#i need to link this to my verse page rip

[namenoted]

REPOST AND UPDATED VERSE INFORMATION FOR YAGAMI’S “WAMMY BORN” AU:

he is the letter R in the wammy house of alphabetical children, and is in the running to be the next L. he wants to fully commit himself to being a detective, and hopes to surpass L.

collects notebooks, journals often, and writes everything down —— ie his ‘quirk’ (near with games/toys/puzzles, mello with chocolate, etc)

is generationally flexible, from first to last gen wammy children for ease of threading.

after being brought to the UK at 8 and living at the wammy house until 18, raito lost a heavy portion of his accent, and speaks primarily english with the other children. he speaks japanese (his first language), german, english, mandarin, thai, french, spanish, and dutch.

this is the non-death note canon affiliated in that someone else probably gets the death note from ryuk; although there are variations where R can still be gifted the death note, it is a primarily non-kira au

physicality: he is not as obsessed with looks as he is with being the best. this is the first time he’s surrounding with peers that actually challenge him and where being #1 is not so easy. well put together, plainly dressed (button ups, khakis, white socks), dark circles beneath the eyes from lack of rest, underweight (as he is in canon, technically…), dead ends/hair is dryer and lacking in nutrition, and skin is generally very matte in appearance. he is paler in this verse due to lack of interest in athleticism, having a slight interest in tennis (unknowing that L himself too was a tennis player). nails are blunt and strangely typically bit, worn down from a habit of anxiety.

instead of being put off that he’s consistently compared to L, his usual rival, he thrives off this. he wants to be like L. the heirship program gives raito that obsessive need to pursue an endless goal, and while it doesn’t fill the void he endlessly finds himself having, it creates a fantastic distraction.

knows his father was a police officer. has two photos, one family photo and one of his parents. it’s all wammy was able to provide him.

raito knows his real name, though it has since been redacted; he is only R now.

since raito dyes his hair in his main verses (and subsequent AUs like it in theme or circumstance), it’s something he doesn’t actively do in his wammy verse, so technically raito has black hair.

he has dryer hair, more dead ends, and isn’t as actively focused on his appearance, instead completely obsessed with his goal to be the next L. while he understands physicality is important in canon and he actively uses that to his advantage, seeing as L works solely behind the scenes, and that physicality isn’t also a huge indicator of anything advantage wise in the wammy house, it’s not as important to him

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet:

[therosebunpost]

A very Berry reunion!

A S.B.B verse Drabble!

You meet Steve again, but this time you’re hanging off the arm of a certain infamous metalhead.

CW: None for this chapter, but please be aware that this is a 18+ story!

———

Steve doesn’t see you again until weeks later, after Starcourt goes up in flames. After him and Robin become best friends for life and Steve starts having issues with his hearing and sight. What was an occasional occurrence was happening more frequently, and Steve started to wear glasses for the first time ever. He hated them, but he hated not being able to see even more.

The job at Troy’s Thrift came about as more of a need than any actual interest. After Starcourt, Robin and him were left jobless and traumatized. Trying to appeal to Keith’s better nature hadn’t worked, even when Robin tried to use Steve’s looks to their advantage.

So there Steve was, wearing a bright yellow polo and brown slacks, ringing up Hawkin’s discarded and abandoned items. No plans for the future, saddled with migraines and rapidly declining senses. He kind of felt accepted amongst the ratty old stuffed animals and dilapidated furniture.

He hears you before he sees you. You’re wearing a mostly pink and red ensemble, with…a domino and poker chip belt? However what takes him aback is the man standing beside you. All ripped denim and chains, Eddie Munson leaned over to press a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. Your hands are linked, and you’re currently smiling over something he's said.

Well, that’s just great.

“Harrington? Well fuck, as I live and breathe.”

“Did you guys find everything you were looking for?” Steve asks, cutting through any questions the older boy had. He sits up a little in his chair, reaching across the counter to pick items up. He’s already had a few people from school sneer at him, and he wasn’t keen on hearing the same from Eddie The Freak Munson.

“Yeah, we did. Got quite a haul going this time, huh, Bun-Bun?”

Steve was looking at the ticket on the Berry tea pot, but he could see the way you nodded enthusiastically from out of the corner of his eye. He picks up the next thing, and does a double take. An…owl radio? He vaguely recalls seeing something similar in a movie, but it’s lost on him what it was.

“Great, cash or card?” He asks, leaning back in his chair and looking at you both. He realizes that the poker chips have pink designs around the rim. Cute. He looks up at you, but you quickly look at Eddie who pulls out a wad of cash with a tiny grin. “Cash, Sunshine.”

The nickname makes him double take, blinking behind the counter. “…Okay, here’s your change. Do you want a bag or a box?” He juts his thumb over at the bin of boxes, which Eddie gleefully wanders over to, leaving him alone with you once more.

You offer another smile, fishing out your notepad and scribbling in it. It’s a strawberry theme on the cover this time, instead of flowers. Your rings were also pink, and shiny with fake metal. He wonders if you raided the local gumball machine for more accessories.

‘Thank you, Steve. How are you? I haven’t seen you since Starcourt.’

“…Fine, yeah I’m fine. Robin and I managed, if you can call working here managing.” He chuckles, looking around at the tiny store. For once he’s really glad that you have a notepad with you, even if the words occasionally make his head swim. It was a little easier to read than hear sometimes.

‘I really like this place. I imagine you find a lot of cool things in here, it must be hard not to take them home.’

Steve suppressed a snort at that. What would he do with a bunch of old junk? Still, he nods. “Yeah. It looks like you did find some cool stuff. What are the flowers for?” He nods towards the heavy, iron flowers in a bag.

‘I’m going to use them as new knobs for my drawers! Eddie and I are going to paint them together outside today since it’s still warm out!’ You quickly flip to another page, where a doodle of a dresser could be seen. It was covered with flowers and funky colors made using highlighters. It was too bright for his taste, but it fit you just fine.

Steve chuckled, amused. “It’s pretty.”

“Babe, this one work?”

The two of you look over at Eddie who came shuffling over with a box with Grapefruit slices painted on the side. “I was thinking we could use the box too!” He starts gathering your things, and there it was. That awkwardness that came with watching customers pack up in silence.

Steve looked over at his calculator, fussing with the buttons. It’s only when Eddie clears his voice that he looks over and sees you giving Eddie a look.

“It uh…it is nice to see you, man. That…that Starcourt shit was terrifying. Glad you made it out in one piece.” Eddie smiles slightly, and Steve is disarmed. He hesitates before nodding slowly. “…You too, Munson. You uh…worked at the record store, right?” He offers and it’s Eddie’s turn to be taken aback. “Yeah! Yeah, was a great gig. M’workin’ down at the mechanics now though.” He shrugs, tapping the counter.

Steve noticed some plastic rings mixed with the genuine metal. Red, plastic jewels twinkled up at him. Did you insist to match, or did Eddie? He couldn’t help the slight smile playing on his lips at either idea.

Taglist: (DM to join) @ali-r3n

———

—-

-

[mitmjrips]

Dare to Be Born Again Catholic Linear Notes

I dare you. I double dog dare you. I triple dog dare you.

God dared me to be open for this album. I prayed every day. Putting on some meditative music, I listen carefully to him. This project is a new era of Mit. Listening closely, I began sharing my ideas with a higher power.

I always wanted to not quit. I just don't feel happy if I'm not making music. Sometimes, I feel like I want to be a private person and only make music for myself. These periods are short.

I could write to beats I like without fear of copyright. But I feel compelled to share so I never went down that road. I feel like a constant energy that makes me feel the need to share.

I make the beats by myself. I know very little about music theory. I know very little about the production at all. I keep the music simple, because the lyrics hold the power. I tried being a spoken word artist, but I missed the song structure.

Returning to music was a big process. I went in a pop direction right before this album. I call that period the curse of Exit Light.

Exit Light was the last rap project I made before Dare to Be Born Again Catholic. I had many ideas to branch off from Exit Light.

Each attempt at an album failed. I decided to toss out rap for months. I began transforming rap tracks into pop tracks.

Something in me wanted a big return to rap.

This album I had a plan. I wrote down a tracklist and stuck to it. The last time that worked for me was Renewal and Shadows. I decided to have a loose concept for this record. It is very similar to Renewal.

Like Renewal and Shadows, this album was a reintroduction from me. I thought of changing my name like I did during the Renewal time.

For Renewal, I went by my real name Timothy Morgan. I decided to keep Mit MJ Rips because that was the name of the YouTube channel I post under.

My other belief was this music had to be written in a state of grace. I went to confession before writing. That lasted a couple days before I relapsed into sin. By the end of the album, I decided to make some music in sin. Tracks like Catwoman are inspired by that lust.

While writing in not a state of grace, I put out a bunch of teaser tracks. These 1 minute one verse songs were made as a lyrically exercise. The Teaser Mixtape is a bunch of small songs trying to sample my sound for the new album.

Mit MJ Rips has officially rebooted. I decided not to chase the past and only release new stuff. All my old writings are going to come out as shorts down the road. I began recording some classics that I will post on YouTube shorts and TikTok.

The website is getting an overhaul. I released some books there already. I also made an announcement of my first project on it.

The announcement plays on this theme of Truth or Dare. I always love messing around with themes of truth. One link was titled Truth. It brings you to a page where I say to be honest I'm working on an album.

If you pick dare, it will reveal the title of the album.

Here is a Bible quote about my album. The reborn concept is strictly biblical. I'm a born again Catholic.

John 3:3-7

[3] Jesus answered and said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” [4] Nicodemus said to him, “How can a person once grown old be born again? Surely he cannot reenter his mother’s womb and be born again, can he?” [5] Jesus answered, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. [6] What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of spirit is spirit. [7] Do not be amazed that I told you, ‘You must be born from above.’

I am currently writing my first memoir focusing on music. I want to publish it for my fifteenth anniversary. That's next year.

Dare to be Born Again Catholic is inspired by Daredevil from Marvel. There is a famous graphic novel called Born Again which I read years ago.

I liked the idea of being born again as a Catholic. We get reborn each time we receive a Sacrament. I cannot wait to share my new self with videos.

Born Again Catholic was a series of tracks I wrote based on each sacrament I received. I posted all four parts as music videos on my channel. They are Baptism, Confession, Communion, and Confirmation.

The first track is a glimpse of my relationship with God. I feel we are now on the same page. He helped me write so many songs. I feel some of them we butt heads but now I feel like we are on the same page. It also is a nod to my time spent as a writer. I am going to share most of my writing in a book called Complete Honesty.

Prayer for Purity is a skit that I will replay as a daily prayer. My road to purity was not easy. I struggled with lust for so long. It blended into this album too. I am going to be honest on this record and documentary. As time passes, I am going to change for the better.

Mary Help of Christians is a track I teased with a video called Mary Help of Christians Lost Verse. I made this lost verse one Sunday during Church. I decided to release it as a teaser.

Somebody on tiktok who was anti Catholic responded. I made a track in response called Community of Saints. The initial title was Pagan since he called me Pagan but I changed the title to more reflect the content.

Mary Help of Christians is the crux of my first actual religious song. I released Walk into the Light recently and that song inspired this one.

My Motto is my second single from this album. I wrote it with the idea of school mottos. My grammar school's motto was live Jesus. I wanted to create my own motto. In the past, my motto was, “Life is full of problems. I don't make them mine.”

Now, my motto is I carried a turkey through Vietnam. A statement which came from word salad originated in my mental health journey. I am going to release so much content in May about my struggles with mental illness. I wrote a book which is on my site about my whole time in the hospital. This motto means I survived a difficult task.

Stakes was one of the few tracks which I believe should be parental advised. I wanted to raise the stakes. And I said things out of line with being a Catholic. I used those words to raise the stakes. I feel some of my content isn't for everybody so why worry about what I say.

Lucy’s Game is a short two verse track. The reason I chose this song to be on the album is because of the placement. It's the sixth song. Lucy is a name I used for the devil. It originated on To Pimp a Butterfly. I decided to use this name in my own music. I kinda like this name for Lucifer because Satan and the devil are too masculine. I like that my demons are female due to my past with porn addiction.

Józef's seventh track is a brief interlude. Józef is my Saint Character. I got the name from a World War 2 Saint. His name was Jozef Kowalski. He was a Salesian Saint that was assigned as my Saint during my brief time with the Salesian order.

I took Joseph, the foster father of Jesus as my Confirmation name in the seventh grade. I decided to release music under this name. Most of the songs under this name are sung, but I recently changed that since I hate my singing voice.

This might be an opening to return to a singing album down the road. For my 15th anniversary, I am going to work on making music videos for my pop tracks. I got a list of ideas that I will work on.

Born Again Catholic started as a series of tracks based on the sacraments. In November, I uploaded all those original songs.

This new song has a verse for each sacrament I received which are Baptism, Confession, Communion, and Confirmation. These old songs inspired the name of this album. I love this series and I hope to add to it if I get married.

Catwoman is inspired by a movie I shouldn't have watched. I took lines from that movie and mixed them in the lyrics. I won't give any other hints to promote that video. I feel bad that I consumed that media. This song is not supposed to glorify those types of videos.

I explore this fantasy I have on the record. The idea of being seduced really simulates me. Probably a product from my past influences me.

The Dare is based on a fictional game of truth or dare. Sometimes, I need that push to allow myself to escape my comfort zone. This track may play into my next album also. I might reference it on my next project.

Holy Water is a spiritual track. I use Holy Water every chance I get. The idea of purifying myself is healing. This track brings back the idea of God that the last two tracks shied away from.

The Light Continues is a skit that has a great meaning. In 2023, I made an album titled Exit Light. That was going to be the last of a series of albums. This created a curse which I couldn't break. Every project I made after Exit Light failed to be completed. It took me to reinvent myself to make a new album.

One More Night is a transition track. This track is going to lead into my next year project based on a night of sin. I won't mention the name of the next album. This will come out in late 2025. After Dim's Mixtape, I am making an album based on sin. That's all I will say.

Dare to be Born Again Catholic streaming on YouTube. There's a link in the description.

[wordsandsound14]

Top 50 songs of 2023

If you checked out my top 20 albums, thank you. If not it’s on the next page and make sure to check those out. Now it’s for the songs and this year had some really great songs. The albums were pretty good but the songs here were all really solid. Previous years (especially the past two lists when I started to listen to a lot more music) the song list was a challenge but nothing to the extent that this one was. After making some tough cuts, I had difficulty making more and I had 100 songs left. When I was organizing, I made some more and got down to about 75. Those I had to just cut like ripping off a band-aid. I did it fast since I knew my top 50 couldn’t be changed and I needed to stick with my list. I feel pretty good about that decision. So here it is, a top 50 and a playlist link. My only honorable mention is Switchfoot’s “Meant to Live” since it got re-recorded and it was an anthem of my year.

50. Vines - “I don’t mind”

I honestly don’t remember how I discovered Vines. I don’t think it was from TikTok but I honestly don’t remember her from Discover Weekly. I was like her song appeared in my playlist and when it came time to rotate her out, I decided to listen more to her music. Vines has an experimental ambient sound that are all slow burn layered songs with very interesting vocal processing. “I don’t mind” is a somber song that has the listener feeling what she is singing about as it builds up to more emotion without the song getting explosive. Vines has become an inspiration to me and a goal. An artist that I would personally love to collaborate with at some point. And they aren’t even a high caliber artist, but certainly still has a crowd listening to her. So here’s to hoping in the near future that maybe something can happen.

49. Cobra Man - “Take a Rest”

What a weird song. But there’s something about it that just works. There’s a lot of creative expression that I really appreciate that they are willing to be strange. It’s not that far out there of a song but it does have an energy that isn’t my typical song. The combination of synths, production, and acoustic guitar with a good rhythm and they made themselves a pretty good song.

48. Citizen - “When I Let You Down”

Picking a song off this album was difficult since it’s a pretty consistent album. But I chose this song for its solid verses and memorable chorus. The drums keep this song moving forward and the guitars play along and feels like it guides the vocalist to tread the same ground. There’s an energy to this song that keeps me coming back to it.

47. Chase Petra - “Reliable Narrator”

I remember hearing this on discovery weekly and I just fell in love with it. It has the usual indie rock vocals over alt indie rock music but it works for the song. I like how she doesn’t stick to the usual song format of “verse-chorus” but she doesn’t disrupt it either. She embellishes upon it to keep it interesting. It’s just a solid song that hits the nail on the head for me for this type of genre.

46. Dominic Fike - “Bodies”

Dominic was someone I found through the Barbie album because I loved his song a lot on there. I checked out his record and it was a cute album and liked his sound overall. But this song really stayed in my brainwaves. It shows his rapping-singing that he does occasionally. The thing that I gets me is the hook and the catchy chorus. It’s not a long song but it’s one I enjoy every moment I get with it.

45. HM Surf, Arbee - “Gava”

HM Surf is a lo-fi artist I follow and it’s always nice to add some music of that genre into my daily listening. This one stuck with me through the whole year for its incredibly designed drop and atmosphere. It’s a truly incredible listening experience and stands above the rest in a genre that’s difficult to stand out in.

