a trembling hand, I pulled the envelope open, the sound of tearing parchment breaking the silence. The ring slipped out and back into my palm, cool and unyielding. Without a second thought, I took a candle and held the letter over the flame, watching as the edges curled and blackened, the words reduced to ash before they had the chance to reach him.

I left the room with a hollow ache in my chest, and the weight of the unknown heavier than ever. Outside, the sun was beginning its descent, casting shadows over Lindon as I searched for my brother. I found him in his chambers, standing by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out over our city. The quiet stretched between us as I approached, my footsteps soft against the stone floor.

He turned at my approach, and his expression softened, though a deep sadness lingered in his eyes. “So, it is nearly time,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “It feels…surreal, somehow. To leave behind all that I’ve known. To leave you behind.” I struggled to keep my voice steady, but the enormity of my decision pressed down on me.

He reached out, gently resting a hand on my shoulder. “I know,” he whispered. “But you’ve given more than enough, nésa. It is time for you to find peace.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak, memories flashing through my mind – the two of us as children, laughing as we chased each other through the trees of the forests, the battles we’d fought side by side, the nights we’d stayed awake long past midnights, discussing our hopes for our people. I met his gaze, seeing my sorrow reflected in his eyes, the unspoken understanding that this was goodbye.

“I will miss you, toron,” I whispered, my voice barely holding.

He pulled me into an embrace, and I clung to him, feeling the solidity of him, the steady heartbeat beneath his chest. “And I you, nésa. You have been a part of me for so long as I have drawn breath. Remember that.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. I nodded pressing my forehead to his shoulder, memorising the feel of his arms around me, knowing it would be the last time in a long, long while.

When I finally pulled back, I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes, a rare vulnerability from someone who had always been my pillar of strength. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “May the winds of Valinor bring you peace, nésa. Until I see you again.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face as I looked up at him. I noticed that a single tear had escaped my brother’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his, savouring the moment.

______________________________________________________________

I left and retreated to my chamber, where Elrond stood waiting for me at the door, a book open in his hands as he waited. He looked up at the moment he sensed my presence.

“Elrond,” I greeted softly, my voice catching.

He closed the book and approached me, taking my hands in his, his grip gentle but steady. “I had hoped this day would not come so soon,” he admitted, his usual calm faltering.

“As did I,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

I opened my door and led him in. I walked over to my cabinet and took out a bottle of wine as I gestured for Elrond to take a seat.

“First Age bottle,” I informed as I poured us a glass, he looked shocked, but mischief glistened in his eyes.

“One might deem the occasion worthy,” I explained as I raised my glass to toast his. “To friendship,” I toasted.

“To friendship.” He repeated, as we took a sip.

He looked at me for a long moment, his gaze searching, as though he was trying to commit every detail of my face to memory. “You have always been a part of Lindon, of our people. Your absence will be felt deeply.”

I reached across the table and squeezed his hands, offering a faint smile. “Thank you, Mellon. For you friendship, your counsel… for everything.”

He smiled, a sadness mirrored in his eyes. “Promise me you’ll find peace in Valinor. That you will not let regret follow you across the sea.”

I nodded, though a part of me knew that letting go of everything would be more difficult than I cared to admit. He drew me into a warm embrace, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel the comfort of his presence, the familiar warmth that had been a constant in my life, these last few centuries.

When we pulled apart, he placed a hand on my shoulder, his gaze gentle but resolute. “Safe travels, Arínel,” he whispered.

With a final, lingering glance, he left my chambers, and I was left alone feeling the weight of my goodbyes settle upon me.

______________________________________________________________

The ship cut through the silver waves, bearing us closer to the shores of Valinor. I stood at the prow, the sea air cool against my skin, wearing my ceremonial armour. Beside me, Galadriel stood tall and proud, the soft light of the dawn touching her features in a way that made her appear almost otherworldly, as if already a part of the Blessed Realm we were destined for. I was glad that she would be going with me, that I would have a friend in Valinor. Underneath our armour we were clad in robes of soft white, our burdens left behind along with the war, or so it was said. And yet, as we sailed closer, I could feel the heaviness withing me grow.

As we drew closer to Valinor, I stood at the front of the ship, the ring now resting on my finger once more. It was strange, comforting even, the weight of it against my skin – a bittersweet reminder of all I had left behind in Middle-earth. The waves lapped at the bow as a soft song drifted from the west, mingling with the melody that had begun in my heart. a welcoming song, one of peace and promises, yet it only deepened the ache inside me.

The light of Valinor danced on the horizon like a living thing, a song drifting across the water that seemed to come from the world itself. It was a melody of peace, of eternal rest, a promise of comfort and release form sorrow. And yet, despite its beauty, I found no joy in it. My heart remained tethered to Middle-earth, and I felt a familiar pang of longing – not for Valinor, but for those I had left behind. Celebrimbor’s face came to my mind unbidden, and my brother’s final embrace. Their smiles, their voices, their presence, like the scent of the earth after rain, clung to me even as the undying light of Valinor grew nearer. As I watched in awe of the light of the Undying world, the song the heaven was singing we were de-armoured standing all in white gazing into the rift in the sky where the golden light shone.

It was in that moment that I felt it – a tension, almost invincible, like fraying thread in a tightly woven cloth. I turned to Galadriel, sensing the same unrest within her. She had the look of one burdened with more than memories, as if the light awaiting us was too bright, too final. Her fingers clenched the railing, her face set in an unreadable mask.

Without knowing why, I reached out, my hand finding hers in silent offering. Her gaze shifted to me, surprise flitting across her face. Her eyes locked onto the approaching shores, but something in her gaze flickered, a shadow crossing her features, dark and foreboding. Her hands tightened around the edge of the railing, her knuckles pale against the wood.

“Galadriel,” I whispered, reaching out a hand toward her, as I noticed her beginning to take a couple of steps back after she refused to pass over her brother’s knife.

But before I could speak another word, she looked at me, her gaze fierce and wild, and then, in a single fluid motion, her hand clasped around my wrist. There was no time to react, only a sharp intake of breath as she pulled us both over the edge of the ship, the world tilting as we plummeted into the icy embrace of the water below.

For an instant, I was submerged in the shock of it – my lungs burning as I struggled to surface, my heart pounding with a mixture of anger and confusion. We emerged from the water, grasping for air, the waves lapping at us as the ship continued its path, growing smaller in the distance, until the night sky turned black, and the ship had disappeared. I stared at her, my heart racing, anger and betrayal flooding my veins. Anger surged in my chest as I faced Galadriel.

“Galadriel” I seethed. “What have you done?” I demanded, my voice sharp as the saltwater stung my lips. “You made us leave the ship…leave Valinor behind!”

But the anger in my voice felt hollow, as though it were just a guise to mask the relief that pulsed within me. Beneath the anger, I felt a quiet thrill, a whisper of something I dared not name. the truth, frightening and strange, settled over me like the shadow of an unfamiliar ghost – I didn’t feel the terror I should have; I didn’t mourn the shores of Valinor as they faded beyond the mist.

Galadriel was silent, her gaze fixed on spot where the ship had vanished. Her face, usually so composed, held a look of unspoken turmoil, as though a war raged within her that not even the Undying Lands could quell.

For a long moment, she did not answer, her gaze lost in the distance. And when she finally spoke, her voice soft, as if she too feared the truth of her words. “There is much left undone in Middle-earth, Arínel. Darkness stirs, a shadow unbound. And we cannot turn away, not yet.”

As we floated there in the stillness, I felt the certainty settle in my heart. whatever peace might await in Valinor, it was not for us – not yet. The call of Middle-earth, of all we had left behind, sang to me as deeply as the ocean itself, filling me with a quiet, enduring purpose that no land of eternal light could erase.

The song of Valinor faded as the waves carried us father from the ship, and in that moment, my fate was sealed. My heart lay in Middle-earth with the greatest of Elven smiths, and even though he has rejected me, I cannot bear living in a world without him.

(Stay tuned for Part III)

#Celebrimbor x reader #celebrimbor #the rings of power #brimby #Gil-Galad #galadriel #rings of power fanfiction #Charles Edwards you handsome fucker #writing #Charles Edwards #fanfic

105 notes · View notes

rogueddie · 1 year ago

Text

Part one, Part two, Part three

El wakes him up, the same way she did the previous day; softly.

"Good morning, Steve," she says, with a quiet voice and gentle hand on his shoulder. She smiles small, but genuinely, when he blinks his eyes open. "We are having eggos for breakfast."

"Again?"

"You do not like them?" She sounds concerned. "I can ask-"

"No, I like them," he quickly corrects.

"Great! Come on!"

As soon as he's out of bed, on his feet, she gently grabs his hand and leads him out to the kitchen. Hopper is already awake, cooking, and greets them with a wide smile.

"Any plans for today?" El asks.

"Not today," Hopper says, plating their breakfast. "After yesterday, I thought it better if Steve stay home. If that's alright with you, kid?"

"Sure," Steve nods.

"I can hang out with him?" El asks, perking up.

"If that's what he wants."

"Steve?" El asks, turning to him with wide, pleading eyes.

"What we be doing?"

"Oh! I have a lot of ideas! Max let me borrow some of her stuff, too. Although, she thinks you might not like some of it and that I should try something else if you do not want to try, so I have backups."

"And... that's ok?" He asks, glancing between her and Hopper. "If I say no?"

"Kid," Hopper starts. His voice is low, serious- the way Steve always hears adults get when he's said something wrong. But he looks worried when he slowly sits down, turning so he can face Steve. "Why do you think that wouldn't be ok?"

"I dunno," Steve lies, shrugging. "Grown ups are weird."

"They are," El agrees, nodding solemnly.

"Steve, you can say no," Hopper says, gently grabbing his shoulder. "Doesn't matter to what, or why. You can always say no. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Good. Eat up, before El steals it."

"I would ask first!"

It's nice, Steve thinks. How easy, comfortable, they are. She's not scared to talk back, and he understands that it's playful. They try to encourage Steve to speak up, join in, but he's happy to watch them.

"You know where everything is?" Hopper asks El, as he prepares to leave. "And what to do if-"

"Yes, I know," she quickly says. "We will be ok. I will make sure he is ok."

"Don't doubt it," Hopper ruffles her hair. "I'll be back for dinner."

"You better be."

El holds up a hand, waiting, listening. And, as soon as the sound of Hoppers car is too far to hear, she grabs his hand again.

"He will be late," she says, shutting the door to her room behind them with a flick of her wrist. "It's fine though, I know where he hides things, and it gives us more time to have fun."

She pulls a bag out from under her bed, tipping it upside down and dumping the contents out onto the bed.

"We can talk about what you don't want to try first, if you like?"

"Um... ok?"

"Great!" She lifts up a small bottle first. "I was thinking we try painting nails first. Max recently showed me how to do patterns with it. I'm really good at daisies."

"I like daisies," he offers.

"Me too!" She grins, putting the nail polish to one side.

El, Steve is quickly discovering, is perfect. She is more than happy to skip the things Steve is uncertain about, reassuring him that they could try again later if he wants. She's only interested in finding the thing that they both enjoy.

He only ends up with one daisy, painted on his thumb, but El doesn't care.

"You let me paint a base," she reminds him, when he asks. "And it matches your sweater that I got from Robin!"

"What sweater?"

The sweater is yellow, matching his nails, just like El said. It's massive on him- almost ridiculously bigger. Even with the sleeves scrunched up, he can't get his hands free. But it's soft, bright, comfortable. Something about it makes him feel safe.

"You got this from Robin?" He asks.

"Yes! She brought a few things over that she thinks you might like. She wants you to feel safe and loved."

"Oh."

"Are you ok?" El takes half a step closer, hands raising, uncertain and panicked. "Are you sad?"

"No, I'm fine," he chokes out, rubbing his face. "Everyone is just so nice to me. I didn't even do any special things that get rewards."

"You don't need to do special things. We are your friends and we care about you." She grabs him, pulling him in for a tight hug. "And we are going to do lots of nice things together because you deserve it."

And they do.

It's easy to get lost in it, after that. Easy to forget why he should be avoiding certain things, easy to forget that he would usually get in trouble for trying on "girl" things or wearing make-up.

It's easy to let himself enjoy himself. It's easy to let himself enjoy spending time with El. It's easy to be... happy.

By the time Hopper gets home, only a little late, Steve feels almost drunk with how happy he is.

"You kids have a good day?" He asks, only pausing for a minute when he spots Steve. "What did you get up to?"

El follows him to the kitchen, recieting their day, excitedly explaining which things they both enjoyed and what they had to scrap.

Steve is only confused for a moment- Hopper truly isn't phased by all the "girl" things that he'd done with El. He barely even spares a glance at the frilly, pink socks that El has lent him. He seems, like El, happy that Steve had a good time and nothing more.

"Are you guys, like... real?" He has to ask. "Why are you so nice?"

"Would you rather us be cruel?" Hopper counters.

"Well, no..."

"Then what's the problem?" He raises an eyebrow, nodding to himself when Steve can't think of a response. "Good. So for dinner..."

part five

tag list for those who asked (if you want taking off lmk x) : @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful @ratboybubs @ocapmycap @ellietheasexylibrarian @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @little-trash-ghost @lazyavenuewhispers @paintsplatteredandimperfect @mightbeasleep @anaibis @sleepyboosstuff @thesuninyaface @morpheusmunson @notfrogsunderatrenchcoat @novelnovella @tartarusknight @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @malicia62 @tencents121 @lightwoodbanethings @steddie-steddie @dragonmama76 @weirdandabsurd42 @lenathegay @theequeervibes @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @g4ys0n @subversivecynic @bleedingoptimism @eyesofshinigami @disrespectedgoatman @skiddit @chaoticlovingdreamer @estrellami-1 @chrystal-lovee @m-owo-n @fandommaniac123 @jackievsn @greekgeek24 @ajeff855

- idk why some peoples tags aren't working, sorry if yours is missing + I'm pretty sure we've reached the limit for how many tags tumblr is willing to let me add to a post 😅

#stranger things #steve harrington #eleven hopper #jim hopper #ficlet

581 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 8 months ago

Text

Polish and Shine (Supernatural One-Shot)

Sam Winchester x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Sam chews on his nails a lot. Too much. You come up with a plan to break the habit.