44. Liquid Girlfriend - “Spongebob Halftime Show”

It’s a great title that’s meta and gets your attention. It’s a solid indie rock song that has a great flow to the song as it builds and breaks. And I can feel the energy of the recording session also. It’s one of those songs that the band loves playing live as much as the audience loves to hear it live and all of that is transferred into the recording.

43. Ed Sheeran - “Plastic Bag”

Ed put out two albums and my rule is that if an artist releases two albums in a year, that they are allowed two songs on a list if they qualify. So I will say that Ed will show up again. This song really showcased what I loved about Ed being raw with his emotions and incorporate it into what made us fall in love with his music. The acoustic guitar is more rhythmic than melodic and he finds a chorus that’s easy to sing along with.

42. Michigander - “Stay Out of It”

Michigander has been an artist that I haven’t committed to listening but has been floating around the same circles so I’ve heard a decent amount of songs. I did check out this EP and I was sold. There’s plenty to go back to listen to but I’ll at least hear the stuff coming out. This song was the one that got me listen more. It hooked me with the guitar and melodies. It’s just a solid song and showcases how good Michigander is at their craft.

41. Tilly Louise - “Join the Club”

There’s something so charming about Tilly and her music. Her charisma bleeds into her music as she’s able to put an energy into her song that most artists struggle to do. It’s an indie rock song that acts like a pop song. It’s catchy, it’s fun, and makes you wanna hit the replay button. I listened to her EP and I’m excited to hear what comes next for this artist.

40. Charlie Martin - “Splash”

This is the second time I came across this artist and luckily this song was released this year. He’s got a nice indie folk sound but also incorporates some midwest emo influences into the song through the vocals. It’s a song that’s good at slowing me down and getting me to feel the moment.

39. CARR - “Spiral City”

I can’t but help to smile when listening to this song. It’s so ridiculous while also being a solid rock song. It’s a song that is really fun to show other people just to see people’s reactions. There’s a couple more on the list like that but this one will be the start of that trend. It’s one of those songs that if you aren’t listening to the lyrics, you’re still gonna have a good song.

38. Switchfoot, Dayglow - “Adding to the Noise”

This felt like a match made in heaven, it’s my favorite artist with one of my wife’s favorite artist. And it was the song that she loved most from the Switchfoot concert too. I loved what Dayglow did with the song. He made it his own without changing the core of the song. It always feels difficult putting cover songs on a list like this since history plays a lot into a song. But this one was one that I just couldn’t get enough of. Dayglow did amazing.

37. Liza Anne - “Cheerleader”

You can’t tell me this song doesn’t get you on your feet. Its bass line is so infectious and the melody is so catchy. And the brass incorporated makes this song that much better. The song doesn’t let an ounce of creativity go to waste as she puts everything into this song to be the new icon of her sound.

36. Daisy the Great, illuminati hotties - “Time Machine 2”

Daisy the Great has become one of my favorite indie artists as of late as they continue to prove how good of songwriters they are. And illuminati hotties took one of their songs and made something special with it. It’s electrifying and the build up is perfect. I can hear how much they also love Daisy the Great. Hopefully there will be more collaborations from Daisy if they are gonna sound like this.

35. Foo Fighters - “Show Me How”

I don’t think anything sounds more like healing and trying to move forward than singing a song with your daughter. Losing a family friend and a mother/grandmother isn’t easy, especially when it’s close together and this song feels like the embodiment of those emotions. I’m glad they don’t try too hard to make a really depressing or dramatic song. Foos made something that feels like them and having Dave’s daughter here is one of the most natural fits.

34. Crown Lands - “Starlifter: Fearless Pt. II”

Bear with me here, it’s almost a 18 and half minute song so it’s long even for prog standards. But this band is like if Ledd Zeppelin did prog. It seamlessly blends the multiple parts of the song with call backs to 70’s rock and 80’s synths but with a modern approach. It’s a journey that I love going on with this band. This was the song that got me to check out their record. And while that didn’t fancy my tastes as much, this song encompasses all that you need to hear from the record in one amazing song.

33. Jacob Collier - “WELLLL”

I can’t thank my brother enough for introducing me to Jacob Collier. He’s a really talented songwriter and hearing his next project feels like watching a future veteran paving their career path. And this feels like a moment in his career that is worth paying attention to. He flipped the script on us since he’s known for his well produced electronic pop music and he made a solid alt-rock song in his style. It’s layered to the heavens and back with a great hook.

32. Petey - “I’ll Wait”

Petey went from my TikTok page to my discover weekly and I feel like I should be checking out his album now since I’ve already liked two of his songs and this one is making my year end list. But this song just hits me in the heart somehow. It’s got the energy that I crave and Petey’s voice is amazing. I really enjoy the timbre of his voice, especially in the higher range. Man this song is fun… I should check out his record.

31. Teenage Wrist, Softcult - “Still Love”

This was another record to find the stand out song. I went with this one because of the Softcult feature. I’m not even familiar with the band but I adore how the vocalists sound together. It’s the pure rock bliss that feels like two soulmates singing together. The post grunge of this song is strong and that final chorus is just chef’s kiss.

30. Fwango - “Cover My Eyes'“

I’m not sure if myself or my wife found this song or if we individually found it ourselves but she really loves this song, and so do I. I think she would have it towards the top of the list but I’ll place it here. It’s still a great indie rock jam that has a little bit of a bedroom rock influence in it, especially in the chorus’ melody. It’s definitely been the sound of the year since she likes to play a new found song a lot.

29. Wolves of Glendale - “Loud Ass Car”

I found Wolves of Glendale early this year and I’ve heard their releases as they came out this year and this one was the one that got me to laugh the most. It’s a great synth rock song that works even outside the great lyrics. This is a great comedy band that I can’t wait until they put out their first record.

28. Sam Smith, Calvin Harris, Jessie Reyez - “I’m Not Here to Make Friends”

This is the club song that I love most from the two on the record. This one is more so the pop song between the two but the bass line on here is groovy and the chorus is so much fun to sing along too. I’ll admit that the chorus carries the majority of the song for me but it really is that good to me.

27. Hannah Wyatt - “40 years of holy rain is looming overhead”

Hannah is able to paint a canvas of time with an instrumental track that is able to make a setting and tell its story with melody and notes. It’s haunting, it’s moody, and it feels impending. The doom washes over you as every instrument tells you what the rain will entail. It’s well crafted and beautiful.

26. Sweet Pill - “Starchild”

Sweet Pill is another band that’s made their way into my heart with their insanely great rock songs. Great guitars, vocals, and drums this band has it all. And this wasn’t even part of a record release. It may have been a left over track but I love their music. I hear their vocalist and I just want to have them on repeat, even if it is a slow burn of a track.

25. Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors - “Find Your People”

Drew probably has written the book that tells you how to write the next big folk, country, pop song that reaches the hearts of many. He’s become incredibly consistent with writing heartfelt songs that are also just fun to hear. And you can picture hearing them live and the energy that’s there too. It gets the crowd on their feet and it really makes their fans feel like a family. But that’s all the neighbors wanted, was a family to sing their songs and that their music was what brought them together. It was about finding your people.

24. Zach Bryan - Ticking

Another hard choice since the record is so consistently good but I chose a song that embodies the record for me. The guitar being played in the outskirts within the south for a small audience. Zach really wasn’t made for the fame that came his way and the only thing he knows what to do is make music about it and say it something from his heart and that just makes the world fall more in love with him. I think this song really showcases his personality the most and what kind of musician he is.

23. sundial - “grass is greener”

sundial was found through discover weekly. It was this song that got me interested in them and checked out their ep and got me hooked so I would be following, They make cute indie pop songs but with a very organic sound with two vocalists that compliment each other really well. But I love the storytelling that they do in these songs that pulls me in. Across their whole ep they write in a way that pulls me into the song. It’s relatable but it’s also not my story. They know how to make the small details be theirs but also resonate in a different way with the listener.

22. Royal Blood - “Shiner in the Dark”

Royal Blood still has rockers even on their albums that don’t hit the way you remember. Something about the distorted guitar/bass and the infectious beat that keeps me coming back. But really it’s the shiny sound during the chorus that I love the most. It’s not over done but done enough that it doesn’t keep you waiting. It’s overall just well made and rock out every time I hear it.

21. Flowers for Emily - “Sitting Confused”

Something about midwest emo really hits my heart. I didn’t listen to the genre specifically but there were influences in some of the music I heard this year. But this is a full on representation of the genre and I just break down from these songs. Something about the formula of the genre. And nothing did it quite like this song for me. It’s reflective, it rocks, and it's emotional.

20. blink-182 - “ONE MORE TIME…”

This song is so incredibly written. It tells the story of the band and why they are doing a reunion album in such a raw and heart on sleeve way. I know that Tom’s singing sometimes is a little silly but they commit to the heartfelt nature of the song regardless and I think it pulls it off. A goofy band getting serious is sometimes the way to really pull at the heart strings. It’s a well composed song and I adore the bells during the chorus and adds to the room of the song.

19. Sears - “House Song”

I don’t get a lot of songs from TikTok since it’s usually not my genre, I’ll hear it a thousand times in the app already, and discovering artists on there feels like a nightmare. But this has been an exception for me. Every time I heard this song, my heart sank. The poetry tiktoks, the depressing slideshows, and the motivational ones. This track slowly wrote itself on me and it helped me in times when the hours felt long and hopeless. Sitting in my car during lunch break as the sun sets over my work building. It’s dystopian but it’s beautiful in its own way.

18. Gregory Alan Isakov - “Sweet Heat Lightning”

Nothing painted the picture of the album quite like this one for me. The beautiful piano accompanies the guitar and gives a rich picture of a white desert. It’s lonesome and begging to be endured. I feel like I came out the other side alright but it was still brutal to get through. Alan captures this all so well.

17. Avenged Sevenfold - “Nobody”

Hearing this song as the lead single sent shivers down my spine. Avenged Sevenfold had made a comeback for themselves with The Stage and this lead single felt like the marriage between classic Avenged with the new one. The rest of the album was kind of all over the place but this song still stands out as being something only a veteran act could make. It’s like a homecoming in a way and a great one.

16. Blue October - “Sobriety”

The Blue October I knew at the beginning of the year isn’t the same one at the end of the year. I won’t get into the details but the reddit fan page has been debating it back and forth. Regardless of my feelings of the band currently, “Sobriety” is a well crafted song that feels like the new sound put on the overdrive. The softer atmospheric new sound with the rock sound. It molds itself into something different from the beginning to the end. It feels like a progression through life and overcoming. It’s the one of the best metaphors put through sound alone, especially in a commercial aspect.

15. Point Taken - “Stranger in the House”

My buddy has a band in Nashville and they finally came out with their music this year with an ep. It’s a rock band that uses brass to embellishment on top of it with influences from classic rock, pop punk, and prog. It’s a really interesting sound. The more songs they put out, the better they get. They released a single after the ep and this is that song that feels like pop punk meets prog. It’s a song that feels very intentional with every part and only great musicians could have put together. If they keep this up, they’ll be touring big in no time.

14. Waterparks - “Closer”

I’ll let the song do the talking on this one. I’ll just input that the vulnerability on this song hit me right when I needed it. The Waterparks album was more having fun with their struggles this time but this song stripped it all away and it really spoke to me.

13. Benny Sings, Remi Wolf - “Pyjamas”

This song is so damn cute. The metronome kinda irritates me but when the song gets going, it’s easy to ignore. But they made a song that just wouldn’t leave my brain. The chorus and how they say the words with the circus like piano. Showcases Benny’s production skills really well. The fact that he committed to the metronome and I still love this song proves how much he knows what he’s doing. This song along with Paramore’s has got my ears looking out for Remi too.

12. Genesis Owusu - “Leaving the Light”

There were great songs on this album and it was hard to pick a favorite when this song was just so objectively good. The force of this song that makes you pay attention and it opens up the album. It’s insane how Genesis was able to come up with this song. It’s an engine of a song that when it gets revving, it doesn’t stop. And it thematically sets up the album really well. Just impressive.

11. The Maine - “I think about you all the time”

The album kind of sounds pretty similar with all the songs so picking a stand out was a little hard but this song kept standing out to me. I love this chorus of the fun pop rock. The Maine captured an infectious energy with this album and kept it running throughout it. I think what really makes this song standout the most is that the verses stand out compared to the other songs since they all have this really great chorus.

10. slimdan - “Nosebleeds”

What a song to find on discover weekly. It’s just a simple mostly acoustic song but he wrote a song that every mid-20’s person is feeling that is feeling behind in life. So you know… perfect for me. I feel like I'm doing alright mentally and all that. I have days I struggle like everyone but I just look at where I am and it gets me feeling like I’m still in the nosebleeds. Man… it’s hard to be open about this year.

9. Paramore, The Linda Lindas - “The News”

This was a tough one to count on the list or not. I went with it cause it was the year I fell in love with The Linda Lindas. They took one the rockier songs from the This is Why and went harder. I already liked the original but they produced this song really well and added a lot of energy to the song that wasn’t there before. Their drummer is insane and I think she’s the youngest too out of this teen band (like 14 or 16). I think Hailey Williams saw herself in this band and really wanted them to be part of their remix album. And they blew this song away.

8. Movements - Tightrope

As much as a rocker album Movements made, it’s the softer song that feels more like their classic sound that I loved the most. Probably cause it felt the most relevant to me. I feel like all someone has to do is look at these emotional songs and read the lyrics and they can peel back the cover of my book. Regardless, the music here is super well crafted. It honestly doesn’t even sound like Movements until after the first chorus. I remember when it came up on shuffle and I didn’t remember liking a heartfelt pop song but the lyrics were telling me why I hearted it. Then it got rolling and I knew who it was. But the intensity of something like this is very Movements. Only something they could make.

7. Sleeping At Last - “Bright Sadness”

Sleeping at Last had a really tough time since they lost their mother. I felt the sadness through my own lost grandma and through my hard year. This song’s piano fading from left to right and how it replicates a tide. It’s beautiful and love the lyric “It’s been a year at the mercy of a merciless tide.” What a line. And I can feel it all in my throat as he tries to accept the merciless tide. It’s been a year of growth hasn’t it. Then he hits with the violin and it’s over for me at the bridge.

6. Ed Sheeran - “F64”

I still don’t know what this title is but I stopped caring when this song hits me the way it does. Ed did the hip hop thing that he’s really good at with piano underneath it. And a great bass line that’s kinda poorly produced but it’s also why I kinda like it. It feels like a song that was made quickly and it’s messy but that’s how he feels. Ed’s lost a lot of people too and it feels like it all comes out during this song and the meme of Ed feels like it gets shedded off. If he made stuff like this and did a whole album, I think a lot of people would take him seriously again.

5. NEEDTOBREATHE - “The Cave”

I may have felt like they missed hard on their album but this song… THIS SONG is something else. It’s anthemic, it’s suspenseful, and it’s exciting. It’s built up so well and I couldn’t stop thinking about this song and how well crafted it is. It’s no wonder the album fell short when this song is on it. They took notes from somewhere and they ran with it.

4. Spanish Love Songs - “Haunted”

This is the type of stuff I wanting to hear from the band. Something new enough but it didn’t betray the band’s sound. There’s a push in this song that I hope they end up exploring more for later. The synth feels seamless with their sound and the lyrics are still gripping and feel like ripping apart the rib cage. Me and my homies all get scared of Spanish Love Songs.

3. Arm’s Length - “Arm’s Length”

I have always thought it was kinda weird to have a song after your band name. Very few do it but Arm’s Length pull it off and it really does make sense as it represents what the band does for music. Their post hardcore sound influenced by pop punk and midwest emo. I fell in love with their sound at the beginning of the year and haven’t been the same since. It makes me want to cry my eyes out and turns my spirit blue. I’m really excited for any new music from them since they just manage to make music that just hits me every time.

2. Glen Hansard - “Sure as the Rain”

You’re on an old boat that creaks and it’s dusk. The sailors are singing a folk song from one of the mountain lands they visited, even incorporates foreign language into the song. Their deep growly voice is used for soothing than anger. It’s slow and loving. This song was something I was waiting Glen to do and he even went above what I was wanting. It’s a song that feels timeless already.

Billie Eilish - “What Was I Made For?”

I don’t really think this could have been anything else. No other song kept me up at night like this one. Even thinking about the song makes me emotional. Listening to it literally breaks me. This song is almost solely the reason why the Barbie movie has the emotional weight it does. And I don’t even think of it within the context of that movie. In a year that was as emotional as it was, this just felt like it was its calling card. “I don’t know how to feel / but I wanna try” has basically been the motto for me. Despite all that’s happening with the economy, the war, my relationship, my job, my goals, my bad days… it all can feel like a mess and shutting down feels appropriate to not think about it. But I want to try. Try to feel it all, accept it all and move forward. Billie captured an amazing song here and I hope she can keep up with the high bar this song sets for herself here. At the same time, she keeps doing just that.

[ireallymisscoffee]

okay so imma sneak mobile. it's 6am... i planned to sleep earlier >.> i do intend to work through this list this week. tomorrow i'll probs be sorting through screencaps for the eps.. cause i need those for banners, for promo and banners.

tracker !! i cant find shit rn

verses page once & for all, but have to sort through screencaps before

get the new tags going (add them to nav)

promo & more banners? im gonna keep my theme game-inspired to get the message across but i wanna like have 2 versions of each banner so i can use game or hbo as i'm feelin' like XD also bc pedro stole my heart

maaaybe spend 50 hours re-tagging all my joel fc posts with new tag bc old new one broke and can't be tracked ahahaha rip me.

starter call starters

lowkey wanna write down headcanons? especially on pre-outbreak joel and how that all got jumbled after?

learn how to throw scars on joel's beautiful face with PS? or find an artist to do it for me..

update pinned with new links etc.