Fic type: comfort, fluff

CW: this lil fic contains mentions of Sam wanting to explore his gender : ) not much, just mentions of him enjoying feeling feminine (please be gentle with me, this one has a lil piece of me in it).

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels @nervoussystemss (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's not something you noticed a lot at first. To be quite honest, your social awareness wasn't the best, and looking at people head-on was something you struggled with even after you got to know someone.

But you did start noticing it. It seemed that he did it more at night when it was just him and his thoughts and the big dark room lit up only by his laptop at the table. On a side note, he was going to ruin his eyesight if he kept that up.

But he also did it in the Impala, or after a disturbing interview, or even just when Dean was late back from some girl or guy's place he picked up at the bar.

Chewing his nails... Sam was always chewing on his nails. You understood why, of course. It was an anxiety thing. A stress thing. You'd be lying if you said you didn't fall victim to the same impulse sometimes, but the amount of nail-chewing was starting to worry you.

It had gotten so bad that Dean had started slapping at Sam's hand if he noticed him raising it towards his mouth, one hand on the wheel and his eyes piercing warning daggers into Sam's soul as he pointed at him accusatorially. A silent "stop it right now before I turn Baby around."

It only stopped him from doing it so much on the road. Less so anywhere else. You'd been keeping a quiet eye on Sam the last few days, watching him chew his nails back to the skin. Irritating the skin and the keratin so much that it was probably hurting him. You weren't even sure what was worrying him so much.

You'd been brainstorming ideas to help him with the impulse for a few days until it finally came to you one morning when you were making a med-kit run- stocking up on all the things you all would definitely need at one point or another.

Nail polish. Of course! You'd picked up a couple different colours- given they were all out of transparent along with your bandages, iodine and Betadine and headed back to the motel of the day.

Sam had looked at the bottles in your hand with a raised brow when you brandished them. He picked one up, twirled it around and set it down on the counter.

"Do you want me to paint your nails for you or something?" He asked. Now, you couldn't say that wasn't appealing and that you weren't keen on that idea, because you were, but that was not the purpose of this little exercise.

"Maybe later, Sam. I got them for you-"

"For me?" He cut you off with one of those little huffy laughs he was so good at. You pulled a chair out and sat down, setting the bag on the counter and grabbing one of the bottles.

"Yes, for you," you reiterated, reaching for one of his hands. Sam allowed you to take it and take a look at the abused fingers. "Look, I- I've noticed you chew your nails a lot- and this looks like it hurts. I know Dean wants you to stop, and I imagine you'd also like to break the habit, yes?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, averting his eyes from your warm gaze.

"Yes," was his soft reply. You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze.

"This might help you break the habit. Plus, you'll look super pretty."

Sam snorted. His eyes darted back to look at you, and you really saw how shy and vulnerable he was feeling at that moment. It made you want to wrap him up and keep him safe.

"So, they didn't have clear," you explained, voice soft as if trying not to spook a deer. Or a moose, you supposed, in this case. "But I got you a few colours to choose from. Which one takes your fancy?"

You know exactly what he's going to pick before he does it. The forest-green. He hands you the vial and you let go of his hand to shake it up and unscrew the cap.

Sam sits patiently for you while you work, occasionally clearing his throat or giving you a quick smile. It doesn't take long, only a few minutes. Let it dry, then another coat. Let that dry. Done.

"There, all done," you exclaim, leaning back and stretching your back so it pops nicely. "Very nice, very nice," you approve. Sam fans his fingers out and juts his lower lip out thoughtfully.

"You know- I kinda like it," he blinked as though the discovery shocked him. "Can I do yours next?"

And so began a tradition. Once a fortnight you'd both paint each other's nails. Dean even got into it after a few weeks, getting his own done, too. Sam had been worried at first that Dean would make fun of him for his nails, but the only thing Dean had said after he returned toting beer and Chinese food was "nice choice, Sammy" as he cracked a beer and propped his feet up.

Sam continued to chew on his nails for a bit. It was a learning curve, after all, but he did end up slowing down and eventually stopping completely. You hadn't mentioned to Sam that he'd stopped just in case he hadn't realised, but you and Dean had shared a beer over the silent victory. And when Sam brought the victory to you both a few days after that, all three of you shared a beer then, too.

You and Sam continued to wear different shades and Sam even learned to put the polish on himself, though he vastly preferred you to put it on for him. Considered a bonding moment, which was cute. Dean would participate occasionally, and eventually, Sam admitted that he liked how feminine the polish made him feel.

After that- things sort of migrated from just nail polish to brushing his hair and experimenting with colour in his wardrobe. That was all he was really comfortable with for now, but that wasn't a problem. You were just glad he felt comfortable enough to share such personal information with you.

You both loved each other so much, and one of the best things about found family was that you knew you would be pillars of support for each other.

No matter what.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #spn x reader #spn x you #sam x reader #supernatural one shot #spn one shot

153 notes · View notes

anantaru · 2 years ago

Text

✧ ۫ 𑄼ల۫ ۪ sfw scaramouche boyfriend headcanons

we all know he deserves some fluff in his life 🩰

genre: fluff, gn! reader, kissing, lots of love, gossip boyfriend kuni (my favorite personal hc)

+ ˚ gossiping while cuddling (gossip bf kuni)

without a single doubt, quality time like that one in particular was surely scaramouche's favorite and according to him, nothing else could outbid it either.

and, well, this is what he always aspired, to have you close by his side so you'd be secured and loved forever.

enveloping you with both tenderness and warmth, kuni had placed his head against your own to listen to your incoherent mumbling about your day.

how come your breathing was calming him so greatly? your heart, it sounded so fragile, stirring him on to protect it even further.

more often than not, you'd also ask him to tell you all about his past work place, you weren't sure what made it funnier, the stories scaramouche would come up with from time to time or the way he was telling them to you.

full of disgust and demeanor, it was safe to say he hated everyone there.

from what you can see, it was clear as day kuni loved sharing stuff with you, didn’t matter what it was.

he wasn't eager to do so in the beginning but gradually loosened up to the idea of sharing things with his s/o.

yet in truth, and that goes without saying, scaramouche was actually quite invested in the gossips and little stories you'd tell him, he'd ask more than you would’ve thought he would about them.

the worst, jarring, possible outcome would be for you to leave him on a damned cliffhanger, it was infuriating and irksome, so annoying!

his hands are now tightly entangled in yours and ever so often he‘d draw you closer as well, kissing and worshipping your tender skin while eagerly listening to the continuation of your juicy, hilarious stories.

+ ˚ painting each others nails

as you'd expect from your boyfriend, he'd do whatever you'd want, sometimes scaramouche would complain about it but do not fret, he‘d still do it regardless.

so, if you ask if he could paint your nails because you tend to mess yours up, he'd naturally agree after some bickering like "can you not even do that without me?"

but bear in mind, scaramouche wants everyone to know you're his so, what if, he'd let you paint his nails too now? it'll be a perfect outcome, a so called "win-win" situation.