[after-witch]

Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis:  The first time you laid eyes on your child, you knew: You had to get out. Set in the ‘White Picket Fence’-verse. 

For request: Something with Overhaul + the reader’s children and manipulation (I’m sorry I accidentally deleted the original message so I don’t remember the exacting wording!)

Word Count: 3328

notes: yandere, stockholm syndrome, abuse

From the instant you laid eyes on your daughter, the moment your gaze took in her fresh, wet skin and her small, blinking, uncomprehending eyes, you knew: you had to get the fuck away from Chisaki Kai.

The realization was instant, like a flash, peeling away years of manipulation and training and forced self-acceptance of your situation. Years of justifications and excuses that had wormed their way under your skin, forcing you to see the bright side, to see his side, and let yourself get wrapped up in its candy-coated, fluffy cotton bullshit--gone, ripped away with brutal, exacting force. All that was left was the stark realization, a single driving force shoving you forward: you and your daughter were going to get out.

That was four years ago.

Four years of agonizing pretending. Of forcing yourself to put back on the coat you'd worn before, the false version of yourself that loved him and accepted him and excused everything he ever did to you. It was hard. It was harder to pretend that you accepted this than to actually accept it, to indulge in his control. But every time your resolve weakened, it only took a glance at your child to remind you of why you couldn't just give in.

You had to get out, not for yourself, but for her. To give her a normal life. A life where she could be free, where she could have friends, where she could run outside and not be limited to the house or, if the weather was nice, the secure, high-fenced backyard that Kai had only built within the last year.

Four years of pretending. Four years of planning. And, most difficult of all, four years of waiting. Trust was not easily given by Chisaki Kai, even to the mother of his child.

So you waited.

You waited for Kai to move you two--no, three now--into a house, a real house; not in a populated suburb (another broken promise that you swallowed deep, deep down) but an offshoot of some protected compound in a remote area, where it could be secure and guarded. But what mattered is that its doors connected to the outside, not to some unknown underground bunker.  You could manage, if you were connected to the outside.

You waited for Kai to ease up on the restrictions that built up around you during your pregnancy, rules to keep you under a far more watchful eye, rules that made it harder to find a way out. Inches of trust, gradually earned, which made it possible for you to think concretely about escape.

You waited for your daughter to get old enough to run, old enough to survive without needing to be fed every few hours, old enough to know how to stay quiet when told. Watching her grow up only made you want to leave, more. She had a personality now. Stubborn but accepting when she knew she wouldn’t win; sweet in her own way, an unusual way, likely one that came from a lack of interaction with anyone but her parents and a handful of trusted Shie Hassaikai members.

It was one of those trusted members--you never have learned their name, a secret Kai (nor they) were willing to give--that would be your key to escape.

 They loved your daughter, too, in time. They were drawn in by her precociousness, her insistence on formalities and pleases and thank-yous. But it was her bubbliness and inherent interest in the world and people around her that made them decide to love her, too.Her big eyes and bubbling laugh when you two were allowed in the yard, sometimes under this member’s supervision. 

To your daughter’s delight, they didn’t simply watch you like the handful of others did; they joined in the fun. Just a few weeks ago, she’d convinced him to push her so high on the swing set that she’d gone all the way around--even your heart briefly froze until she’d emerged on the other side, cackling with delight, safe and sound.

They were loyal to Overhaul. Of that there was no doubt. Had they killed for him? Maimed? Tortured? You tried not to think about the things that were done in Overhaul’s name.

Yet they’d betrayed him, all for the sake of your daughter. Part of you feels bitter that they wouldn’t betray him for the sake of you--but then, what was that saying? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was with their help that you were finally able to secure that last necessary piece of the puzzle for your escape: getting out of the secured, monitored gate surrounding the house unnoticed. He told you in hushed, intense tones that he would be on watch duty the night of your escape, that he would take care of the other member assigned that night, and that all you had to do was get out the door at the agreed time with your bag, your daughter, and a good pair of walking shoes. He would drive you as far as he could, and then you two would run, run, run after that.

It was going to work. Your daughter was going to live her life, a real life, not one carefully constructed in captivity. What would you do first, once you were free? The thoughts sometimes made you so giddy that you pinched yourself to calm down. So close, so close to the finish line, and you must be vigilant.

Tonight. You and your daughter are going to leave tonight.

Your daughter is in her bed, tucked in safe and secure. Her eyes are already closed, and Kai is sitting at the edge of the mattress, as always, smoothing down her hair and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. You watch from the doorway with your arms casually crossed, a small, tired, end-of-the-night smile on your lips. It's all so normal, so domestic, isn't it.

"Good night," he says, so soft and sweet that, if you hadn't been pulled out of your deluded coping mechanism, you might find it endearing. Instead, your thoughts scream: This will be the last time you ever see her, you fucked up piece of shit bastard. Oh, do you have a potty mouth when your 'husband' can't hear you...

He leaves your daughter to her dreams and clicks off the little lamp on her nightstand. When he crosses the doorway, you make room and he lets you slide your arm around his, linking yourselves together for the walk to your shared bedroom.

"Tired?" He asks, and you nod. You are tired. Not for the reasons he thinks, and not for the reasons you'll give, but the telltale darkness under your eyes belies the stress of planning your escape from a years-long ordeal.

You sigh, as soft and sweet as his voice was earlier. "Mmhmm. She didn't want to focus on her lessons today. I got a bit frustrated. Sometimes I don't think I'm cut out to be a teacher." By now you're in your bedroom and you casually take off your day clothes, dropping them in the labeled hamper in front of the closet. Your stomach twinges with the memory of how he used to look away when you took off your clothes.

But that was long ago, and now he continues the conversation casually as the pair of you strip and change into your respective pajamas. You slip a pink nightie with ruffled bottom over your head as he

"You just need more practice. Are you reading the lesson books before you start class?"

I wouldn't have to read any lesson books if you let her out of this house, if you let her out of school, if you weren't--you stop your thoughts, afraid that they might show on your face. Afraid that you might lose everything at this last, crucial moment.

But you know you look frustrated, so you roll with it. "Yes," you say, voice just the right amount of annoyed in retort. "But if she doesn't want to sit down and focus, me reading the lesson beforehand isn't really going to help, is it?"

He stares at you, and you wonder in a flash if you went too far. But in the next moment, he's simply continuing to button up his shirt. "Is it going to help our daughter learn if you take out your bad day on your husband?" His voice is dripping with the natural condescension that once had you questioning whether or not it was okay to be upset that he'd kidnapped you, and you hate it. But at least it's a sign that he bought your excuses.

You feel a warm flush of shame at the way his condescension still makes you feel less-than. You slide yourself into bed, under the covers, instinctively grabbing the book on your end table and staring down into it like you could simply disappear inside the pages. You can't mess up anything right now. The weight of what you need to do tonight feels so heavy and you can't stop your hands from trembling slightly.

"Sorry," you whisper, voice thick with emotion. "It's just hard sometimes. I feel in over my head."

It's Kai's turn to slide under the covers, though he doesn't bother grabbing his own book. Instead he gently pushes on your hands until you set the book on the covers. You know he wants you to look at him, so you do. He looks so gentle, so calm. Did he kill anyone today? Did he insult some hapless victim who crossed his organization, spewing venom with his words, before kissing your daughter goodnight hours later?

His gloved hands tip your chin up and it's a familiar feeling, an intimate feeling, when he pulls you in for a kiss. When he pulls away, he's smiling softly, indulgently. You aren't in trouble. You're good.

"I'll come home for lessons tomorrow and see what I can do. Would you like that?"

I'd like you to drop dead and make this easier on us, you think.

"Yes, Kai."

You smile. You nod. You let out a shaky sigh and lean your shoulders against his, picking up your book and signaling an end to the crisis. He lets you read quietly for a while before turning off the lamp on his side of the bed; it's a wordless signal that you already know: time to sleep. You're a dutiful wife and you put your book away and turn off your lamp and then turn back to your husband and whisper,

"Good night, Kai."

**

You wait until he's deep asleep to ease your way out of the bed. Every step you take in your padded socks makes you cringe. Will the floor creak? Will you make too much noise? Will you have to come up with a half-assed excuse as he comes to, groggily asking what you're doing? You feel like you can't breathe, but you do breathe, soft and shallow as you make your way to the bedroom door.

 You didn't dare keep anything related to your escape in your shared bedroom. The door feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as you ever-so-slowly open it, keeping your head turned towards the man sleeping on the bed all the while. He doesn't stir. He simply continues to snore, even as the door opens enough for you to slip out.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you cross the hallway and into the spare room that you used as a playroom and, lately, a makeshift school. The bag you packed is in the closet, tucked behind bags of school supplies that you'd asked Kai to pick up in order to make sure that your escape bag didn't stand out. You grab it swiftly, along with your daughter's outdoor shoes, and make your way to the most dangerous element of your escape: your daughter's room.

She did so well. You remind yourself to praise her once you're away from the house, once you're in a car and making noise isn't a life or death dilemma. You built up the idea of your escape bit by bit over the past few weeks. You couldn't tell her that her father was a monster who kidnapped you, but you could prey on her desire to see more, to go beyond the rules established in her father's domain.

Don't you want to meet other kids? Go to the beach, feel the sand underneath your feet? Meet... your grandma? We'll just take a secret trip, you and me, and then come back to Papa when we're done. Then he'll see that it's safe to leave and come with us next time. But you have to keep it a secret. You can't tell him a thing, or we won't be able to go. You can keep a secret, can't you?

You kneel next to your daughter's bed and gently wake her up, whispering her name and stroking her hair, so she slowly opens her eyes in confusion before her gaze lands on your face and ah, a smile--it's just mom.

"Mama?" She asks, a bit too loudly for your liking.

"Shh baby," you say. "Yes, it's mama. Are you ready to go?" You see the tentativeness, the childish confusion in the way she nods. She doesn't know what real life is yet, she doesn't have an inkling of the freedom that she's lost, but she will.

You don't bother changing. You have a pair of clothes in the bag and you'll change when you're in a safer space. For now, you take her hand and lead her down the staircase, your chest tightening with every step. You can't help but glance back at the still-open doorway leading to your bedroom. You pray to whatever is listening that he won't wake up. Each step is a step closer to freedom. Each step is a terrifying risk that you or she might slip, might make noise, might wake him up.

Your spirits lift when you reach the bottom of the stairs. All you have to do is get out the door and he'll be waiting there with the key and a getaway car and freedom.

You clutch your daughter's hand, your own palm now sweaty; you nearly trip on a toy you forgot to pick up earlier, but thankfully the light in the entryway was turned on (you must have forgotten to turn it off) and you see it just in time to avoid disaster. You squeeze your daughter hand and turn the corner that leads to the entryway of your home--

Where Chisaki Kai is standing, waiting for you, his eyes practically illuminated by the glowing lamp light.

You drop the bag.

"No," you say. "No." Your mind suddenly feels fuzzy, like its buzzing, drowning out all of your thoughts with a pure denial of what you see in front of you.

"How--how did you--" you sputter, unable to continue voicing your question. It was all planned. It was all practiced. You pretended, you waited, you planned--for four years. How? How did he know?

He doesn't have to answer. You know the moment that your daughter's grip slips out of your hand and she runs up to her father, feet thumping on the floor. She clings to his side and doesn't look at you, and he runs a hand through her hair without taking his eyes away from your shaking form.

Of course she told him. Of course she told her papa that you wanted to leave. She loved him. Why wouldn't she? It was all she'd ever known. You were breaking the rules, breaking the structure that dominated her life since she could remember. 

"Please don't be mad at me, mama." Your daughter whimpers against Kai, and you can hear the tears in her little voice, and your heart aches for her in so many ways.

"I'm not," you whisper. "I'm not mad at you, baby." You're just sad, so sad. It hurts. All of it.

"Sweetheart," Kai says, voice surprisingly calm despite the events, "go back to bed while I help your mother unpack your things, all right?"

Your daughter nods and suddenly she's against you, hugging you in a tight, childish way; you only have enough energy to pull your arm around her, limp and heavy, patting her back without really feeling it before she scampers up the stairs.

You're left alone. With him.

He approaches you slowly and you feel like an animal. There's wildness hammering in your heart and the thought comes up, unwillingly: could you still run? Escape on your own? And hope that some day, your daughter escapes and finds you? But the thought of leaving her behind is impossible to indulge in for more than a second, and you know that without her, your life isn't worth living. The thought of abandoning her to Kai Chisaki brings up an immediate sense of revulsion and guilt and shame.

"What were you thinking?"

You aren't looking at him, but you don't have to be looking at him to know that he's glaring at you. Looking down on you with his gaze filled with righteous justifications. You glance and--yes, he is, but there's something darker, something you’d forgotten, underneath. Your stomach suddenly feels loaded with weights and your legs move backwards, pulling you away from him, away from the anger that feels like it's radiating off him in waves.

He suddenly grips your chin with brutal force and yanks your jaw forward, forcing you to look at him.

"I had to kill one of my most trusted men today because of your..." His eyes dart back and forth for a moment, before he spits out the apparently perfect description of your escape attempt. "Hysteria. An absolute waste of potential, all because of your ridiculousness."

Your mouth is dry. Your voice is hoarse. But you speak up, anyway. You've already lost everything.

"It's not ridiculous to want to get out of here." 

The weight of the years seems to press down on your shoulders, pounding into your bones, screaming in your ears. 

"It's not ridiculous to--to want to take my daughter away from the man who kidnapped me and forced me to pretend like I was happy here, like I was happy living in some--" you cough, needing moisture, but not daring to stop to swallow lest you lose your courage. "--glorified dollhouse while you tell me what to do and what to wear and how to act and when to fuck you and when to have a baby and fuck you, fuck you, just fuck you Kai. I hate you. Oh I fucking hate you."

You don't notice as your voice gets louder, emboldened by the adrenaline that's been crashing through you since you opened the bedroom door, until his hand is gripping your upper arm in a show of brute, vise-length strength.

"Lower. your. voice." 

His grip strengthens until you cry out, and then it gradually loosens without letting you go completely.

For the next few moments, you do nothing but stare at one another. Your mind feels hazy, darting from thought to thought. It was all for nothing. The last four years, all for nothing. But you think about your daughter, about what she may have been able to accomplish outside of these walls, and even the fantasy of a free life for her made it worth something--didn't it?

It's his voice that lowered, now, as he lets you go completely and straightens himself up. All business now. But what business will he engage in, this time?

"Perhaps you do need a vacation," he says, finally. Firmly. He's made a decision.

You wonder if he's lost his mind and you're about to ask as much before he continues.

"Did you know this house has a secret room? It's nice and quiet. The perfect place for you to recuperate until you've regained your senses."

The room, the room, the room.

Your hand instinctively claps against your mouth as you cry out.

After all, you don't want to wake your daughter up with your screams.

[destielfanfic]

My First Destiel Fic, vol.2

Thank you guys for sharing your memories! My First Destiel Fic is a nostalgic survey open to any destiel fan and has a simple goal - to celebrate fics that were our gateway into a wonderful world of destiel shipping. Thank you, fic writers, you are our heroes!

from @clio-philyra

Hello! For the first Destiel fic post 😊

The first Destiel fic I bookmarked the was the Forth Wall series by Entanglednow, which is lovely and funny. I first started watching the show in 2013 (end of season 7 on UK tv I think?). The first Destiel fics that made me really fall in love with them were probably All Things Shining by askance and standbyme (which is one of my favourite things I’ve ever read - fic or otherwise) and the Holy!Dean series by bunnymaccool.

This is a great idea btw! 😊

All fic titles link directly to the fic, when it’s possible, we have added another link to our review or submitted rec post. 

The Fourth Wall series by entangled_now [M, 40,000 word count, 15 works, posted 2009-10] (our review)

No summary by the author for all work. 15 separate stories in chronological order about Dean, Sam, and Cas discovering the wonders of destiel fan fiction. Ratings vary between T and M, with only one story rated NC-17 and even then it is only the discussion of sex in fanfic.

All Things Shining by askance & standbyme [NC-17, 142,000 word count, posted 2013] (our review)

Something in the world is waking up. It isn’t long before it’s brought to the attention of the Winchesters and Castiel: miracles are spreading across the country, the paranormal seems to be shrinking back on itself—and it all has something to do with the missing prayer book of a traveling preacher who died over a century ago. Dean is convinced it’s all the lead-up to another Apocalypse; Sam and Castiel aren’t so sure. Regardless, it sends them out on a less-than-typical road-trip, following the Mississippi and remnants of a very old story that seems increasingly to call to them. And along the way the trio learn much more about themselves—and the consequences and origins of love—than they’d ever have anticipated.

Holy!Dean Verse by bunnycaccool [NC-17, 120,300 word count, 5 works, posted 2012-15] (our review)

(from part 1)  Dean Winchester has grown used to God dicking around in his life the last couple years. But this crap? This takes the CAKE … or pie, rather. Now he’s been thrown a whole new curve-ball. The kind that has ended the Civil War in Heaven … but resulted in Raphael taking over, and hunting for Dean’s ass on a silver platter. Not to mention dealing with Balthazar acting like a self-righteous prick, Sam having some big damn epiphany on his big brother’s sexuality, and Cas eying him up like he’s the world’s juiciest cheeseburger. All that mixed with the chance to fix it all and set everything to rights … but only if Dean is willing to sacrifice himself. Again. Seriously, if he ever meets that bastard God he’s gonna- … oh hey, Chuck! What are you doing here?

from @foxymoley

The first fic I read was All Things Shining by askance and the first fic I did fanart for was A Little Inspiration by Nadiahart. I found the former when I googled free fiction for kindle (I was on maternity leave and bored!) and fell into a Destiel fic rabbit hole. I then did the art for the latter and accidently met the author via a Destiel discord server (a fellow Angel in Profound Bond 😍) and now she's one of my best friends! I squeed, she squeed, we all squeed.

My life full of these two dumbasses hasn't been the same since. ♥

A Little Inspiration by NadiaHart [T, 3,500 word count, posted 2017]

This was it, it was perfect. Exactly what he needed for his final project. Castiel ripped the page out of the campus life newspaper, tossed his paint brushes back into their cup and raced out of his studio. Checking his watch as he rounded the quad, if he hurried he’d be just in time to catch Dean. Sure enough Dean was exiting the gymnasium still in his baseball uniform as Castiel staggered to a halt in front of him. “Woah, Cas, what’s up man?” Dean asked as he helped Castiel back up from where he was hunched over gripping his knees and panting for air. “D...Dean, I-- I--it's perfect.” He gasped holding out the clipping towards Dean.

from @unforth

My first Destiel fic was Bring it On Home by thecouchcarrot. It was S8 and I'd finally "seen" Destiel (after watching since s4) so I went to a friend I knew shipped it and asked her what I should read first, and that was her recommendation. Once I saw what fanfic could be, and what joy an AU could bring? I've never looked back!!

Bring It On Home by thecouchcarrot [M, 41,000 word count, posted 2011] (our review)

Dean the Sales Rep just moved into the neighborhood, and his new neighbor is a possibly crazy shut-in. Wait - make that definitely crazy.

from @ltleflrt

My first Destiel fic was Real Slick Dean by Trilliath, and it was also the event horizon fic that dragged me into fandom in S8. It was written by a friend, but I put off reading it for a few months because I knew I'd never look back at my old fandoms, and I was right. It was also my first omegaverse, so it opened 2 new worlds for me. I was already in love with the ship before I read the fic because I started watching in s6, but I didn't know there was a Destiel fandom. I was a real newbie :)

Real Slick Dean by trilliath [NC-17, 28,500 word count, posted 2013] (submitted rec post)

There’s a new alpha enhancer drug “Rutter” on the streets that gets used at “exclusive parties” for the worst purposes. Detective Castiel Novak and his partner Balthazar work hard to put a stop to it and other sex crimes in their work as Special Victim’s top detectives. Ellen Harvelle’s Roadhouse is both a bar and a refuge for unmated Omegas. The Roadhouse gives Omegas the opportunity have their heats in peace and, if they so desire, even sell an ‘exclusive supply of high-grade slick for the unmated Alpha on the go!’.Castiel is just such an Alpha, career oriented and having no time for casual sex or potential mates. He’s a regular customer who only buys donor D347’s slick. He’s also a family friend and advocate who helps Omegas in need get connected with Ellen. It’s all fine until one night after a difficult bust he brings Ellen a new Omega about to have her first heat. What Alpha Castiel doesn’t realize is that he’s been over-dosed with Rutter during the fight and is about to go into a rut so bad he may die. And if that weren’t enough to kill him, the embarrassment he’s about to feel will, because he’s about to meet donor D347 face to face and neither of them are prepared for what’s going to happen.

If you enjoyed the fic, please drop by the archive (AO3) and let the author know with your comments and/or kudos! And if you found our recs useful, let us know by Liking and/or Reblogging our posts!

You can find all My First Destiel Fic posts under this tag!

[chemiste]

Voicemail. ~one-shot~

a/n: howdy babes, last night i was reading through @toothpastekissy​ masterlist, basically gobbling up everything and came upon Leaked Feelings! I loved the concept of it so I decided to write my own version :) lmk if y’all want a part two!

ALSO, i recorded myself singing both songs i wrote for harry,,,, if ya want to know the tunes i was thinking for them, comment if you want them and ill post em.

my masterlist

There they were.

The leaked files.

When you got a call at 4 am this morning, you did not expect your publicist to be telling you some of your exes songs were leaked.

“What’s that got to do with me?” You asked, still half asleep.

“They’re about you, Y/N.”  Well now you’re awake.

“What?” You shot up out of bed, padding over to your white desk, fuzzy pink socks on your feet. You opened your laptop and jumped onto twitter, scrolling through with one hand while the other held your phone. #StylesLeak was trending worldwide, as was #Y/N.

HarryUpdates tweeted:

OMG OMG RED ALERT WE GOT LEAK SONGS Y’ALL

FineFuckinLine tweeted:

OOF, what the fucccccck did harry do to Y/N? These are all apology songs!!! No wonder the break up was hush hush

E!News tweeted :

Hey everyone! We know Harry Styles and Y/N L/N stans are up early this morning! Leaked songs from Harry sales have been put out on the web for everyone to see. The two singers had called it quits 3 years ago, but now they’re the trending topic again! #shipname is now trending #1 worldwide, I didn’t ever think we’d see that one again! Go to our website for more!

You heard you publicist let out a big sigh, you put your phone on speaker and set it down on the desk next to you so you could keep looking.

“There are 7 songs, and each one has your name in it or as the title.”

It was a bit of shock, to say the least.

You had hung up with your publicist a while ago and were now debating on whether to listen to the songs or not, you had found a fan account that had the leaked files all ready to go for your entertainment, but something made you hesitate clicking the url.

“You Bastard!” You screamed, shoving him back into the wall. 

Mascara was streaming down your face, the satin red cocktail dress you wore now crumpled as your crouched to grab your suitcase from underneath the bed.

“Please listen, it’s not what you think—“ Harry started, you whipped around to the man before you, fire burning in your eyes.

“Oh, really Harry? How is me hearing you say ‘yeah Y/N is alright, but gotta keep the media happy ya know’ on a voicemail I probably wasn’t supposed to get not what I think?” 

Quickly, you zipped the bag closed, kicking your heels off and shoving your feet into your beat up converse. He let out an exasperated breath, tears starting to shine in his eyes.

“I—I was drunk Y/N! I was with some friends just joking around and—“ 

“Drunk words are sober thoughts Harry.” 

You snapped back, slipping your tench coat on and racing for the stairs, luggage in hand. You rubbed away the endless tears running down your face as you made it to the living room, collecting your keys.

H raced down after you, mumbling over words—

‘Excuses’, You thought.

Right before you opened the front door, he grabbed your hand that was wrapped around the handle of your suitcase. 

“Please Y/N, can’t we just sit down and talk this out—“ 

“There’s nothing to talk about Harry, you made that perfectly clear when I had to listen to you compare me some ‘other models’ while at a very important record dinner! I had to fucking sit there, eyes on me, and act like you weren’t ripping my heart out one word at a time!” 

You snatched your hand out of his and moved out the door, 

“Don’t call me,” was the last thing you said before slamming the door shut.

Bringing back those memories was something you didn’t want to do, it had been 3 years since the break up. Harry didn’t come after you, even though a part of you wished he had. Wished he had tried harder to get you back. But alas, shortly after, he started dating a model, Camile or something, and your relationship was tossed aside like yesterdays newspaper. 

You moved back and forth with your mouse on the link, eventually you closed the page. Instead of fully chickening out, you decided to go to your favorite platform for celebrity gossip, tumblr.

“At least one of his die-heart fans must have the lyrics written down already.” 

You mumbled to yourself, logging into your secret side blog about cats, Captain America, and cute outfits. 

After not that much digging you found a blog, harrysmygod, (you definitely rolled your eyes at the name) had a whole posting written out about it already.

“They’re sure on top of everything, I’ll give them that.”

You started to read.

Hello my harries! 

So if you’ve been up these past few hours, something big has happened! HARRY STYLES HAD SOME FUCKING SONGS LEAKED!!! And no, I don’t mean songs that could have been on the FineLine album, I mean OLD songs! 

And they’re about, you know my fav girl, Y/N! Now, we know their break up 3 years ago was very quick and hush-hush, not much details ya know? 

BUT WE GOT THE JUICE NOW LADIES!! 

The boy wrote 7 songs that got leaked, and you wonder why I know they’re about her? Y/N is a lyric or title word used in all of them! Thats right, all 7 songs. I’ve done the best thing for everyone and written out the lyrics for you to look through, I’ve only kept one chorus and each new verse, if you listen to the song and its repeated I only wrote it down one for you, blah blah you get it? 

Great! Heres the first one, it’s called Voicemail.

You took a deep breath and scrolled down.

The look on your face,

The hurt in your eyes,

Made me realize, my lover was gone,

I never got to say goodbye.

Oh, Oh, Ah, Oh.

The words I had said, not true,

I’m so sorry you heard them too.

When you came home in that dress,

Mascara dripping onto your chest.

I knew I had fucked up,

One voicemail turning us to dust.

If you ever hear this song,

Know that I was wrong,

You were the best thing in my life,

Now those flames have turned to ice.

Oh, Oh, Ah, Oh.

Y/N, please remember the love we once had together,

So I know I am real

And then maybe, we could try to heal.

Heaaaaaaaaaal.

Wow you guys, this SONG! Totally sucks that harry didn’t mean to release them cause totally invasion of privacy (sorry harry), but lucky for us we’ve got some info on what happened between Y/N and him! 

I’m thinking maybe a voicemail gone wrong? They could have been in a fight and he said something that cut too deep? Lmk what you guys think, heres the next on called Gone.

You scrolled through them, you read all the songs. Lover’s Funeral, Drunk Thoughts, Empty Seat, Your Sock Drawer, and then finally, Y/N.

Alright, we’ve made it to the last song my dudes. And personally it’s my favorite!!!! This was the last song leaked, but I feel the most important. Here’s Y/N.

Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,

You make my heart fly,

I feel as though I could touch the sky,

I only need your love to try.

My love, love, love

You shine brighter than any star above.

Make me count everyday,

I should have tried to make you stay.

Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N

I know we can agree

That I’m a bastard

Im a flake,

You made the right choice

Walking out on me

But could I have

A second chance,

I know it would be worth it

In the end

Because I’d get,

On one knee,

And promise myself to you

For all eternity.

Oh, Y/N Y/N Y/N

My love, love, love

Oh, Y/N Y/N Y/N

My love, love, love

You gasped, basically jumping away from the computer like it was on fire. Thoughts raced through your mind, you grabbed your head, trying to keep it all together. 

He wanted to marry you? Impossible. 3 Years ago this man was thinking about proposing, then how could he say all those horrible things about you?

“He’s not worth another heartbreak, stop it, stop it!” You chanted to yourself.

While you paced back and forth making a dint in your soft white carpet, you had tuned out the notifications for instagram, twitter, and calls coming through to you. 

But then a certain dial tone popped up that you had only set for one person.

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

You glanced to your phone on the table and froze.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Sent you a message.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Sent you a message.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Sent a voice file “Mrs. Styles.”

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Sent a voice file “I Should Have Fought.”

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Sent a voice file “I’m Sorry.”

<3

here’s part 2!!!!!!!!!

[kpopfanfictrash]

Do you have any fanfic resources you could recommend? I don’t really know the terminology and the last thing I wanna do is bug people but google is giving me some really random answers. And I don’t thinkle drabble is what its telling me...

Hello! I don’t know of any specific fanfic resources, unfortunately. The best advice I can give is to look at well-known fanfic authors, see what they do and then copy their format (format only! lol) until you learn. Unfortunately, I feel like most writers on this site simply learned by trial and error. Some tips to start you off!

Posting on Tumblr:

Add a read more. This is a courtesy to readers and people searching in the tags, so they don’t need to scroll for ten minutes past your giant-ass fic.

Tag your story appropriately (and ONLY with relevant tags!). I.e., if you are posting a Jungkook NSFW story, your tags might be: Jungkook fanfic, BTS fanfic, Jungkook smut, BTS smut, Jungkook one shot, BTS one shot, Jungkook, BTS... and so on. DO NOT tag as “Yoongi” unless Yoongi is a main character of the story. 

Above the read more, include the following: author (your URL), pairing (example: jungkook + reader), rating (NSFW or SFW), relevant warnings (explained further below), genre of writing (example: college!AU, enemies to lovers) and any author’s notes you want the reader to know before reading

Create a masterlist. This is a text post on your blog where you’ll give a brief description each story and link them. Place a link to this masterlist in the bio of your Tumblr page. This will allow readers to find your work more easily.

Create an FAQ. As you grow in followers, I can’t stress the importance of this enough, both to you as a writer and to your readers. Create a text post with frequent asks and answers to these questions! 

Terminology:

Drabble: a drabble is technically 100 words. Or, that’s what it used to be in the beginnings of fanfiction. Now, the term drabble has taken on a mind of it’s own and each writer seems to have their own definition of what it means. I’ve seen works with as high a word count as 5,000 tagging their work as drabble. (rip lol). Overall, a "drabble” means a shorter piece of writing.

One shot: a story posted all at once. All “chapters” are posted within the same text post. A one shot can vary in length (my longest one shot is over 40,000 words). An example would be my fic, The Art of War More.

Series: a story posted in multiple chapters at different times. An example would be my fic, Raise the Barre.

NSFW: Not Suitable For Work. ALWAYS mark a story NSFW if it contains themes which are 18+. Examples are: explicit sex, graphic depictions of violence, extremely sensitive or triggering topics. 

SFW: Suitable For Work. Does not contain the topics listed above. In terms of movie ratings, this would be G/PG/PG-13 rated.

Warnings: this varies depending on the author and can be listed as two different sections (sexual warnings and trigger warnings). Overall, these are intended to give the reader a heads-up on any potentially triggering topics. I.e., character death, self-harm, eating disorders, abuse of power, etc. Sexual warnings are a bit more loosely defined, but they are intended to let the reader know which sexual acts are performed (so they can decide whether or not the fic is to their taste). Examples might be: oral sex (male), withheld orgasm (male), dirty talk, thigh riding, etc.  

AU: Alternate Universe. This is basically any story or concept which is not reality. I.e., if you are writing fanfiction for BTS members, an AU is any story which takes place in a universe where BTS are not BTS. There are hundreds and thousands of AU’s. They can be anything from nurse!AU to college!AU to witch!AU to living Monopoly!AU (lol) 

Canon: the opposite of an AU. A piece of writing within the concepts of current reality. I.e., you are writing the BTS members as BTS members.

Idol-verse: Another (more common within BTS fanfiction) word for canon. This basically means you are writing a member as a k-pop Idol.  

Reader Insert: fanfiction where the main character’s name is either left blank (______), or written as Y/N. The reader is intended to fill in their own name as the main character. These stories are written in second person, using “you” instead of “she/her” or “I.” 

Y/N:  Your Name. Used in reader insert fanfiction instead of the main character. 

MxM: Member + Member (I’ve occasionally seen this referred to as Male + Male, but that’s not really accurate). Fanfiction written about two of the members as love interests, instead of an anonymous reader. 