"be careful!" he's squeaking as you worked your way to his fingernails, gingerly applying the black polish, slowly, you did it slow so you wouldn't mess it up.

important to note and much to your surprise, kuni was actually quite skilled in putting on nail polish on your nails.

"why wouldn't i be able to do this?"

he's shooting you a deadly glare while hiding the obvious flustered state he were in, raising a brow.

"do you humans need to be taught every single little thing?"

here he goes again, well, that was entirely different but you did not bother to speak up, being aware of his nature with words that is.

"you're just that skilled kuni."

making sure to add a little teasing, apathetic lace around your words, you had caught your boyfriend off guard, again.

he's averting his gaze from you fully now to focus on the mission ahead— that being applying polish on the nails of your left hand, but not before snarkily rolling his eyes back at you.

also in true fashion, he‘d complain every once in a while, can you stop moving? he‘s trying to get the job done, duh!

"stop wiggling around like that, you just want me to mess up!"

+ ˚ getting used to being loved

touch, intimacy and love.

three things that weren't as easy for scaramouche as someone might think.

you see, it's quite difficult to trust, to open yourself up to someone and give yourself to them in the process.

for him, it's like he showed weakness that way, something he utterly despised about not only himself, but about humans in the past.

yet as you took his hands into yours, soothing relaxing circles on his palms, the once dampened light in him, suddenly glowed yet again.

you had never seen it before like that. Of course, when scaramouche and you were together, you'd be able to coax out a couple grins or smiles from him— even with him trying to hide them, they‘ll still appear in the end.

but that glow, that damned glow and you couldn't stop yourself from looking into his eyes that shimmered with a bright indigo color.

"is this too much?" you whispered and hummed at him to be sure, not daring to overstep any boundaries or have him overwhelmed.

"yes, i‘m fine."

once, he had answered back, his hands weakly traced over your arms, melting in your skin and drawing themselves all the way to your shoulders, one second - two seconds, before pulling himself back to your hands.

the motion of it was slow and light, for scaramouche it was interesting to see how your body reacted to him.

it was almost addicting to watch and study your facial expressions— how your brows knitted together in concentration, or how he caught you chew on your cheeks as he advanced closer to your collarbones.

all the little details surely would come in handy some day, he figured.

+ ˚ conclusion and his past

truly, he wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky to have you by his side.

was this, again, some cruel trick played out by some god? or was it for one, a lucky encounter he had faced?

scaramouche was certain he'd never get this lucky again, and quite frankly, he didn't want to. His past was filled with both sorrow and hard comings, despair without a way out.

sometimes, while being close to you, while none of you spoke rather only indulged in each others embrace, he can't help himself but be encountered by those dreadful memories again.

it's as if his mind was playing dirty, as if it never let him heal but then, he's looking at you, slightly shaken and you notice, you always do.

and when you're closing the slight gap between your lips, kissing away the grim and distress, kuni had been woken up by you again, stirred from the unpleasant feelings as you reassured him that you will stay, as long as you had to until he had fallen asleep at last.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact wanderer #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #scaramouche

2K notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 2 years ago

Text

Let It Snow

Summary: Apparently, getting stuck in a cabin with Spencer isn't too bad

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.0k

Masterlist | Navigation

"We're never going to get out of here by tomorrow." She complains, looking out the window where the snow is already probably half a foot high, and it's not forecasted to end any time soon.

Maybe the idea to use some of their remaining vacation time to retreat to a little cabin in the Vermont mountainside wasn't well thought out. Although it was almost Christmas break, apparently, it was too cold for serial killers to kill, so the BAU workload was light, and Hotch was more than willing to give them time off.

But the chance planes will be leaving, or even be able to land in DC if the cold snap had traveled south, is next to zero. By morning, they might be completely snowed in.

She turns back to look at her gorgeous boyfriend, who is snuggled under a blanket on the couch, tucked up like a burrito with a mug of tea on the table. "How are you not freaking out about this, Mr. Planner?"

"Doctor Planner." He jokes. "And I'm not freaking out because I like spending time with you here."

She smiles, stepping away from the window and to the couch where she sits next to him.

The inside of the cabin is cute yet luxurious, fitted with polished wood, a grand fireplace, and nice furniture. Most importantly, it's cozy, with one bedroom off the side of the open-planned kitchen and living room. The windows are impressive, floor-to-ceiling glass that shows the rows of pine trees covered in white snow. It's peaceful and quiet, and that's what they needed.

Spencer takes his arm out of the blanket and wraps it around her, pulling her closer. "I'm not worrying because, for once, I don't feel stressed." It's remarkable, really, since he's been stressed since he was five. "Who cares if we don't get home tomorrow or this week?" He asks rhetorically. "We've got food, power, a backup generator, and, this might be my bias, but good company."

She giggles, nuzzling further under his arm. "You're right."

"I always am." He reminds her. "Now get out of your coat and shoes, and come cuddle with me."

She obliges. It's warm enough with the fire on that she doesn't need anything more than sleep shorts and a hoodie of Spencer's. She hurries back to the couch where Spencer has set up snacks.

The news on the TV is on, a weather reporter talking about a snowstorm coming over the east coast. It's not good news. "Are you seeing this?" She asks Spencer, turning the volume up as she stands behind the couch to watch the show.

He nods, unphased as he pours more tea. "Let it snow, Y/n. Just let it snow." He instructs, taking the remote and turning the TV off.

Y/n huffs, sitting down next to him. He pulls her closer so they can both see out the wide windows at the settling sun and pink-painted sky.

"Don't you think it's so beautiful?" He asks. There's a soft wonder in his expression that's usually not there. She imagines it's what baby Spencer looked like opening his college textbooks at thirteen.

She places her fingers on his cheek while they both stare at the scenery. He hasn't shaved since they left, and it's a good look on him. "Not much snow growing up in Vegas, huh?" She asks.

"Maybe twice." He recalls, turning back to look at her. She leans forward to kiss him a couple of times, appreciating how warm he is to be around. "I don't mind it, though, because it makes me feel like a little kid now." He confesses. "Like I had encyclopedias when I was a kid and I still love learning facts, but it's not a novelty."

He could not be any cuter, all soft. It melts her heart completely. "You're adorable." She tells him, holding his cheek tighter when he tries to hide his blushing by turning away. "Stop. I'm your girlfriend, I'm allowed to say you're cute."

"Can we just lay here forever?" He wonders. "Stare at the bright stars, then watch the sun come up, see the snow falling all day, and look at the sunsets."

It does sound ideal. "We might need sleep, though." She reminds him.

Spencer's already thought of that. "We can do that here, too. I just want you to always be this close."

She leans forward to kiss him a few more times. "Sounds like a good plan." She agrees, pressing her cheek to his so they can both look out the window. "This is going to be my happy thought now." She admits. "You know when there's something horrific at work and you have to think of a good thing to balance it?"

Spencer can feel his happy thought changing as well. "What was it before?" He asks curiously.

"The first time you kissed me." She reveals.

He pulls back in shock. "God, really? That was horrible."

She shakes her head. Maybe he was sweating because of how nervous he was, and maybe his lips were only on hers for a short second and he had no idea what to do afterward, but it was them. "It was sweet."