I would also recommend joining writing networks and/or discord chats re: tumblr writing! There, you can make friends and meet other writers who can answer your questions in real time as they pop up. Best of luck, babe! Happy writing :)

[evolutionsvoid]

If one has read through my previous entries on Slimes, you should know by now that they are an incredibly adaptable and versatile species. Though they are just a heart and a pseudobody, their special signals and incredible slime allow them to create a variety of shapes and forms. From sticky Flayers who cover themselves in adhesive goo and bone shards, to volatile Fire Slimes that secrete flammable liquids and use gathered flint to light it all aflame! It is no surprise that this species has thrived and spread for so long! However, at times this versatility can lead to some issues. Like any other beast, Slimes are susceptible to parasites, disease and the ravages of time. Horrible things that can mess with their minds and hijack their signals. When a Slime is struck by one of these terrible fates, you either wish for a speedy recovery or a merciful death. Cruel as it sounds, things can become a real problem when these illnesses choose to linger. Be it parasite or virus, one can take over the form of a Slime and turn them into something even worse. I have written about Slime Dragons before, and how those abominations come to be. To quickly recap, Slime colonies tend to have buried networks of elder hearts that aid in reproduction and knowledge transfer. Slimes can physically connect to these networks to share nutrients, information or transfer their young. In most cases, these networks get along just fine, but age can start to wear on the oldest of hearts. As the decades pass by, an elder heart may start to degrade and fail. Most cases end with these dying organs being put of their misery and absorbed, but there are rare instances where the network is too late in realizing this weakness. In extreme cases, a fading heart may start to produce a "rotted signal," a droning message that is simple and infectious. Slimes use signals generated by their hearts to control their goo and communicate with others. They can share signals with one another without a problem, but rotted signals are not so kind. Due to their nature, these signals are capable of overwriting the signals of other Slimes and causing their hearts to pump out the same infectious message. All Slimes who come in contact with an infected heart or pseudobody will be hijacked and added to the collective. Slime Dragons are beasts that can result from a rotted signal taking over, but they are only one outcome for this dire situation. You see, a rotted signal is not just gibberish or useless noise, it often is a normal message that a Slime would use that has become corrupted. For Slime Dragons, the signal that births them is the same signal Slimes use when they are hungry or look to feed. It is a blaring message to consume that takes them over and creates this gluttonous monstrosity. So that means a different signal can lead to a different outcome, which is where the Slime's versatility takes a cruel turn. For each type of rotted signal, their is a corresponding abomination that is born from it, and each is specially equipped to bring a whole lot of misery and destruction. The diseased amalgamation I wish to write about today is known as the Mind Sink. While it is a network that has succumbed to an infection like a Slime Dragon, it is quite different from those slithering, hungering brutes. Their congealed and hardening slime will form skittering legs, and a bizarre frame. While its outside has grown dark and thickened by the corrupted fusion of so many Slimes, within this brittle cage will form a gooey writhing core. Here is where the infested hearts lie, and from there comes a multitude of flailing tendrils and snaring tentacles. I imagine it is a freaky sight to behold, and one I have thankfully never witnessed! The Mind Sink is one of these abominations I am most disturbed by, as it hungers for something more than flesh! The signal that becomes corrupted is the one Slimes will use to transfer knowledge to one another. It is a message that kind of says "can I copy your notes?" which the other Slime will agree to and they will share their information. When it grows foul, though, this message does not ask for permission. Rather, it becomes more of theft than a collaboration, as the infested Slimes mindlessly drain the information out of the victim. Slimes that are caught by these serpentine limbs will immediately be linked to the corrupted network and they will begin to draw out all their knowledge. In moments, the Slime will be emptied of all their information and thoughts, and will instead start to pump out the rotted signal. They will be pulled into the core and will join their infested brethren, ready to seek out the next victim. I know some may think that it is a rough process for the Slimes, and to that I must make a correction. It is a rough process for everyone, because the Mind Sink does not just prey on its own. 

It has been thought that the signals from a Slime's heart shares some similarities with the signals our brains create. While that is a whole field of study and wondering I am not well versed in, I can say that Mind Sink has given us a bit of confirmation on that. Mind Sinks not only hunger for the knowledge of their fellow Slimes, but they will target other creatures as well. Doesn't matter if it is man, beast or thinking plant, if it has a brain or a similar organ, it wants inside. Non-Slimes who are seized by a Mind Sink's arms will be entangled and immobilized in its grip. Coils of slime will pin their limbs in a cocoon, and slithering tendrils will seek out the source of the victim's thoughts. They somehow have a way of pinpointing the location of the brain and, once they do, they find the quickest way to access it. The point of entry is usually a facial orifice, be it nose, mouth, ears or eyes. They will burrow to the brain and the corrupted goop will make physical contact. From there, it will hijack the signals and quickly learn how to manipulate the organ, giving it access to their memories, knowledge and life experiences. With the mental feast now ready, the Mind Sink will say "I will have everything!" and start to drain. So far it has not been found if there is any order to what it consumes first, or if there is any logic behind it. Like a whirlpool, it just sucks in whatever it can. The mind will be siphoned away by this hungering mass, and the victim is quite powerless to do anything about it. When your brain is taken over by a gooey monstrosity, you aren't exactly in the right state of mind to fight back. Due to the difference between Slimes and species like us, the brain draining process takes much longer. Think of it like trying to transcribe an entire book in a language you don't understand. Yeah, you can do it by just copying the symbols, but it will take you longer. It appears that it takes a few minutes for a fleshy or plant-based victim to be fully emptied, and then they will simply be tossed aside. Those that fall to this awful fate will not have much of a mind left. Memories will be gone, any knowledge or skills they had will be wiped out and their own thoughts will be a scrambled mess due to the brutal takeover their brain experienced. Most become comatose, while some may flop around like a fish and babble nonsense. It is a truly horrible thing, and a cure or remedy has yet to be found.   Due to how much longer it takes to fully feed off a victim, one can be saved from the grasp of a Mind Sink before they are truly lost. If one can sever the tendril that holds the prisoner and cut them off from the network, the slime will collapse in a useless heap. The connection with their brain will end and so will the drain. It should be noted that freeing a victim from a hungering tendril is just the first step, because the Mind Sink has a dozen more and it will be eager to reclaim its prize. Best to grab them the second they are let go and run as fast as you can! Severing this link before the mind can be fully consumed is certainly a good thing, but damages will still occur. It depends on how long they were being fed on, as that decides how much was removed from the brain. Those that were held for only a few moments won't notice too much of a difference after they have rested and recovered, but some things will certainly be lost. Probably a handful of distant memories and mental tidbits were taken, but they won't notice their absence right away. Those fed upon for longer will have patchy memory loss, temporary issues with physical functions and scattered thoughts. It will be like someone took the book of their life and ripped out random pages. Thankfully, the book will mostly remain, so that means recovery is possible. Physical therapy will be required for any functions that were damaged by the hijacking, and the mind will need some help too. Not only will they need to relearn lost skills and forgotten memories, but their mind will need to recoup as well. Meditation, therapy and other calming activities are needed to help them stabilize their thoughts and reorganize their scattered mental archives. Recovery is not the fastest thing, but time and patience will help heal the wounds and fill the gaps torn in their heads. No doubt now that it has become obvious that Mind Sinks are incredibly dangerous and need to be exterminated whenever they rise. These are diseased amalgamations that will cause untold damage and tragedy as long as they are alive, and there does not seem to be any peaceful way to resolve their rampage. Like Slime Dragons, the way to bring down these monstrosities is to target the original heart that is creating the rotted signal. That is where the signal is originating from, and the other hearts are merely mimicking it. Kill the source and the others will soon fall silent, causing the fusion to fall apart. When it perishes, all the other Slimes are set free, but they won't be the same as they were before they were assimilated. All the knowledge they had was taken by the Mind Sink, and where all that information goes is quite random. As far as we know, all that it absorbs is held in a condensed mess of noise and thoughts that is shared by all the consumed hearts. Its mind eating abilities may make it seem like it can take memories and knowledge then use them against their foes, but that isn't the case. They do not weaponize what they take, they don't even seem to pay the stolen information any mind. Their own mind is like a garbage can, and anything they get their tendrils on is just chucked inside without a second thought. They don't want to use it or interpret it, they just want it. So with all this knowledge shoved into one mangled ball of mental energy, there is no telling what belongs to who or who belongs to what! When the Mind Sink is terminated, all that knowledge is fractured and dumped randomly into the freed hearts. The Slimes who emerge from the collapsed amalgamation will have a stew of memories and thoughts that are not their own. Some will be completely different from before, while some will be fumbling with the fractured mess they have been given. Not only will they be mixed up with their own selves, but there can also be a whole bunch of information that was stolen from non-Slimes that is now stuck in them! Some may be in bits and pieces, while some Slimes can have whole chunks of a person's life inside them! There is a tale that has gone around about a monster slayer going out to kill a rampaging Mind Sink. He failed to defeat the beast and was consumed by it, but eventually someone brought it down. What was brought back to his family was an empty shell, and they cared for him in this comatose state. The family prayed that one day he would get better, that somehow his mind and faculties would return. One morning, his wife heard someone walking around the house and his voice started to call for her. Believing that a miracle had been granted, she rushed to him only to find him still in his bed and still in a coma. What walked in to greet her in her husband's voice was a Slime, who had somehow wound up with a big chunk of his memories and personality. I personally don't think this story is true, because the ending to this tale has several different versions. Some say she took the Slime as a replacement for her husband, while others say she killed it in horror on the spot. I have heard some say that the Slime returned all the memories to the comatose husband and he was cured, but that one is certainly fake. It would be nice if that could happen, but Slimes are incapable of putting things into our heads like that. Our minds are like colorful sandpaintings, and the Mind Sink just reached in and yanked out handfuls of it. Can you just take those fistfuls and put them back so easily? I say that about returning memories and how that is impossible, but then I remember that there is an exception to that: the Slimes themselves. While they can come out all scrambled, it is possible for the Slimes to rearrange themselves back into facsimiles of their old selves. Slimes can already transfer stuff to one another, so they could puzzle out what parts belong to who and then sort them out. I have no clue how you can tell if a memory is yours or not, but then again, I don't have the ability to copy and share my brain (I wish I did, though! It would make teaching so much easier)! So Slimes can return what was lost between them, but they will still wind up with pieces of non-Slime information. What they do with this is unknown and up to who wields it, but some believe that Slimes have gained portions of their knowledge by recovering stolen thoughts from a Mind Sink. Supposedly an ancient Mind Sink fed upon human settlements and was finally slain, and the Slimes that emerged claimed all the knowledge and skills of its victims. Could it have happened? Maybe. Do I believe it? No, because I do not like the light it paints Slimes in. The theory is essentially saying they stole all their knowledge and wisdom from others, and proposes that they couldn't have come across this any other way. Seems more like it is derogatory towards Slimes than it is trying to learn more about them. Doesn't help that the people I have met who believe this theory have all kind of been jerks towards Slimes. After all this talk about Mind Sinks and their horrific abilities, I bet some think that I can offer tips on how to kill one. In truth, I got nothing. Take out the original rotted heart and the rest falls apart. How do you do that? Not really my department there. I am a researcher not a warrior, and I personally don't want to be anywhere near one of these things. As someone who has spent years learning and seeking knowledge, the concept of a brain-sucking monster is absolutely terrifying to me. All my experiences, all my work drained away in minutes, reducing me to a mindless vegetable! No thank you! I like my thoughts right where they are, and I got enough of a scatter brain already! The only way I want to share my knowledge is through my writings and teachings! Read my life's work, don't yank it out of my skull! Speaking of that, I better watch my tongue. Enough talk about a mind-wiping monster and Eucella might hire one and sic it on me. It would be way easier to chop up my writings and sell a book if I was brainless idiot! Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian - You know I read these, right? This is not helping your case in the slightest. And also you might want to drop the "if" and change the "was" on the brainless idiot part.     - Eucella - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slimes, Slimes, I love Slimes!      

[autumnslance]

5 Favorite Recent Writing Bits

Tagged by @kunstpause! Picking out a few passages I like from my most recent works, in no particular order. Under the cut, with links to the full work as hosted here on Tumblr (most of the posts also have links to Ao3 versions).

Tagging @phaedra-mero @anomaliewrites @eremiss @stars-bleed-hearts-shine @ahlis-xiv @raelly-writing @aethernoise​ @dragons-bones​ @punchelf​ @gunbun​ and anyone else feeling the need to go over some writing and think “I still kinda like this actually” (it happens more often than you may think).

1. Of Porxies and Pardons - Shadowbringers, 5.1-5.2-ish. After Eden 8 (Refulgence), Aeryn and Thancred had an argument. This one starts silly with Ryne & Gaia bullying Dadcred into buying a gift to give Aeryn, as an excuse to get reconciliation rolling.

He nodded. Then struggled not to fidget as silence briefly took over, the orchestrion quietly playing a semi-familiar melancholy tune. They tried to speak at the same time, words crashing against each other until they both stopped and blinked, the usual blush creeping over Aeryn’s face, while his own felt rather warmer than a moment ago. He gestured; she could go first.

She hesitated anyway, then quickly said, “You left that book you were reading, before...Um, before. It’s there.” Aeryn pointed to the small couch by the window, the aforementioned tome on the stand next to it. It was a collection of Voeburtite poems borrowed from the Cabinet of Curiosity he had meant to take along to the Empty to read while his more magically-inclined companions went about their tasks.

“Ah, of course; I was looking for that,” he answered, striding to the stand. On lifting the book, the marker he had left between its pages slipped out. Thancred managed to catch it, but his place was lost. He sat on the couch. “A moment while I find where I left off,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied, clearing her throat. He waited a moment, but she turned instead to her table and the organizing she had been doing when he arrived. She was definitely preparing to leave again for a time.

He took a breath but instead of speaking up turned to the book in his hands, slowly paging through to find where the verses became unfamiliar again, listening to Aeryn in the background. It didn’t take long before skimming became rereading, the words of long-dead poets filling his eyes and mind.

2. Only a Little Death for Now - Shadowbringers. Zenos fic that came outta nowhere, from a prompt I happened to see in Book Club and would not let me go. I see him as aroace, but his fascination with the one person who can match or surpass him crosses some wires. It’s short and violent, as one would expect. Also lemony for those into the murder prince. Used “she” for the sake of it but substitute in your own preferred pronouns; it’s all the same to Zenos.

His breath hitched and he nearly dropped his head onto the rail, thinking of her hair whipping as she spun, faster than his blades could strike. How he would push himself against her, testing her ferocity, the bloodlust to match his own. She would score him, again and again, each cut a command to yield, each bruise an edict to submit. The longer he refused, the fiercer her fire burned, until he was scorched by her Light, ripping away the shadows of his reclaimed birthright.

Another growling groan, the sting of sweat in his eyes as the heat of his bloodlust melted the ice and dusting of snow. It was nothing, nothing compared to the flame of their battles, drenching them both as they pushed beyond mortal limits, exerting wills to bend the Star itself in trying to make the other concede, to fall, to complete that final strike, the last stroke.

He threw his head back with a strangled cry, remembering the kiss of his own steel at his throat and oh what a fool he had been! How much sweeter, how much more worthy and final, would it be to have her wield the blade to end him, to give him that sweet release…

3. Girl Talk - Stormblood-era dialogue heavy piece of Lyse and Aeryn being pals and talking about relationships. Mostly Lyse needling Aeryn about certain rogues, and getting the dish on just what happened between Aeryn and Haurchefant...

“You are far from stupid.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make stupid mistakes.”

“Well, sure. Still, you couldn’t have messed up that badly.” At Aeryn’s cringe, Lyse raised a brow. “Come on.”

“I did sleep with him—once.”

“Really?” Lyse rolled onto her stomach, chin propped in both her hands.

Aeryn rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t...It was a stressful day.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Your idea of a stressful day is different from other peoples’.”

“Fair.” She grinned at Lyse. “I had to babysit Emmanellain de Fortemps.”

“All right, that does explain a lot.”

“He got himself kidnapped by the Vundu…”

“Of course he did.”

“I went ahead, while Honoroit ran back to get aid--so, Haurchefant and a couple Haillenarte knights--and that was the day we learned about Bismark, as Cid rescued us with his ever-exceptional piloting before we were eaten.”

“That is a stressful day, even by your standards.”

4. 15th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon - Shadowbringers, 5.3-5.4 spoilers. A very recent piece having to do with Aeryn’s nameday, but more importantly Thancred marking it each year he spent upon the First, and how. Letters, pining, confessions; all here.

Aeryn read through, noting he wrote it more like a conversation she had yet to answer. Memories of their adventures and companionship were woven through the words more naturally as he spoke to her. She smiled as he spent a good chunk of the letter not even realizing how he had gushed about Ryne and all she had learned and how she had grown in that first year they spent together, as if he were trying to ensure Aeryn would love the child as much as he so obviously did--even if the foolish man hadn’t been able to tell the girl so until it had almost been too late.

But then, that was Thancred; locking his thoughts and feelings behind stoicism, snark, and literally in a box on a shelf.

She traced her nail along the letters of his name--again signed “Yours”--before tucking that bundle away and picking up the fourth.

By this time the twins were somewhere in Norvrandt, though Thancred had no opportunity to see them as Eulmore’s hunters were ever close. He wrote to Aeryn of his frustration with how many Scions had come to the First but she was still so far away and still in so much danger, alongside the rest of the Source and this shard itself. If she couldn’t come to Norvrandt to break the Light’s hold over the realm then the girl would have to make her choice sooner rather than later--and perhaps face the same fate as all of her predecessors.

He admitted that he feared both of those outcomes. He seemed to have begun to cross out that line, but had stopped himself.

5. The Old Bargain - NOT FFXIV! An original, short, spooky tale written for a monthly artling challenge in @onyrica‘s Patreon Discord this past fall.

The wind moaned across the swampy meadows, long grasses and rushes hushing the rattling cart that slowly moved down the muddy road, pulled by a stooped figure in a wide grey hat and long grey coat. The clouds hung low and dark overhead.

To the left the forest rose from the brush, thorny and tangled even as autumn winds denuded the trees, gold and red leaves dulled and browning in the damp soil, floating on slow rivulets. Some eventually found their way to the distant river, others trapped in stagnant little pools until they dissolved into nothing.

Shadows moved and birds flit away from them. The insects had long gone silent, leaving just the wind and the rushes and the creaking of the cart wheels, the occasional groan of the wood when it turned to keep to the winding path.

The figure huffed, the air grown colder by the evidence of misty breath; faint, but noticeable. Even at this time of year, the temperature should not be dropping so, not while the sun still strained against the clouds.

The route was a dangerous one, but had to be completed. Tradition demanded it. The figure ignored the muffled whimpers from the bed of the small cart.

Where the marsh road met the woods, an old hill rose. Gnarled vines covered in dying leaves showed the stone arch of the ancient door, proof the hill, and those beyond it, had once been much more. The figure set down the long handles of the cart and puffed out another breath, stretching aching limbs. Too many times over too many years had the cart creaked to the door.

BONUS: 15th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon Outtakes - I wrote 3100 words of Thancred’s POV and him actually writing the letters each year before I was able to get to the actual proper starting point of Aeryn finally receiving them. It’s unedited, uncorrected, etc, but I shared it in a Throwaway Thursday post anyway, cuz man the effort I went to trying to get “15th Sun” out by the real world equivalent day in a little over a week’s time. I hope I can use some of these scenes at some point in something more finished.

Aeryn had discovered through Minfilia when Thancred marked his own “nameday”; it was the day Louisoix had given him the surname Waters to fit into his new life in Sharlayan. It was a reasonable enough date for legal purposes in the bureaucratically-minded city, and they had used a bit of conjury and basic observation to guess as accurately as they could at Thancred’s age at the time.

“So you see why I don’t concern myself with celebrating it,” he had said with an expansive shrug. It was during those moons after Lahabrea but before the Banquet, when they had truly become friends–more than he had thought himself reasonable to hope for, after everything.

Aeryn nodded, understanding. Then held out a small, neatly wrapped package. “Well it’s the only date we have, and this shouldn’t go to waste.”

It was difficult to argue with that, or her charming smile and the expected blush that followed when he teasingly told her so. That someone other than Minfilia did insist on noting the day, random as it was, stirred a tight warmth in his chest; he had been dismissive enough in their younger years that his fellow archons no longer made the attempt, and he wasn’t sure the twins even knew or thought of it; their junior members in the Scions certainly didn’t.

Aeryn’s first present to him had been an orchestrion roll from a favorite minstrel, a tune he had absently hummed or whistled as he went about his work after hearing it played while they were still in Vesper Bay. Of course Aeryn’s own bardic inclinations had remembered and she had found a copy. It had begun their habit of finding books and music for one another, for their namedays, holidays, or simply rare moments that felt right.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Sympathy for the Devil (John Wick x Reader) 1/4

Summary: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal.

Author’s notes: So this one was loosely inspired by this prompt and it was supposed to be an one-shot but it started to grow, became a small series and it might turn into an universe? Crazy? I know! But I’m in love with the idea of demon!John and how that would change the entire John Wick universe. But that’s a story for another day. For now, enjoy this first chapter. Feedback and suggestions are always welcomed!

Wordcount: 2874

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and inebriation; brief mention of blood

It was routine on Monday for your precinct to have squad meetings every morning. It was mostly a moment to update the team on open cases and for your Captain to distribute new assignments. It usually took a good part of the morning, so you didn’t have a chance to check your phone, but when you finally did, there were five missing calls from your best friend Claire, along with several messages asking you (in all caps) to call her immediately.

The sight of it set your senses on high alert as you looked for a quiet place to call her back. Claire was getting married in a week. If she was so desperate to talk to you there could only mean some kind of emergency.

“You haven’t RSVP for my wedding yet, right?” it was the first words out of Claire’s mouth as soon as the call connected.

“Are you serious? That’s why you were calling? I’m your maid of honor. Of course, I’m coming!” You rolled your eyes even if she couldn’t see you. “I’ll do it right now if it’s that important.”

“No! wait!” Claire shouted and you pull your phone away from your ear at the shrill tone of her voice. “You have to bring a date. Ryan’s coming.”

“What?” Your heart sped up and your breath caught in your throat. “Ryan, like my ex, Ryan? What the hell Claire!”

“It wasn’t me!” She hurried to say. “Apparently Dave ran into him and invited him since we have all these empty seats we already paid for. I’m so sorry.”

You dropped on the nearest chair, rubbing your temple. This could not be happening. You were not ready to face Ryan. You didn’t think you would ever be to be. Not after everything that happened between the two of you.

“How the hell am I gonna find a date in less than a week?” you said with a sigh.

Funny how you always believed to be so empowered but the thought of meeting your ex by yourself on a wedding made dread and panic clench your insides. You could almost picture the grimace in Claire’s face just through her silence. You two have been friends since kindergarten, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“What about that guy you’ve been seeing?” she asked, and it was your turn to wince. Teddy was pretty fun, but more of a fuck buddy than a man you’d want to bring to your best friend’s wedding.

“I’ll figure something out,” you said with another sigh before saying your goodbyes and pocketing your phone just as your partner Jake called you over. You two had a witness to interview.

Work helped to get your mind off the situation, but as soon as you walked in your apartment, dropping your keys, badge and gun on the side table, the entire debacle returned to your mind and you flopped on the couch, browsing your contacts because facing Ryan alone was one of your worst nightmares.

Once up a time, Ryan had been the love of your life, the center of your universe. He was a couple of years older, had a punk rock band, tattoos and felt so dangerous. It had been such a thrill. Your parents hated him and hated who you became when you were with him. Then one night you came by his place and he had just up and left without explanation, without a goodbye.

You remembered running all the way back home, the cold air of the night drying your tears and your heart felt like it would never be whole again. Maybe it never mended right, because even though you had several relationships in the last ten years, they never seemed to last or to feel quite right.

It was something you avoided thinking about it and were mostly successful since you’ve been putting your career as a detective for NYPD as your biggest priority. You shouldn’t let the ghost of a ruined relationship you had when you were a teenager affect you or ruin your fun at your best friend's wedding.

That was easier said than done though because as soon as you set foot on your hometown you were hit by this overwhelming sense of nostalgia that settled on your chest and seemed unwilling to be shaken off. Everywhere you looked, your mind was flooded with memories and you never felt closer to your seventeen old self.

The feeling was especially strong when you met Claire and your other best friend Lydia at the same store the three of you bought your prom dresses so you could do the final fitting for your dress. Since you and Lydia had pretty much the same body type, she had been standing in for you and this was the first time you would actually try on the dress that Claire picked for you: a burgundy halter neck dress with a side slit that went up to your mid-thigh.

“You look amazing!” Claire gushed as she met your eyes through the mirror. You grinned at your best friend because she was right. It was a beautiful dress and fit you perfectly.

You paid for the dress and the three of you left the store heading to the same diner you used to hang out after school back in the day. You hoped they still served that heavenly chocolate milkshake and fries because you were starving.

By some miracle, your usual booth at the diner, the one right by the glass window, was free and you, Claire and Lydia took your seats, ordering a round of milkshakes and fries as you caught up with each other. Sure, you three talked every other week, but nothing beat being with them in person. It was light and fun and familiar, and you were having so much fun you forgot any worries you had until you saw him.

Ryan stood on the other side of the street and he looked like he was waiting for someone as he talked on the phone. He had changed so much in the past ten years. Gone were the purple mohawk, piercings and ripped shirts. Ryan had gone back to his natural blonde hair; his blue eyes were free of makeup and there was no piercing visible. He was dressed in a simple blue button-down and tan slacks that fitted him quite nicely.

He looked even more handsome than you remembered and your stomach felt queasy and twisted into knots at the sight of him. Especially when a brunette woman that belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine stepped out of the shop and met him. Ryan kissed her cheek and they walked away; arms linked together.

“You didn’t tell me he was bringing a date,” you croaked, glancing back at Claire.

“I didn’t know,” she said with a sympathetic expression. “Are you ok? What do you need?”

“Alcohol,” you declared, dropping a few bills on the table as you stood up. “Lots and lots of alcohol.”

It was a good thing that Lydia and Claire knew about the entire dirty affair between you and Ryan because they didn’t even blink at your request. Instead, they guided you out of the diner and two streets over to the bar you all used to go as teens. It was old and kind of seedy, but the drinks were cheap, there was a karaoke machine and the bartender still remembered your orders, so he kept them coming all night.

You left the bar with your friends around two in the morning, finding your way home and stumbling up to your childhood room, without waking your parents by some kind of miracle.

Once again you were swayed by the nostalgia that sent you into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Sneaking home after too much booze? Could there be something more teenage to do?  

And maybe it was this nostalgia that gave you the brilliant idea of digging out the stupid journal from under the loosen floorboard under your bed. It was an old leather-bound book you found at an antique store. The yellowing pages and intricate design on the cover had caught your eye and you ended up buying it because back then you were obsessed with becoming a Wiccan witch.

Flipping through the familiar pages, you smiled at the “spells” which were mostly badly written rhymes or some verses you found online. A spell to get good grades; another to make your father less annoying;  one to make people fall in love with you; there was even one to summon a demon... You paused at those words, frowning at the page. You didn’t remember this one but it certainly your handwriting.

You got up in an impulse and gathered the ingredients the spell required: silver, ash, and bone. You took an old jewelry box that you found in your room, filled with a handful of your grandfather’s ashes, the black knight made of carved bone from your father’s chess set and the silver necklace your mom had given you for your sweet sixteen.

Once you had everything, you grabbed your journal of spells and the box and headed for the crossroads a couple of blocks from your parents’ house. The entire thing was crazy and the sane part of you kept telling you to go back home and sleep off your intoxication. Another part of you, which was louder, edged you forward.

You put the box in the middle of the crossroad and checked the spell again. There was one last ingredient that you hadn’t added: blood. You took out your hairpin, letting your long hair tumble free over your shoulders as you used the sharp edge to prickle our finger, flinching at the quick stab of pain. Crimson blood blossomed on your skin and you let it fall into the open box before you chanted the words on the journal three times as demanded.

Holding your breath you waited a few moments, but nothing happened except a slow drizzle starting to fall. The cold droplets made you laugh and sobered you up a little. What were you doing? This was ridiculous.

Rolling your eyes at yourself and sucking your wounder finger, you picked up the jewelry box from the dirt ground and turned on your heels to head home. You managed only a couple of steps when the wind picked up speed, making your hair wisp widely over your face, carrying around a deep throaty voice:

“Your Latin needs work.”

---

John was staring out of the window of his hotel room, sipping his bourbon when he felt the call. It had been a very long time since he had received a summoning. In these modern times, witches and warlocks were a rare breed and few of those who dabbled with magic had any actual power to execute a spell like this.

Apparently, someone in this tiny little town was powerful enough to do so and it was out of pure curiosity that John set his glass aside and followed the call. He found himself on a dirt crossroads, under a soft spring drizzle just as a young woman started to walk away from him.

He commented on her Latin to catch her attention, taking pleasure in the way she jumped startled before turning around the look at him, her doe eyes widening in surprise. She didn’t look particularly powerful or special, but there was something strangely enticing about her that sparked John’s curiosity.

“How...? Where...? Who...?” she stuttered too confused to really finish a sentence and John snorted.

“You summoned me here,” he replied with an arched eyebrow. “As for who, you may call me John.”

“A demon named John?” she snorted a laugh and John thought there was an edge of hysteria in her tone that he could only attribute to shock.

“Who were you expecting? Beelzebub?” he asked dryly. “So, what do you need?”

“What do I need?” she repeated a little dumbly and John shook his head with an exasperated sigh. This was starting to get annoying.

“Yes. Why did you summon me here?” he clarified.

“I... Well... I need a date.” she confessed, her cheeks turning a charming shade of red. “For a wedding.”

She quickly explained her situation and all John could do was stare in disbelief. This girl really summoned the powers of hell because she didn’t want to face her ex alone? It was preposterous.

“I didn’t think it would actually work!” she exclaimed, obviously noticing his disapproving expression. “How was I supposed to know I wrote down an actual summoning spell on my book of shadows when I was sixteen!?”

John shook his head, ready to go back to his hotel. This was pointless and he had a business deal to conclude in a few hours. Before he could do anything, he felt the wind changing directions and making him freeze as it brought along her scent.

 It was so sweet and desirable, almost intoxicatingly so and it made John want to bury his nose in her neck. It was the smell of virtue. This woman had one of the purest souls he ever encountered.

“I can give you what you want,” John offered in a low voice, turning up all of his charms and being rewarded by the way she shuddered. “For a price.”

“I’m not selling my soul,” she replied as she took a step back.

John fought to contain his grin at her refusal. It meant he would have to work this in the old way. Corrupt her little by little. It had been a long time since anyone put up a challenge to him. The prospect excited him.

“I don’t always deal in souls,” he said moving closer to her. “Sometimes all I require is a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion and John felt a strange sense of pride. She might be naïve enough to summon him, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You’re learning,” he commented, gently tracing up her arm just to see her breath hitching, her scent changing slightly, acquiring a certain spiciness due to her arousal. “I don’t know yet. Someday I might need something, and you’ll have to give it to me.”

John waited as she thought through his offer. He could tell part of her wasn’t sure if this was really happening or if she was hallucinating due to too much alcohol.

“I assure you, darling,” he said, taking her hand in his hand bringing to his lips for a soft kiss, letting his teeth scrape over her knuckles. “I am quite real.”

“Will anyone get hurt? If I do this favor?” she asked her voice shaky, her cheeks flushed.

“No one needs to get hurt,” he assured, holding her gaze.

“Ok,” she finally said with a gulp. “If you promise no one will get hurt with this favor of yours, I accept. Where do I sign?”

“That’s not how demons seal contracts, darling…” John smirked at her, hand moving to her cheek, cradling her face and tilting her face up with a gentle nudge of his thumb on her chin. He could tell the exact moment she realized what was about to happen because her eyes darkened and her lips parted almost in an invitation.

 John could hear her heart racing and the jumble of thoughts running through her head as he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. He was gentle because he didn’t want to scare her and it paid off because she sighed against his mouth, her hand coming to his chest and fisting his shirt as she pressed her mouth a little more firmly against his and John could feel her urge to have him.

His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she immediately parted them for him, letting John explore and chase the faint taste of liquor and the sweetness that seemed uniquely hers. It was almost addictive, especially the way she responded to him, her own tongue sliding against his, her body pressing closer. John could feel her arousal growing and igniting his own. It had been a long time since he felt this stirring with just a kiss.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady and her hands timidly moved up to his neck, her fingers combing through his hair softly, almost like she was petting him, and this time John was the one to sigh against her mouth.

He could stay like this for a long time. As long as she wanted.

It was that treacherous thought that broke the spell and John pulled away from her, putting some physical distance between himself and the girl.

John lingered for a moment watching the way she sighed happily, eyes still closed, her fingers gently touching her lips, still caught up in the aftereffects of him charm. He felt a strange urge to return to her, catch her mouth again, but before he could succumb to those impulses, he went back to his hotel, putting some distance between himself and this alluring human.

He was the one doing the tempting, not the other way around. John needed to remember that.

(tbc)

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[whorphydice]

The stars too they tell of spring returning- Orphydice Hadestown Fix it Fic no-one asked for

Well y’all I’m BACK With content no-one wanted. This time, 10 pages of angst filled fix it fic. Woo. 

And of course theres a baby. Why not.

Shoutout to @bakedbeans-orpheus and @hollywoodx4 who have heard my angst for DAYS about this fic and this verse. Ily guys. @hollywoodx4 deserves a ton of the credit for putting the image of the “finale with this verse” in my head. This is for you two who deal with me. 

Here goes nothing on the angst train

It’s a sad song

“Will it be okay.. Will it live, Hades?” Stone faced and teary eyed, she is unwavering as she asks. Looking him dead in the face, unblinking. “Persephone did she ever-”

“I don’t know, girl.” He shakes his head, eyes blinking from paperwork to her face and for yet another time in the months they knew each other doubt scattered across his features. “Noone has ever been born in Hadestown.”

Feelings. Emotions. Something she thought she would forget in Hadestown. Yet suddenly a wave of something like grief and fierce unyielding love washed through her. “Can I send her up with Persephone, at the end of winter, can she take her to Orpheus-”

“I don’t know, Eurydice. I don’t know.” Not knowing was a weakness, one he did not like to show. Yet this girl, she deserved the truth. And that truth was unknown. “Take care of yourself, stay off the line. We’ll go from there.” 

It’s a sad tale

Fall came and so did Persephone, who could tell things were wrong in the air. They were going to try, he was going to wait. And when he greeted her off the train with his usual kiss and a tight squeeze of her hands, she expected the worst.

“Hades what is it, what’s wrong.” 

“It’s the girl. You.. you need to see her.” He said briefly, linking his arm with hers and walking her through the town. He needed her to see his improved conditions. Changes he made for her. For them 

The workers had time off and reasonable shifts. Camaraderie on the lines. Other work, rather than just the line and the wall. Things were improving in Hadestown. 

 Improving for all but one. 

Hades stopped them infront of a small building, with a single flight up stairs up the front. “Go up. She’ll be excited to see you.

It’s a tragedy.

“Oh, honey.” Her stomach dropped the second she busted into the apartment, her bag all but dropping to her feet.

Eurydice was there, of course. Sitting in the bed, back to the wall. And like a song bird, she sang. The softest voice singing a melody of love- the very melody that brought the world back into tune. 

“Spring came for us down here too- Her name’s Ophelia.” Eurydice said, no need for prompting. “She looks like him, don’t you think?” In truth, no. Persephone could see nothing but Eurydice in the baby, from Dark hair to her nose. “She’s sleepin’ but she’s got the prettiest hazel eyes.” She cooed, not even looking at the goddess.  “And you’re gonna take her to him, if you can.”

“I- what? How old is she, darlin, I couldn’t take this little baby from her mama.” Persephone kneeled at the bedside, running a hand over Eurydice’s short hair. 