"I'm just glad my Ph.Ds were a redeemable quality." He jokes.

She laughs with him. "Baby, everything about you is a redeemable quality, even though you don't have anything that needs to be redeemed."

"I really love you." He says softly.

"I really love you too." And she really doesn't hate unpredictable weather events anymore.

Tell me what you think

Taglist

Join here

@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @doctorspenceryeet @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @morganwilliams @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @idkbubs @mochionly @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @sassymoon @nomajdetective @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17 @tanyaherondale @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @lovingsherlockmolly @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @jakiki94 @narryl0ver @justreadingficsdontmindme @hobireasns @goldentournesol @kbakery @kaitieskidmore1 @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @kbakery @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @geekykeen @thisbitch-6 @andreead @kayleea122 @xoxospencerreid @dirtytissuebox @xoxospencerreid @jaydahlynne @sultrypotter @awhoreforspencerreid @sprinh @doe-eyed-fallen-angel @kamilaxq @beans-beanz @malindacath @halloween-is-my-nationality @kenny-0909 @mexicosuitrry @lucyysthings @iheartfinnthehuman101 @vane28282 @mente-sindescanso @lucyysthings @tatespillows @cecethoughts @manuosorioh @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @barbietiingz @grandhideoutavenue @feelinlento @i3k2ts @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @sanaz1dlol @ant-mans-tacos @mente-sindescanso @yumuramma @bubblebuttwade @bellarkeselection @spenceswifewhore @barbiekatz @itseightbeats @neptunes-curse @sucker1-1punch @nyx2021 @stilinski-void-04 @dirtytissuebox @daydreaminrry @mysticfalls01 @furiousladyking @gildedstarlight @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidsmexyconverse @scargarcia-magshotchner @wdytminy @rio-reid-whoreee @lovelyxtom @b3ast1706 @slvdsjjk @beenz-beenz @alltoowell-lilysversion @la-reine-des-enfers @mochi-moons @itzliyalupin @queenofrandom @ryswritingrecord @ynbutbetter @thxtmarvelchick @allthingsfashionn @justlivinginadaydream @liltimmyst @catertotshitposts @max-mml @crynroom @sugarcoated-lame @lilibet261 @bts-sugaplum @dezibou @a-marlene-s @crynroom @tracysnook @spencersprettyslut @alexxavicry @reidingspence@melonmochi @thicksexxualtension @haylexo10 @rosaliedepp @bport76 @dirtytissuebox @itsmekarlam @saintnourah @liltimmyst @mikkelsenlover @spencer-reid-wonderland @dirtytissuebox @esoltis280 @berenicexd @lyn07 @crynroom @taysatlantic @alphabetbarnes @4margaritasalex @namelesslizz @allisonslibrary @suckmyass-things @jasminesacademia @littlemoon-fairy @lucy @waywardhunter95 @neptunes-curse @rayrayfrommindless21 @regulus-black-223048 @dingusfreakhxrrington @sluttt444slashersss @little-miss-blinder @fdl305 @feltonswifesworld87

@happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog / @bunny-script / @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @ceeellewrites / @randommmguerr / @sinnxagain / @goofygubler7 / @alotdreamers / @resident-boygenius / @nibb / @coffeemochicat

@reidsbookclub @gublerstwilight @k-k0129 @spookyspence @eevee0722 @iamreallytryingiswear @dontcallmekittens @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @xhopingthis-worksx @claryandjacelover @spencersjello @mikewizkalifa @actingchica @almost-a-ladybug @foodsarcasmandyou @illegallygingerr @darkacademicwhore @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @awkwardnesshabitat @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420 @one-sweet-gubler @whovianayesha @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @parahmur @whovianayesha @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @kierstiniscrying @simonsnowsblog @usuck @geekykeen @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @sexy-dumpster-fire @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs @kitkatkaitin @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @vincentvanshoe @nervous-plant @safespacespence @agirlinherhead @maraudersminds @hopelesslystuc @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme @elnmop @ah-blossom @bellam47 @matthewgraygublerlover @liltiana-ann @happypixy380 @aaija @arrowurboat @reidsonlyangel @xreaderandshits @alohastitch0626 @nyx2021 @assemblemotherfuckers @idjit-sonovawitch @hwngslove @nycreid @helen-with-an-a @sia2raw @hufflepuffwhore13 @pastelbabygirl19 @blomfildsbeauty @hagridsmomma @differentavenue @grxnde-dwt @indecisive-asexual-stuff @hufflepufftruffle @alexxavicry @eichenhouseproperty @musethekitten @langcvn @cucufk @paperbackprettyboy @spencersprettyslut @devilslilbabysblog @padf00ts-l0ver @honey-stark @spencemylove @an0bra1n @jordierama @bellenotthebeast @cynbx @darkenwolfie @conniesanchor @cloudxxs @jellycolors @sydneekomspacekru @ccosmic-illusion @majooooooooooooooooooo

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic

1K notes · View notes

cupcakeshakesnake · 4 months ago

Text

Some old writing I did for a Harbor Town AU x canon POTC situation

So like, this is out of the blue, but some time ago I might have thought up a scenario where the canon POTC cast find themselves in the AU world and, well, not get along. Something about canon Beckett wanting to steal modern technology to get the upper hand in his war while the townspeople try to send the scurvy lot back to their time without the government getting involved.

It was mostly a mishmash of broken scenes but I wrote a bit where AU Norrington has to disguise himself as the 18th century version for some intel or other and runs into Beckett (you'll see which one).

(This was written in 2022, just so you know.)

OH AND IN THE MEANTIME here's the document for general AU ideas I had in 2021. It's been three years, I've outgrown shame.

"Lord Beckett, the Admiral is here to see you." As Groves - the other Groves - stepped forward and opened the door, Norrington tugged discreetly at his collar. It was by some miraculous coincidence that he had recently learned the general methods of donning period garb for an educational reenactment, but heck, the stuff was uncomfortable. He hoped that whatever the situation was, it would end quickly; the boots were already hurting his feet, and more importantly, he wasn't sure he could hold the guise very long.

"Let him in," a smooth voice answered. He was led into what he could only vaguely describe as an organized mess of an office. There were furnitures of very expensive-looking wood, and everything was in perfect order, but there were just so many objects - some of which he could not even guess the uses of. He had to steel himself for a moment, reminding himself that 18th century Admiral Norrington of the Royal Navy would not be caught gawking at his superior's belongings. The doors creaked shut behind him, leaving only him and - presumably - Lord Beckett in the room. He spotted a large portrait of a man standing atop a globe, as if he had conquered the world. The outfit was unfamiliar, but the face bore the likeliness of the Cutler Beckett he knew. So their version has more of an ego, he mused. He turned to face the other side of the room where, behind another one of those fancy polished wooden desks, sat the other Cutler Beckett. Which is to say, basically the same man but in a powdered wig and embroidered waistcoat. Norrington bit the inside of his cheek, successfully holding back a laugh. (To be fair, he himself was looking rather like an ice cream sundae at the moment.)

Wait, was he supposed to say something? How would a Navy officer initiate conversation? He was saved the bother by the other man.

"Ah, Admiral," he started. "Just on time. Excellent. We ought to discuss the matters previously mentioned, then?"

Oh god what was he supposed to say, he had no idea-

"But first, there are some things I need to check."

Oh no oh no oh no-

"Admiral," Beckett started again briskly, not paying attention (thank god) to the visibly anxious not-Admiral. "You were to be stationed on the Flying Dutchman before the recent series of events transpired, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," Norrington answered as dryly as possible, immensely relieved that it happened to be among what little bits of information he had picked up here and there.

"Good," said Beckett, still not looking, "that seems to be in order. Ah- one more thing. I would need your phone number."

"Zero seven-" Norrington stopped.

What?

"-five, one zero one four, and I will not mention the rest," finished Beckett in a low voice, finally looking up. The smooth drawl in his voice was gone.

"Sir, I-"

But even as Norrington's brain scrambled to come up with a plausible excuse amidst his mounting confusion, he noticed that the shadows under the shorter man's eyes looked all too familiar - and then Beckett whipped off his wig, revealing a sleek brushed-back hairstyle that was definitely not in fashion during the Age of Sail. So this wasn't the other one after all.

"Don't bother," Beckett called as he rose unceremoniously from his seat and bent down to rummage underneath the desk. "I specifically ordered the men to look for James Norrington near the piers and-" he rose back up with a handful of papers - "told them he would most likely have lost his uniform. I see it's been working out so far." He pushed the papers into Norrington's arms.

"Here, take these. They seem to have stolen some documents of mine, and while this is the majority of it there are still several missing."

"What's going on?" he asked, feeling rather stupid all of a sudden.

"I just explained," the not-Lord Beckett gave one of his scathing glances. Then his narrowed eyes softened slightly. "I explained enough. We don't have time for the full story at the moment."

He picked up his wig from the desk and replaced it on his head. "Now go," there was a hint of urgency in his voice. "Tell them you've been sent to join the reconnaissance party. They will lead you out."

"What about you, Lor- I mean Mr. Beckett?" asked Norrington, safely tucking away the papers in one of his frock coat's inner pockets.

"I still need to look for the rest of the documents," Beckett reminded him.

"What of the other... you? The Lord?"

"Oh, I think we'll have several hours before we have to worry about him, don't worry." answered Beckett with a small, rather ominous smile. "Now please take your leave."

As Norrington walked out the doors and headed up the corridor towards the upper deck, he muttered to himself, Oh god he hit him with the McDonald's sprite.

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #harbor town au #james norrington #cutler beckett #theodore groves #writing #snake's text post #fanfic

76 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

Text

Sonic Superstars!

Superstars is out! And guess what? It's good! It's a worthy new entry in the series, and I mostly like it. Mostly. Except for the handful of parts I don't. As usual, allow me to share my thoughts.

(For the record, I got the PS5 version of Superstars. I can't speak for how it plays on older hardware like the Switch, or how the weird Steam version that seems to make you log in with Epic runs. But I encountered zero performance issues, personally.)

General thoughts

The thing is, aside from two notable flaws I'll discuss in greater detail below, I can sum up my feelings on most of Superstars quickly. You see, it's... a Sonic game. This will either be a blessing or a curse depending on who you ask. It's not a bold new take on the series that'll blow you away, but they also didn't fuck it up. There's no catch this time! There's something refreshing about that straightforwardness, given how rare it is to get a regular-ass New Sonic Game from Sega. It's just a new classic-style game where you can play as Amy, set on a new island with all new zones, and Fang is in it! This might be damning with faint praise, but that's what it says on the tin, and they did a good job overall.

(It also has co-op. That's nice. I didn't play it in co-op.)

It plays exactly how it should. At no point did anything feel Wrong. The graphics might not have the absolute highest fidelity, but I think the character models look really nice, and the levels look appropriately good with vibrant color palettes. A couple zones like Sky Temple gave me Klonoa vibes, which I like. One zone is an absolutely incredible homage that I won't spoil. The story here is minimal (as expected), but there are a few good moments of telling the story through the gameplay, particularly one very cute sequence with Trip. I did find a couple stage gimmicks moderately annoying (Speed Jungle 2 and Press Factory 2, looking at you), but like... I could say the same thing about Mania, and also damn near every other Sonic game ever made. There's always That One Level. Superstars may not raise the series to new heights, but it generally executes well on the standard beats of the series. It's an easy recommendation for all fans of 2D Sonic.

Really, aside from the two big flaws (we'll get to them), this game's greatest crimes are simply not being quite as good as Mania, and also coming out the same week as the more creative and polished Super Mario Bros. Wonder. If we hadn't gotten Mania, I would easily be calling this my favorite 2D Sonic game since... what, the Advance trilogy 20 years ago? I like the Rush games, but if you asked me to replay one or the other, I might have a better time with Superstars. And, yes, it beats the hell out of Sonic 4. It's not even close. Anyone who says this game is exactly like Sonic 4 is just being a hater.

...I guess I would say that $60 is a bit steep for this, but you know it'll be on sale for a more appropriate $30-$40 in a few months. This isn't a Nintendo game we're talking about here.

Nice little tweaks

Superstars also features a number of welcome quality-of-life updates over Mania, bringing it more in line with the design ethos of modern platformers.

You have infinite lives! No more getting a game over on the final boss and having to redo the whole final zone - or, god forbid, the entire game

Time overs are gone! It'll warn you before you go over ten minutes, but I have no idea why because it doesn't kill you anymore

The game features a hub from which you can easily replay previous levels, rather than needing to beat the game or put in a cheat code to unlock the level select

This means you can easily go back and hunt for any special stage rings you missed. However, as a tradeoff, it seems like you can only get one Emerald per zone now, rather than being able to get Super Sonic by the end of the first or second zone

You can swap characters between levels! No more having to start a whole 'nother save file to play as Tails

And those characters even have optional little movement tutorial rooms available from the hub, which is great for new players who may not know about things like the Drop Dash

And, finally, checkpoints now feature arrows pointing in the direction you were supposed to be going, in case you forget upon respawning

Of course, while you might not be getting game overs, Superstars certainly compensated with some bosses that kicked my ass.

Bosses

Here's what I would consider notable flaw #1.

I have mixed feelings on the bosses in Superstars. I don't think many of them are poorly designed - in fact, a lot of them are good, and offer fun moments of spectacle. But for a 2D Sonic game, they're REALLY long and drawn out, and by the late game this was starting to get draining.

Bosses tend to be the type where you have to dodge their attack patterns for a while until you get the chance to hit them exactly once, MAYBE twice. A few bosses seem to have quicker options if you abuse your post-hit invulnerability or play as a character with a double jump, but many will either be completely invincible or run away to the background for long periods of time, making it impossible to damage them outside of the allotted windows. And even if it seems like you'll be able to get in a second hit, many bosses turn invincible and skip ahead to the next attack pattern as soon as they take the first hit. Again, most of these fights aren't BAD, but because of this behavior they sometimes take almost as long to beat as the entire levels preceding them. This didn't bother me much early in the game, but against the more challenging bosses towards the end that kept killing me several minutes into a long fight, it got tiring. The final boss of Story Mode probably took me like an hour.