“She has to go, He’ll love her. He’ll love her more than anything. And she deserves better than this. She deserves springtimes and ice cream and her father.” She finally snapped her head up, eyes ringed with puffy red skin. Tears. How many had she shed over this little girl.  “She’s two weeks old. Ashame, really. I thought I could wait until you got down here to have her. She has her own agenda, it seemed.”

Ophelia was spring time. This happy, smiley little girl who the workers loved. Who brought Eurydice’s singing to town. She would tell persephone later, about how they banded together for her. How they took over her work for her, and helped her when she was too weak to move. 

“I didn’t think she’d make it, Seph. I felt her moving and kicking in there and I was sure.. I was so sure” Her voice broke in her throat as more tears pooled in her eyes. “Living things don’t survive in Hadestown. But here she is. An anomaly I guess.”

Anomaly. Just like her mother. And her father. 

“He’s going to love her.”

“And you don’t?” It wasn’t a question. It was just a fact. She could love her enough, Persephone believed that.

“I love her too much to keep her from him.”

It’s a sad song

“She can go, can’t she?”

“Ophelia? Yes. Most likely.” It was an unforeseen situation. But he owned everything in hadestown- and Ophelia he did not.  He sighed and looked away from her, unable to face the disappointment. “Eurydice, no. Not yet. I’m trying. I’m looking for a loophole. I can’t stomach it.”

She cut him off with a kiss, and a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He wasn’t a monster, he wanted to scream to the world. To Eurydice. To Orpheus, who saved his marriage and ended his own. 

She’s coming, poet. Give her time.

But we sing it, anyway.

The only sound at that train station were sobs. Hopeless, never ending sobs from a young woman on her knees, too weak to stand. 

“Tell her how much I love her.” She begged Persephone, as the only thing she had left to go on for was taken from her. “And him. Tell him I love him and I forgive him and that she is the most important thing to me.” It was barely coherent as it stumbled out of her mouth through gasping sobs. 

She was shaking the last time she kissed her daughter’s head, prying the baby’s fingers from around the strap of her overalls. “I love you more than spring, sunshine.” Eurydice swore, letting out another gasping sob as Ophelia reached for her, little lip quaking. She was an empathetic baby, much like her dad. She felt everything her mother did. “Give your daddy a kiss for me, yeah?” 

The train whistle blew impatiently as Persephone looked between Eurydice and the train, Ophelia becoming fussy in her arms. 

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?” The heartbreak ripped through everyone in the vicinity, and Persephone couldn’t help but doubt if this was the best thing for everyone involved. Eurydice, especially. 

“Please, take her. Take her.” Eurydice whimpered, wiping at her eyes. “Take her and tell her how much I will always love her.” It was harder than selling her soul and leaving Orpheus.  It was harder than anything she had ever done and would ever do again. 

Persephone offered the most sympathetic smile she could as she boarded the train, the baby in her arms whimpering loudly. “I know, honey, I know.”

Hermes locked eyes with her the second she boarded, and something caught in his throat as she locked eyes with him. “Yeah brother, it’s what you think.”

As she took the seat by the window, Ophelia banged her tiny fists against the glass. “Ma?” She asked softly, before breaking out into crocodile tears. “Ma.”

“I know darlin, your mama wants you too.”

The sight of Eurydice on her knees sobbing as the train pulled away, workers gathering to help her up, is one that will haunt Persephone forever.

The sound of screams as Eurydice said goodbye to her daughter, knowing she would never see her again, will stay with Persephone every day of her life. 

On a sunny day there was a railroad car and a lady stepping off a train

Noone was ready that day, when Persephone’s train rolled up. Dozens of people flocked to see her, to give thanks. But when the door opened, the world stood still. The crowd went silent. 

Silence, as Persephone approached the boy. The boy who hadn’t sang in months. Who’s permanent smile was replaced with something like indifference. 

“Lady Persephone, I didn’t know you had a-”

“Shh, Poet.” And in a moment, the world shifted again. The crowd remained silent, with eyes only on the poet and green clad woman in the center. Without finishing her though, she deposited the whimpering baby in his arms, pressing a hand to his face. 

“Her name is Ophelia, and her mama forgives you.” 

If he hadn’t held something so precious, he would have collapsed. He vaguely remembers his heart racing and the feeling like someone was holding him under water. 

“I...she..Eurydice?” He squeaked, arms shaking as he finally looked at the baby. Dark hair, chubby little cheeks, the sweetest little face. If Eurydice was the world in his arms, Ophelia was the universe. 

“Not yet, poet. He’s tryin’” She assured, pulling her hand from his face. “She’s a fighter, that one. She’ll come home to you.”

She couldn’t tell him, that Eurydice made her peace with never seeing her daughter again. 

Every body looked, and everybody saw that spring had come again

Orpheus sang for the first time that night. The six month old wrapped against his chest in one of Persephone’s summer scarves. He picked up a guitar and sang of love. Love for a girl far away, and love for a much smaller girl nestled safely in the crook of his arm. 

Orpheus loved easily, and Ophelia was easy to love. It took effort, to learn how to care for a baby so quickly. But with lessons from Persephone, he was doing his best. And that was what he owed Ophelia and Eurydice both. 

That first night, when he held her in his arms and paced infront of the window, a sky full of stars the only source of light. 

In his free hand was a picture, the only one he had, the only one of value. 

“Her name is Eurydice, and she loves you endlessly. And I promise, I’m not gonna fail you, i’m not gonna let you down, like I did her.”

With a love song

“She hasn’t spoken in months.” Hades told her, the second she came home that winter. “I don’t know if she has a voice anymore.”

Her singing was missed in the mines. Her joy that Ophelia brought the workers. The hope she inspired. Without Ophelia Eurydice gave up.

Eurydice had no reason to hold on to herself anymore, as far as she was concerned. 

“How is the boy? And Ophelia?” He inquired, linking arms with her yet again, as he had done a year prior. 

What he wasn’t expecting were the sounds of sobs, held back in her throat.

“He’s trying so hard, Hades. But she wasn’t ready to leave Eurydice. He’s trying so hard but winter’s coming- they aren’t going to survive a winter like this.” It was horribly poetic. Eurydice sending her daughter for a better life, only to be reunited a year later in death. 

“DO we tell her?” 

“There’s nothing she can do.”

With a love song

Hades was enraged, to say the least. 

Somewhere between a desk destroyed and papers tossed into a furnace, he found himself on the ground, palms in his eyes.

Orpheus saved the world. Brought his love back to him. And he couldn’t even do the same for him. 

It had been months since Persephone returned. Over half a year since Eurydice gave up her daughter, hope, and the will to fight. 

Days since Hermes sent the message. Orpheus was dying. He’d need a ticket. 

Somewhere between papers in the furnace and getting off of the ground, he had her called in. 

He called the girl to his destroyed office, where flames ate the papers she signed many months ago.

“You’re free to leave.”

She didn’t speak, simply looked up. And for the first time since ophelia was taken topside, he saw something in the girl spark. 

“The contract..it’s burned. Gone. Invalidated, actually. Ophelia wasn’t on the contract. She’s an extenuating circumstance. You’re free to go, if you want.” He paused. “But you need to know something.”

She knew it was too good to be true, and the way she shook in her spot revealed that. “Know what?” Her throat screamed, it was like razors sliding over the delicate folds controlling her voice. 

“The boy. He isn’t doing well. Neither is Ophelia, i’m afraid. You can go be with them, be a source of comfort if you wish. Or you can wait here, for them to arrive on the train.”

Eurydice can’t remember feeling pain when her knees met the marble, and the blood drained from her skin. “They’re dying?” She croaked out, hand grasping over her heart. 

“They’re...unwell. The weather is cruel to them. And Ophelia is just so young.. The odds are not favoring them.” There was no use in lying to her. Not now. 

“But they could make it?” She asked quietly, hope in her heart for the last time.

“They could. Should I send for a train?” It was a peace offering. A train and freedom, to get home. 

Eurydice nodded, scrambling to her feet frantically. “Mr. Hades.. Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.” She was practically out the door when he spoke again. 

“Get to the station. And Eurydice?” She turned to face the man speaking. “Since your contact was invalid, here is back pay for all the months you worked on my line. You’re going to need it.”

With a love song

The train ride was longer than she remembered. Alone on a train out of hell gives one a lot of time to wallow. 

She thought of Orpheus, with his million watt smile and gift for words.

She thought of Ophelia, who wouldn’t know who she was.

She thought of how she would lose them both, but was acting as the comfort Orpheus deserved.

She thought of him. 

With a tale of love from long ago

The train station was empty, as one would expect for winter. 

Empty except for a man in a silver suit, with a blanket over his arm and a solemn smile on his face. 

“Girl, come on lets get out of the cold.”

He half carried her home. Months of abuse of her own body- not caring for it, not eating, not sleeping- made standing hard and walking near impossible. She leaned heavily on him for support, the winter storm around them making things somehow worse.

She decided now, to voice her fear. “How bad is it, Hermes?”

When he remained steadfast and silent, she knew better than to press on. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

He brought her home. To the house she didn’t expect Orpheus to have. He unlocked the door for her, kissing her temple before stepping away. 

“He waited for you. For this moment.”

It’s a sad song.

She limped through the house, a draft from somewhere chilling to her bones. She caught a glimpse of her reflection- she looked more like bones and paper skin than herself nowadays. Eurydice wondered to herself, what Orpheus would think, when she heard the wheezy breathing in the back room.

With apprehension, she approached the door, swallowing to lubricate her brittle throat before trying. “Orpheus?” She called out, before she limped into the room and locked eyes with him.

But we keep singing even so.

“Eurydice?” The frame under the blankets whispered out, before the sound of crying filled the room. “Eurydice...god no...I’m so sorry Eurydice.” Orpheus was lanky before. But now? Now he was broken. Thin face, lost shine in his eyes. If she hadn’t known to look for it, she never would have seen the impossibly little bundle of blankets on his chest, far too small to house the fifteen month old baby she imagined in her dreams. 

“Orpheus, it’s me… why...why are you sorry?” Eurydice climbed into the bed, taking his face in her hands frantically. 

“You’re here. That means I’m dead doesn’t it? I failed you again. I took her to protect her, you wanted me to protect her, and I failed. I failed and i’m dead and she must be dead and-”

She grabbed his hand, and placed his palm against the center of his chest. “Orpheus, honey, i’m here. I’m alive and i’m here. He let me go- it’s not important right now. What matters is i’m right here, and you’re alive.” 

Unable to wait anymore she leaned down to kiss him, the contact of his lips igniting a fire in her that had long since gone out. “I’m here, and you aren’t leaving me. I just got back, you don’t get to go yet.” Eurydice pulled his upper body into her lap, and stroked his hair, draping Hermes’ blanket over him. “We’re going to be okay.”

It’s an old song

He cried into her thigh, words of love and endless apology. Of hopeful future and the life they would share. Before long she was beside him, head on his chest listening to the steady, albeit weak heart beat.

Alive. Alive. Alive. 

They could have forever, now, so long as they made it through this winter. She was sure of it. 

Her sweet, sweet husband. And their daughter. Ophelia. 

“I know she won’t remember but Orpheus can I-” He was too far sleeping, his arms wound around her so she couldn’t disappear. 

She decided for herself, to take the little blanket wrapped bundle from his chest.

And we’re gonna sing it again and again

It was like her heart restarted in that moment, when this tiny, whimpering little girl looked at her. The whimpering, she knew, was a sign of obvious pain in her daughter, and she knew then that she’d go to hadestown and back to end her pain for her.

For a moment it felt like forever and yet no time at all had passed since she held her. She wasn’t terribly bigger, which was concerning enough. 

It was like the world fell back into tune for Eurydice alone, when she got to look at this baby she would fight the world for. “Hey sunshine, I know you don’t know who I am, but i love you more than springtime.” She cooed, holding her against her chest. Ophelia’s fingers curled around the strap of her shirt, like they had so many times when she was a new infant still. Muscle memory, she supposed. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything in there to feed you this time. I’m sorry i’m not-” Hours topside and she already felt this rush of failure. Her baby, asking for something she couldn't give anymore. 

It was a moment she’ll never forget of course, when Ophelia relaxed with her head against her heart. When her baby stopped her whimpering because she had her mother. 

When her daughter, with what little strength she had, smiled at her and just breathes out “mama” into her skin. 

Of course, Orpheus would never let her forget.

It’s a long journey out of hadestown and it’s a long journey out of the dark. Eurydice knew though, in those moments, that they could make any journey together. The three of them. 

[savannahsdrabbles]

Communications (Encounters-verse)

rating: G summary:  After her run in with Splinter and the turtles, April ands up essentially becoming their penpal. Everything is going fine until the messages suddenly stop.

notes: Oops I wrote more. 2.3k words. Ao3 link here.

April found the first note jammed under her bedroom window, the edges fluttering in the breeze and almost unnoticeable. She still wondered how Splinter had made it to the fourth floor – and how he knew which bedroom was hers – but she was slowly learning to not question her new acquaintances.

           “Thank you again for the pizza last night. Michelangelo is doing well and sends his greetings. We appreciate your discretion. -S”

           April tucked the note between the worn pages of ‘The Tale of Despereaux’ and hid the book on her shelf. The last line made her feel slightly uneasy. Instinct told her to immediately reveal what had happened in the alley to her mother, but something simultaneously held her back. She could already guess her mother’s reaction – questioning her daughter’s sanity and then making a big deal out of not letting her go outside alone. On the flip side, say her mother believed her immediately. The image of flashing lights outside and soldiers showing up to haul her new friends off to laboratories made April shudder. No, for the time being, she would keep this to herself.

           She ended up leaving a paper bag full of bologna sandwiches and apple slices on the fire escape. It wasn’t as great as pizza, but Mikey’s growling stomach the night before told her that food of any variety would be a blessing for them.

           “I won’t tell anyone – and I’m glad Mikey’s doing ok. I wish I could help more. – April O’Neil”

           The note and paper bag sat out on the fire escape all day, making April wonder if perhaps Splinter’s message had been his way of ending communication. However, when she passed the window during a nighttime bathroom run, she was pleased to see that both were gone. A second note now sat in its place – a paper tube tied together with a yellow piece of fabric.

           April retrieved the bundle silently and then hurried to the bathroom where she could turn on the light without disturbing her snoring mother. Once situated on the bathroom tile, the girl pulled off the fabric and smiled. Her bandana looked almost brighter than before and smelled strongly of soap.

           “I wanted to return your scarf today – I washed it this morning, so hopefully it is ok to use again. My sons also wanted me to give you these. – S”

           Several smaller pieces of paper were rolled up within the note. April looked back towards the door, listening to make sure that her mom was still asleep, and then carefully spread the papers on the floor in front of her.

           Three crudely drawn crayon drawings looked back at her. The first consisted entirely of scribbles – childlike interpretations of flowers and smiley faces, and a round circle at the bottom of the page that had been labeled ‘cat’ in shaky letters. The names “Michelangelo” and “Raphael” were written neatly in the corner in an adult’s handwriting – clearly Splinter’s. The second drawing was similar to the first, though the page looked much busier as if more hands had been involved. A small tear in the paper told her of someone pushing too hard with the crayon and accidentally ripping the page, and based on the name scrawled underneath the hole it seemed to be “Leo’s”. The final drawing was more concise than the rest – four short green sick figures bearing matching smiles and a slightly bigger grey one with a pink line that April imagined was a tail. An orange arrow pointed to one of the green figures, labeling it as “Me”, and April grinned. That had to be Mikey.

           She turned the paper over in her hand and examined the back. Mikey had drawn almost the same drawing on the first page – probably tracing the original image through the paper – but it was a bit different. This Mikey had a red scribble on his foot casually labeled ‘blud’, and the character was holding hands with a new character. This one was about the same height as the Mikey character, but was drawn with a tan crayon and featured a black shape above her head (April couldn’t help but laugh when she saw the scribbled out word ‘fur’ floating next to the cloud, and a slightly smaller marker beneath it labeling the cloud as hair). Mikey’s name was written at the bottom of the page in wobbly handwriting, as if he had been using a lot of concentration to write it neatly.

           April’s cheeks almost hurt from grinning as she carefully folded the papers back up added them between the pages of her book.

           A third note was left taped to the fire escape, thanking Splinter for returning the scarf and promising a drawing in response if he came back the next day.

           The next few weeks consisted of more of the same – April sneaking food out of her school lunchbox and leaving it on the fire escape with a note or drawing. Splinter didn’t come every evening, but that only served to make each morning a surprise. Her mom seemed shocked at the change – April had always been a night owl, but these days it seemed like she could never wait to dive into bed. April brushed this off as just being tired from school, to which her mother responded by packing extra food in her lunches every day.

“Brain food,” the woman reasoned as she tossed in a second pack of crackers and added a few more grapes to the Ziploc baggie. “Plus you’re probably coming up on a growth spurt – I started puberty at about your age, so you’ll need extra nutrients for when you start your –”

“Sounds great!” April had interrupted, eyes wide with horror as she grabbed the lunch box and darted back towards her room. “Thanks for the advice – gotta grab my backpack – I can’t be late for school!”