While this certainly isn't an uncommon style of boss design, part of me suspects they did this for the sake of co-op players. For one, playing in co-op means that you don't necessarily have to start the entire fight over if one person dies, so I assume the length is less of an issue. But in particular, true classic-style Sonic bosses that you can just hit repeatedly with good timing would go down in a few seconds against a team of four players. Likewise, the swarm of clones from the "Avatar" Emerald power would probably obliterate every Genesis era boss with one button press. So I get why every boss needs all these invulnerability periods, but still. I at least wish they'd made some of those attack patterns shorter and given you more frequent opportunities to deal damage.

Emeralds and their powers

Speaking of the new Chaos Emerald powers: they're neat, I guess? They're fine. I didn't use them much. Actually, I kept forgetting I even had them - although the game will play a noise and show an icon in the corner of the screen to remind you any time you reach a spot where a specific power is useful. Avatar, the first power you get, is at least good for getting a couple free hits in on the trickier bosses. Yellow's ability to slow time is obviously good, but, again, I always forgot I even had it and made it through just fine without it. I was also pleased to realize that the swimming power is useful for the water levels and not just for climbing up waterfalls.

Oh, and the new grappling-based special stages kind of suck, but they're not the worst, and I'll at least give them credit for trying something new. (Motion Sickness Zone from Sonic 1 does return as a bonus minigame, but I only did it once lmao.)

Battle Mode

I haven't played Battle Mode. Couldn't tell you if it's good or not. It did, however, give us official designs for Metal Tails and Metal Amy after all these years, and also it let me make this:

...Okay, enough beating around the bush. Let's talk about the thing that REALLY drags down the experience.

The soundtrack...

(This lengthy section on the music will feature some light spoilers for things like zone names and themes.)

Now, don't get me wrong. There are some bangers in here that I've been listening to on loop. But this is one of the most inconsistent soundtracks I've ever heard, and I'm not sure I've ever played another game where the music has such a sharp dip in quality in the back half.

As anyone following this blog knows, prior to release I was a little obsessed with trying to gauge what the soundtrack would be like. "Jun Senoue" and "new Classic Sonic game" naturally evokes the memory of Sonic 4, but from the start we knew Tee Lopes was involved as well, and almost all of the music previewed before released leans more towards the sound of Sonic Mania than anything else. I was hopeful! I was excited! Jun deserved another chance at doing another classic Sonic OST, and Tee is one of my favorite game composers of all time between his Sonic material and other works like the TMNT: Shredder's Revenge OST. I frequently thought back to this Sonic 4 remix medley by Jun and Tee as a reminder that these two could really be the dream team, bringing out the best in each other's work.

Sure enough, the front half of the game is largely dominated by the Mania sound, whether it's a track by Tee himself or one by an in-house Sega artist that's compatible with his style. Pinball Carnival Act 1 by Rintaro Soma (an up-and-coming composer who wrote a bunch of the Cyber Space themes in Frontiers) takes obvious inspiration from Mania's Studiopolis Act 1, to the point that I was shocked when Sega posted the track and revealed it wasn't written by Tee. Act 2, however, forges more of its own sound by leaning into the act's spooky haunted carnival theme. And despite being the music lead, the only level theme that I know for sure was written by Senoue in the front half of the game (Bridge Island Act 1) was actually arranged by Tee Lopes to give it more of that Mania sound. Hell, the level clear jingle is literally just the one from Mania. A few level themes by other composers don't quite match that style, but they fit in well enough.

But there are early signs that this sound won't be consistent throughout the game. Our first warning of things to come is the boss music:

youtube

When early copies started floating around and the soundtrack leaked, many, many people hoped that this was merely a placeholder, like the literal Sonic 4 Episode II music used in the earliest previews of Speed Jungle, and that it'd get replaced with a day one patch. Oh, those poor, innocent fools...

Even if you don't mind the poor production with the returning Sonic 4 faux-Genesis sound, this is a very simplistic thirteen second snippet of music that then plays a second time in a higher key before it loops. This wouldn't be the end of the world if the bosses were as short as the ones in the Genesis games, of course, but they're not! This theme is used for a ton of lengthy fights throughout the game, including an EXTREMELY long and tedious autoscroller boss at the end of Golden Capital Act 2. Maybe I would've enjoyed the bosses in this game more if they were paired with some earworms that'd get me hyped up and sell how cool and exciting the fights are supposed to be, but grating songs like this just made the minutes spent fighting those bosses feel like an eternity.

Still, boss music (and menu music) aside, all of the level themes in the front half of the game ranged from decent to great, with the peak easily being the phenomenal Lagoon City Act 2 by Tee Lopes. And then... I got to the back half of the game. And the Mania style completely disappeared, replaced largely with the dreaded Sonic 4 sound. That isn't the style for EVERY song in the back half, but even the ones that try something different tend to be weaker than the material from the first six zones, with less engaging melodies and less intricate arrangement. Many sound straight up unfinished, leaning on extremely basic synth patches with no personality. And there isn't a single track from Tee in the back half. He just disappears from the project altogether.

What this means is that we go from this absolute banger by Tee Lopes in zone 6, which elevates what's otherwise a bog standard desert level to a thrilling adventure:

youtube

To... this, in zone 7:

youtube

It's EXTREMELY jarring!

The thing is, this is actually one of the better tracks in this style. I have to assume this is by Senoue, because you can totally hear a good Adventure or Heroes era Senoue track in there once you get past the crude synth replication of the Genesis era Sonic sound. Senoue is still a great composer, as you can hear clear as day with Bridge Island, but he's working with a restrictive sound palette that doesn't play to his strengths at all. If only he'd bust out that damn guitar, or at least pick some better synths.

(And no matter what people will tell you, no, this is not an accurate recreation of what the Genesis's YM2612 chip really sounded like, nor is it representative of what it CAN sound like at its best. Go back to the Streets of Rage 2 or Ristar soundtracks if you need a reminder.)

While I can at least see what the Press Factory tracks were aiming for, some other faux-FM synth tracks are just really bland. They don't have anything interesting going on, and they also don't seem particularly tailor made for the levels they accompany. They're just attempts to mimic what Sonic 1-3 sounded like on a very literal level. Take, for instance, the Golden Capital Act 1 theme, AKA "we've got Sky Sanctuary at home." While the better level themes in this game enhance the mood or even completely carry the vibes of a level, the weaker tracks can really suck all the air out of the room and make a level feel like more of a slog.

What kills me is that there are, in fact, a couple examples of how to do throwbacks to classic Sega FM synth music well on this very soundtrack! They're just not the Sonic 4 type tracks. I love the Frozen Base Act 2 theme, presumably composed by legendary Sega composer Hiroshi "HIRO" Kawaguchi, who's responsible for all-time classic arcade soundtracks like Fantasy Zone, Out Run, Hang-On, After Burner, and more, as well as the hacking and pinball themes from Frontiers. Maybe to an untrained ear this doesn't sound all that different, but it has a catchier tune, better instruments, and stronger production overall. I'm also a fan of the track for Sky Temple, which isn't perfect, but it blends a few Genesis-esque instruments like the Sonic 1+2 snare with other instruments for a richer sound. If the whole soundtrack sounded more like these examples, I'd definitely be complaining less.

I really just have to wonder... how did this happen? How did this end up being so inconsistent? Many fans on social media are jumping to the conclusion that Senoue is just extremely stubborn and refuses to ditch the style from Sonic 4. I can't deny this possibility, but some things just don't add up. The almost complete lack of "retro" style music in the promotional material. The fact that the style just suddenly shifts halfway through the game, then disappears for the final zone, as if that's not the note they want to end on. The complete lack of any tracks by Tee Lopes in the back half. The focus on the Mania-style tracks in the bonus "mini soundtrack." And most perplexing of all, the fact that three of the first tracks you hear in the game were Senoue compositions that were given extra attention with arrangements from Tee Lopes.

This is pure speculation on my part, but it almost seems like they straight up ran out of time.

Perhaps Jun wanted more of his tracks to get full arrangements from Tee, or for Tee to contribute more songs, but things were down to the wire and they chose to leave in some of the raw Sonic 4 style demos. The soundtrack being crunched out in a matter of months at the end of development would certainly explain why Speed Jungle had to be demoed without its music a mere four months ago. It'd also explain why a game that's only a few hours long needs NINETEEN composers listed in the credits. And also the fact that multiple zones just have completely different, unrelated music by different artists across their acts. Did they need multiple artists working on different acts simultaneously, completely independent from each other with no time to cross reference each others' work, due to extreme time constraints? I'd buy it.

Ah well. It's not the end of the world. I've heard worse Sonic music. But I'll always think of what could have been...

At least the final battle with Eggman at the end of Story Mode has a pretty kickass boss theme, which ALMOST makes up for how bad most of the preceding boss music is (and the fact that that very difficult fight doesn't have a checkpoint between phases and took me like an hour to beat lmao). It even seems like it might be written by longtime Phantasy Star Online composer and recurring Sonic contributor Hideaki Kobayashi. That's the guy who wrote NONAGRESSION!!!!!!!

The postgame

Speaking of beating Eggman! It turns out Superstars has a good deal of postgame content, as merely beating the last zone with all the Chaos Emeralds doesn't take you to the true final boss. In order to do that, you'll need to do something else.

Before we hit the big spoiler warning, I'm going to give any future players who are still reading a warning. If you value your sanity... don't force yourself to do all the postgame stuff. Don't make the mistakes I did. It's not worth it, and it may very well knock your personal score for the game down a couple points.

----------------------------------------------------------------

SPOILERS FOR THE STORY, UNLOCKABLES, AND THE POSTGAME BELOW THIS POINT

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

----------------------------------------------------------------

The bonus scenario

Sonic Superstars has a big surprise in store for anyone who beats the main story. For the first time since... what, Silver? In 2006? We finally have a brand new playable character in a new Sonic platformer! (I wouldn't count the player avatar in Forces as a full-fledged New Character.) Yes, after the credits roll, you unlock Trip as the super-secret fifth playable character. I was really excited to see this. Trip is cute, even if her masked appearance from early in the game is perhaps a more unique design than a Sonic-ified lizard girl who can only vaguely look like a real sungazer lizard. She IS the first new Sonic character Ohshima has designed since the '90s, though, so she gets points for that - and she gets even more points for literally turning into a dragon when she goes Super. We love a girl who can turn into a dragon, don't we folks? And her playstyle is fun, too, with a double jump and the ability to roll along walls and ceilings.

But Trip isn't just playable. Like Knuckles before her, she gets an entire alternate story mode of her own, which somewhat remixes the level layouts, generally makes things more challenging, and swaps out Eggman for Egg Robo. I was so excited to see this! It really felt like the game had so much more in store for me than I'd anticipated.

...Then I spent probably around three hours attempting to beat the new final battle with Fang at the end of Trip's Story. And it made me regret doing Trip's Story at all.

Once you learn the patterns, a lot of them are actually piss easy. But the difficulty comes down to a few misguided factors:

The fight is LOOOONG. On a successful attempt the whole thing will probably take the average player about, like... seven or eight minutes? Maybe longer? This is where I really started to get pissed at the game for making me wait through these stupid attack patterns before I could attempt to hit the boss once.

The fight is divided between two phases, one with Fang in a vehicle and another with him in a giant robot, with no checkpoint between them. Dying to one of Fang's bullshit attacks on the second phase means having to redo the ~5 minute first phase all over again. And, worst of all...

Fang has multiple projectile attacks that are guaranteed instant kills, even if you have rings.

Also there's a stupid desperation headbutt attack that can really easily catch you off guard and kill you, but I only got that far in the fight once.

It's the instant kills that got me. If those fucking immobilizing net attacks just made you drop your rings, or you could at least wiggle out of them by mashing buttons (EDIT: apparently you CAN do this but you literally have to button mash so rapidly that it's a crapshoot whether or not you'll physically be able to do it), it would have been totally doable! Kinda fun, even! Slow, but pretty cool in terms of spectacle. But nope! Three hours! Three hours on this! This is, without a doubt, the hardest boss I have ever faced in any Sonic game, period, and one of the hardest bosses I've ever seen in ANY game. All because of one attack pattern where making a tiny mistake means starting over.

The glitches didn't help, either. Something about the way the circular boss arena was set up in both stories' final battles seems to make the floor intangible sometimes for non-player objects. Occasionally my dropped rings, enemies I was supposed to knock towards Fang, or one of Fang's insta-kill projectiles would just fall through the floor randomly. This definitely wasn't my main problem, but it helped drive home the idea that this fight just wasn't worth my time.

After three hours of attempts, I gave up. I just went and looked up the ending of Trip's story, as well as the contents of the Final Story, on YouTube. Turns out I made the right call, because boy, that true final boss looks like dogshit. It's just a very dull fight against a big generic cartoon dragon. Apparently this is the thing Eggman was looking for. It appears and is defeated with little fanfare. I think I liked it better when I assumed the scary dragon being foreshadowed was just Super Trip.

...Also, hey, what's up with The End being very conspicuously visible in the background of the last zone?? I know it's just a cheeky cameo, but, like... isn't it supposed to be sealed away in Cyber Space right now? Should I be taking this literally? Does this have lore implications? This is one hell of a way to remind people that the timeline's been reunified, I guess

Closing thoughts

I really hate to part ways with Superstars on a sour note like this, because like I said up top, I mostly enjoyed my time with it! It's really just a small handful of particularly frustrating bosses and the inconsistent soundtrack that drag it down. Other than that, it's solid as a rock. Maybe wait for sales if you're not dying to play it, but it's definitely worth playing for any Sonic fan. Just... skip the true ending. I would have stepped away MUCH happier with this game if I'd done that.

I wanna try to end this on a more positive note but I'm tired, so, uhhhh... look, you can unlock a Metal Nights skin for your Battle Mode bot!!

Anyway back to jamming to about half the soundtrack on loop while pretending the other half doesn't exist, and looking forward to the continued Fang Renaissance with his upcoming IDW miniseries

#tkp post #other media

246 notes · View notes