           “I wish I could see you guys again– school is boring and my mom’s being a bit weird. On the plus side, I can probably leave more food out now. – April”

           “The boys have been asking to see you, too. It would be too dangerous for us to be seen on the surface, however. I have kept the boys at home since our meeting. Also please don’t worry about the food if it is inconveniencing you. We appreciate it, but I would hate to upset your mother. – S”

           “No, that’s not an issue. Like I’ve said before, I wish I could do more to help. And what do you mean by surface? I’ve been wanting to know more about how/where you guys live. I know you said before that you’re safe, but what does that mean? – April”

           The messages stopped for a few days after this. Her last note had disappeared from the fire escape as expected, but nothing was left in its place. After the third evening with no response, April began to worry that she had said something wrong.  

           “I’m sorry – should I not have asked about the surface? I know you guys have to stay hidden. I’m sorry if I pried. – April”

           “It’s been four days since I heard from you now. I hope you’re not mad at me. If you are, I’m really sorry.  - A”

           “I left a few bananas on the fire escape, but they look like they went bad from sitting out there. I’ll try to leave more out tomorrow. – April”

           “Did something happen to you guys? I can’t stop imagining the worst now. – April”

           “Just please let me know you’re ok. – A”

           “I miss hearing from you.”

           “Please be ok.”

           Two weeks ended up passing with no response, and April hated every moment of them. Her notes were steadily accumulating on the fire escape, untouched and unread. After the third one she started to tuck them all into an envelope and stuck the envelope itself to the window. School and girl scout meetings seemed to drag on. Her usual fascination with science and learning diminished measurably, landing her in after school tutorials to combat her falling grades.  At home her mom fussed over her diminished appetite and sudden lack of energy, questioning if her daughter was sick or if something had happened. April just shook her head and mumbled that it was ‘probably puberty or whatever’.

           Realistically, her mind was constantly bouncing between two theories.

           One fear was that Splinter had realized that it was dangerous communicating with a human. Maybe when April had asked about the surface, he started to fear that she would spread the information and endanger his small family. The idea that he and the turtles distrusted her so much made April’s heart clench.

           The other fear was even greater – what if someone had seen him leaving the messages for her? April had awoken screaming one night after a nightmare where the turtles had been ripped from their father’s arms, wailing as they were thrown into cages and then hauled away to be experimented on. Mikey’s terrified face kept coming back into her mind. He’d been so afraid of her, a child barely older than himself and coming to his aid. She didn’t want to imagine him being approached by grown adults wielding scalpels and–

As much as she hated it, April desperately wished that the first option was the truth.

           Her answer finally came at the end of the second week.

           A small knock on her bedroom window roused April from a restless sleep. She reached over to her nightstand and patted around for her glasses, then sat up and flipped the switch on her lamp. The sight that she saw almost made her collapse with relief.

           There was Splinter on the fire escape, one hand sheepishly waving in greeting and the other clutching her envelope.

           April nearly tripped over her own feet as she threw herself out of the bed and dashed across the room. Reaching the window, she shoved the glass open and then threw her arms around the rat. “Oh my gosh – Splinter – I’m so sorry – I don’t know what I did but I thought –”

           “I am sorry, too,” the rat gave her a fatherly embrace in return, allowing the girl to squeeze his shoulders, and then gently pulled away. Even in the darkness, April could see bags beneath the rat’s eyes. “I did not mean to frighten you, or to stop corresponding. The past two weeks have just been… a lot.”

           “Is everyone ok?”

           Splinter nodded tiredly. “They are now. Michelangelo’s foot had been healing quite well, but it developed an infection that ended up getting him quite sick. He’s alright now, of course, but it was hard to handle without access to medical supplies.” The rat shook his head in frustration. “How I wish I could have just taken him to a hospital – we caught it early on, and I’m sure that it would not have gotten as bad as it did had he been able to receive antibiotics.”

           April didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent as he continued. “As if that weren’t enough, Donatello and Leonardo both came down with what I can only assume was the flu. Raphael and I ended up having our hands full, and time just slipped away from me.” he sighed, ears drooping slightly as he waved the hand with the envelope. “Again, I am sorry that I frightened you with our silence. I was going to just leave a note tonight explaining the circumstances, but after reading your messages, I realized it would seem cruel to not speak in person.”

           “I’m just glad you’re all ok,” April sighed heavily, her mind fully relaxing for the first time in two weeks. “I was afraid I’d said something wrong or asked too much.”

           The rat nodded softly. “I appreciate your concern – it was wrong of me to put the pressure of secrecy on someone so young, but your generosity and kindness have come to mean a lot to us, Ms. O’Neil. The boys talk about you constantly, and have been asking when they could next see you. Which brings me to my decision,”

           April watched as his expression morphed into a more serious one. For all the respect and care she’d grown to have for Splinter, his tougher expression reminded her of the way he’d looked at her the first time they’d met – she was a potential threat to his family, and he would do what he needed to protect those he loved.

           “There is a lot that I have not explained about my boys’ and my existence – some of this information I have not shared with them, either. However, you have proven your trustworthiness and integrity, and I would like to extend an offer to you. I cannot thank you enough for how you have helped our family, but I would like to show you how much you mean to us. If you are willing, I would like for you to visit our home. You do not have to come, nor do you have to return if you do not want to. But my family would love the opportunity to personally honor you as our hogosha – our guardian spirit. I hope you understand that this would have to remain private-”

           “I would love to!” April blurted out, then immediately blushed at her eagerness. “I mean – I would love to get to hang out with Mikey and the others. And you, too.”

           Small crinkle lines appeared under Splinter’s tired eyes as he smiled. “Very well. In that case, I would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening. I will personally come and get you, and can escort you to our home. Once we are finished, I can return you here before anyone will notice your absence.”

           “Ok!” April bounced on the balls of her feet and grinned. “I can’t wait!”

           “Oh, and until then,” Splinter pulled a small pencil from the folds of his robe and scribbled something on the back of the envelope. “Donatello recently helped me to install a phone in our lair. I figured that this might me an easier method of communication than our notes.”

[mymothershumility]

anonymous asked: hey there! i came across your G.O.T verse drabbles last night and they are all so amazing! i just finished reading your last one. do you plan on writing any others? also do you put hints or clues in your writing or do you keep thing more secretive? i hope this doesn't come across as weird! i love how you RP laira :)

transmissions || { always accepting }

Hello, dear! Thank you so much for the message! I always enjoy reading others thoughts or messages. Feel free, at any time, to send your thoughts, questions, requests [ headcanons, metas, drabbles ], etc. I love getting them when I do.

Thank you so much for the kind words! I’m glad that you enjoyed reading them. I’m assuming the drabbles that you mentioned are the ones that go along with my [ v; fire cannot kill a dragon ] group verse. If not, please let me know which particular verse you’re referring to. I have several group verses for AS.OIAF / G.O.T.

As for the verse that I’ve mentioned, I do plan to continue on with the drabbles for it. I’m still working on Part 11 currently. I’m uncertain how many total parts I’ll do, but there will likely be several more still to come.

I have done some foreshadowing / hidden some Ea.ster eggs throughout the drabbles. Some of my favorites [ so far ] are below the cut.

Part 1

Should anything happen to her before Daenerys’ return, the Seven Kingdoms will be without a queen and without an heir to ascend to the throne. And, without a queen or an heir, open war is likely to erupt between the already fragile peace that exists between the kingdoms.

Part 2

Something might happen if he leaves her side. It’s what she hears whispered in her mind. She hears all the gruesome and terrifying things that may happen should he depart from her side.

“When have I ever doubted your word?” Hal asks her. The words are murmured to her, chin braced against her shoulder. His hand abandons its place in her hair, dropping so that his arm can join his other and link protectively across her middle. ‘Never,’ Laira thinks to tell him. Such a thought startles her in a way. Her husband has always held her word in high regard.”

“I will keep you safe,” he promises her. “Both of you. Nothing is going to harm you. Not while I am here with you.”

Part 3

She grows leery of the maids that frequent her apartments within the Holdfast… grows leery of the food they bring her to sate her hunger through the day. It is unlike her to be fearful of such things. She has never allowed such thoughts to plague her before… not even when in exile across the sea where the Harpies played their malicious shadow games.

“I do not want you to leave,” Laira admits suddenly. There is no discussion of her reaction in the Small Council chamber, no discussion of her fleeing and hiding within their apartments. There is no discussion of her uncharacteristic reactions to matters. It doesn’t seem to matter to her… or to him. What matters most is that he hears her now. What matters most is that he listens to her. “Please do not leave,” she begs him.

Part 4

The remainder of the afternoon is uneventful. Laira sips at her tea –lemon and mint– as afternoon fades to evening. Nymeria departs from her earlier than in previous evenings. Laira does not complain, fatigue beginning to weigh heavily upon her. When she retires for the evening, she drinks the last of the tea from her cup before slipping into bed. There is little more than a quarter of the original pot left that had been brought to her and, she finds, she has no desire to finish it.

‘There are no innocent dragons,’ the voice growls.

Part 5

Her voice falls short. Blood gathers in the back of her throat and as she chokes on it, she sees nothing except for a lone crow perched upon a branch of Winterfell’s weirwood heart tree, its three red eyes blinking back at her.

Out among the trees within the garden, Laira hears the call of a crow. All at once, her head feels as though it is going to split open. She fears she may turn herself ill the pain is so much. Viserion turns her head with an angry sounding growl, spitting flame into a nearby pear tree. The tree catches flame with ease. There is a final panicked crow’s call before everything goes quiet.

“This city is a sickness,” Viserion growls, her melodic voice clear. She returns her head to the balcony, molten eyes pools of gold in the bright moonlight overhead. “We should leave,” she tells her little golden dragoness. “I will keep us safe,” she vows. “I will take us somewhere out enemies will be unable to reach us.”

Part 6

‘A foul beast has been tormenting you,’ the soft voice whispers. ‘He continues even now. He has turned his attention to your husband now that you are beyond reach.’ Had she still been trapped within the walls of the Red Keep, such whispers would have seen her dissolving into tears. There is something different about them here. The voice is different… the very tone so entirely different from the one she has come to know over the last weeks. ‘Call him here,’ the voice urges. ‘He will be safe here. This is where he should be. You must stay until the Bleeding Star rises and the stones splinter open.’

Part 7

Daenys wonders if her mama is being truthful in her story. It’s hard to imagine Mama crying over anything. It’s even harder imagining Papa doing so. Then she remembers that Papa says Mama never tells stories… not even when things are hard to say. She remembers that Papa says that if there is no one else he can count on, he can count on Mama and trust her with anything that he might need. She wraps her arms tighter around Mama’s neck with the thought and lets her head rest against her shoulder… just for a minute. If Papa can count on Mama with everything, then Daenys can too.

Torrhen leaves his daughters to their chatter and their play, confident in their protection within the godswood. Few came into the woods and those who did often came early in the mornings.

‘Aegon only ever seeks anything from me if it is of benefit or if it is of convenience for him. It is how he has always been.’

It is her chosen bit of reading from the previous night that inspired her dream, she knows. The oddity of the dreams is not lost upon her, though it is not the first time that she has dreamt of the Conquering Queen and the King Who Knelt. Why her mind is dwelling upon them of late, Laira cannot say. It is a preferred dream, though, when compared to those that haunted her within the walls of the Red Keep.

For a few moments, Laira lies awake, eyes looking over into the soft flames still lapping at the remnants of wood burning within the hearth. As she begins to drift back into slumber, she watches the flames and shadows dance along the dark stone. Once, she nearly convinces herself that she sees the likeness of a dragon dancing within the flames and along the smooth expanse of the stones that hold it. The likeness is gone within the next moment and never appears again as the queen begins to drift back to sleep.

Part 8

As Daenys looks up at her aunt, small hand brushing softly against Fyrebloom’s crimson scales, she frowns. Daenys can’t see any of her mama in Aunt Rhaenys. Mama’s eyes are dark violet where Aunt Rhaenys’ are pale lilac. Mama is tall where Aunt Rhaenys is short. And, Mama’s skin is the same pretty olive color that Daenys’ is while Aunt Rhaenys’ skin is paler. Even her aunt’s hair is different from her mama’s. Aunt Rhaenys’ is more gold while her mama’s looks like threads of spun silver.

Aunt Rhaenys reaches to rest a hand against her head and, when she does, Fyrebloom turns on her with a vicious snarl and a snap of her jaws. Her aunt just barely avoids having her hand snapped up in the small dragoness’ jaws.

“I don’t want to be Queen! I don’t want to marry Aenys!” Daenys shouts it back and, immediately, Fyrebloom is hissing and snapping her jaws towards her aunt. Daenys wants Aunt Rhaenys to go away. She wants her to go away so, so bad.

Visenya laughs at that, the sound low and dark sounding. “Is that your attempt at a threat, sister?” she questions, dark amethyst eyes staring down at her youngest sibling. “What will Aegon do?” she challenges. “Take my titles from me? Fly to Winterfell with Balerion? I dare him to try.” “Visenya…” “Balerion is old,” the eldest Queen continues on, her voice overtaking her sister’s. “She is difficult to rouse. Or, so the dragonkeepers tell me. She is prone to laziness now. She is slow.” Visenya steps closer to Rhaenys then, “I dare our brother to try some underhanded attempt against my family,” she admits. “If he does, Vhagar and I will rip the Black Dread and her rider from the skies.” The threat is there, laid bare for Rhaenys to take as she wishes. Visenya cares not if she runs to Aegon to tell what has been spoken. She will hold true to her spoken words should the necessity arise.

Part 9

Taking the book from her husband, Visenya turns it to face her, eyes glancing across the words on the page and those detailed along the top of the page in onyx and golden lettering. “The Great Other,” she reads aloud, body shifting nearer to his when she feels the slip of his hands under the edges of her chemise and up along the backs of her thighs. “A Northern tale?” she questions. There is no true interest for her in the text or its origins. It keeps her game alive, though… no matter how short the time. “One from across the sea,” he tells her, fingers drifting along the backs of her bare thighs. “It was among my mother’s collection. She always claimed it was given to her by an Essosi trader at White Harbor,” Torrhen explains. As he speaks, his hands roam higher, sweeping in until he can press his fingers along the inner plains of her thighs. There is no denying the flutter of the muscles as his fingers drift along his wife’s skin. “It is, supposedly, a text from Asshai by the Shadow. Given its translation, though, I am doubtful of its origins.” For a flicker of time, Visenya focuses less on what Torrhen speaks in answer to her and more on the press of his fingers trailing along the backs of her thighs and then up between them. “I am unfamiliar with it,” Visenya tells him, eyes glancing briefly across the words scrawled upon the page. “A tale linked with the Red God of the Asshai’i,” the Queen murmurs. As she speaks, eyes still drifting across the page, several phrases seem to jump forward. Lord of Darkness. God of Night and Terror. Soul of Ice.

“I do not want something to happen to you,” Visenya tells him, voice little more than a whisper. “Something could happen,” she goes on. Aegon had grown selfish and petty in recent years… had always been so, yet the conquering of six kingdoms had only amplified his nature. It would not be above him to strike Visenya at the points where it would hurt her most. As it was, there were three of them: her children, her husband, and Vhagar. Her brother will not be so foolish as to make an attempt on her children… not after their most recent discussion. He will not strike against Vhagar, either. Not when the dragoness is producing clutches of healthy dragon hatchlings. Aegon will not be above striking at Torrhen, though. He would do so just to make a point… just to hurt her in some unimaginable way.

Nothing more is said regarding Viserion’s observations. The dragoness slips into a quiet slumber while Laira keeps her seat along her garden bench. Dragonkin lies forgotten in her lap, page still open to the very one that she had ceased reading when Viserion’s questioning had begun. Much the same, her copy of the Jade Compendium still lies alongside her, having never been opened during her tenure out among the gardens.

Part 10

Listening to his response, Laira keeps her fingers busy against his skin. She hears him say more, yet struggles to discern what he says. All at once, her attention is drawn across her and Hal’s apartments to the paned windows on the opposite side of the space. She catches sight of something out beyond the glass. It is dark, moving about along the outer windowsill. Covered in shadow, it seems to be animal-like as the Queen watches it in its movements. Suddenly, a shadowed head snatches to look through the glass in her direction, three points of red light shining bright in the darkness. And, just for a brief moment, it feels as though a blade has been shoved through her temples.

“How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have?” her voice mocks, fingers drumming along the arms of her chair. “A thousand eyes, and one, the answer goes. And yet, Lord Bloodraven, you have been blind.”

“Isn’t that how you dealt with Daemon?” she accuses. When he takes another threatening step towards her, her fingers reach to rest along the leathered grip of the sword resting along the top of her desk. A distraction. Nonetheless, Dark Sister is warm underneath her fingers. There is a comfort in that. “You have always been a coward. A coward and a kinslayer.”

The feel of Dark Sister being ripped from her flesh is far more painful than the initial strike. Shiera screams, crumbles into a mass of bloodied silver and pearl colored silks and shaking limbs. Blood has already started to gather in her throat. She feels herself choking on it, gasps for air. Above her, Bloodraven is now standing, the shaft of the broken arrow she’d used to attack him still protruding from his eye socket. His own face is a twisted and bloodied mess. “Did you truly believe that you could kill me so easily, Shiera?” He sheathes Dark Sister in her scabbard, the blade still bloody from her newest victim. “There is no place that you can go that I will not find you and put an end to you.”