#i wanted to write a rendition of this where the two of them go with other kids to help with like chores or smth but alksjlasjd

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

These were the Silt Verses.

(closeups/design notes/rambling under the cut, because it took me over a month to make this so I'm going to be a little self-indulgent.)

spoilers for the whole podcast ahead!

Our protagonists! Notes:

Some of these came out more accurate to how I see them than others. Hayward in particular looks much less grimy and haggard than I imagine him. Carpenter, on the other hand, is perfect in my eyes. Shrue is (subconsciously) very much inspired by the wonderful @unbloodiedmartyr's rendition of them (thanks Sacha, your art goes insanely hard!)

Hayward and Paige face away, a nod to their final parting. Carpenter and Faulkner face one another, in deference to their final reunion.

Val and Shrue are both shown at the moment of their deaths.

Paige, the only character confirmed to survive the immediate finale, is the only one with closed eyes.

I'm a blond Faulkner truther. Sorry.

Someone left some really really insane tags on a Valpost I made like a month ago about how Val can alter her appearance as she pleases, but the Last Word can never convince her not to see the actual aftermath of her torture when she looks in the mirror, and it sent me a little crazy, so I was trying to capture that failing self-deceit here. She's meant to look absurdly young, but where the flames overlay her face, you can see the prayer marks and lacerations on her skin.

I had this out on my desk for days and every time a family member dropped by I had to frantically hide the fact I was drawing 'politician gets shot in the head' fanart. RIP.

These are the marks of the Many Below! They look Not Great enlarged, but hey ho. I wanted them to look hidden and incidental, separated in each corner as they are:

'Begin with a balbis on its side. Within the two spaces, a circle marked by a single dot.' Drawn in the silt of the White Gull River.

'Beneath this, a pair of concentric circles. Within the annulus, an ovoid with a slit - a staring eye.' Scrawled across the pug postcard Cross uses to write his idea to scapegoat Shrue.

'Under that, a lemniscate over a heptagram[...]' Made up of the ribbon that binds Mercer and Gage's rifles.

'[...]and three parallel lines beneath.' Faulkner's staff, broken into three pieces.

Interstitial illustrations. There are four sets of these, which (roughly) correspond to more stand-alone episodes & fan favourites. This is my favourite, for my beloved Chapter 36: All Lovers Part As Dust. I had a blast distilling recurring motifs of the episode into one little illustration, and I'm really proud of the result; I think it captures the match of sweet and bitter that the episode in question inspires. The clock points to the eleventh hour.

These are pretty self-explanatory: I couldn't pass up a chance to draw the inciting miracle of the series, and it made sense to pair it with the image of Paige and Hayward sailing downriver at the end of Season 2, an image which has always haunted me.

The hare and the owl are from Chapter 26, a symbol of the Wound Tree's emergence. The lobster and fish are intended as a nod to Faulkner and Rane, a character who I love but couldn't include more overtly. Lobsters are seen as a symbol of devotion and fidelity because, apocryphally, they mate for life, and yet the lobster here is without its pair. The fish was intended to be a remora, which swims beside sharks. (Yes, I'm aware remora are tropical sea-dwelling fish, and humbly beg any marine biologists reading this not to kill me on the spot).

The Killing And Violence Siblings!

These object illustrations were deliberately positioned as parallels and specifically reference Season 2, marking the point of the poem that is made up of that series' titles (an attention to the series chronology that roughly coheres throughout the piece. Very roughly.)

Mercer and Gage's rifles are twisted round with a red ribbon, which bleeds into the White Gull, binding them together and reflecting how they're rarely seen apart. The ribbon's also a deliberate parallel to the banner wrapping Carpenter and Faulkner's hands elsewhere in the art.

Carpenter's axe and Faulkner's sororicidal mirror shard are depicted alongside fish hooks, as though they're separated for much of the season, the Parish draws them back together in the end. Also an echo of Paige's line, 'Love is just a meat hook for you to catch me on.'

There's only blood on one of the rifles, in a nod to Mercer and Gage's uneven dynamic.

Bookend landscapes. The pages were intended to reference the Silt Verses as an in-story document, and represent the themes of truth, myth and record throughout.

The illumination!

It was always going to be a radio-- not a nod specifically to Sid Wright, but really to the use of broadcast, music and sound throughout the show. TSV's sound design is truly one of the things I admire most about it.

The radio is meant to be on Carpenter and Faulkner's dashboard, as they drive along the river in the very first episode, hence its positioning at the start of the poem.

I conceived this as the centre of the piece, and drew the rest around it.

aaaand that was a lot. I didn't cover everything, and I recommend clicking on the final piece to get full quality and see how the details interact with one another-- but if you've read through all these meanderings, thank you, sibling. I started this two weeks after the finale, and managed a full relisten while drawing. It's been a labour of love, and I now hate watercolours more than I have words for.

[fortifice]

His father’s tirades were often callous reminders that his children were thankless as they were negligent. all the assiduous work of their forefathers could be rendered nugatory by two children and their predilection for not adhering to his rules, failing to meet his expectations over and over. Those proud, detailed portraits lour at them as they are steered into their father’s study, his voice raucous as its timbre pitched higher and more fierce. They could not hope to fathom the importance of their family, their noble heritage more than a child’s mind could comprehend. Serval was obdurate, even at such a young age she would rebut without thinking of the repercussions, the punishments she received only served to harden her will not break her into a more congruous form. Gepard was quiet, reticent, in the long, commanding stretch of his sister’s shadow he was far more malleable, he would listen, learn, become what was intended of him. Their father had to appraise his children not as youths but as potential, they would be crafted to up hold their esteemed family’s banner, it was their destiny. Gepard never understood why his sister and father fought, often, he would cover his ears with cupped hands and drown out their ire. It didn’t make sense, that afternoon had teemed with so much delight that even Gepard had returned him with a brisk skip to his stride, his sister’s laughter dulcet. He had known they would get in trouble, they always did when they circumvented their father’s lessons but the joy had been so palpable that it had left him humming pleasantly. 

His sister knew a secret place, one where only children could go, the time permitted to adventuring was endless, there would be other kids like them there. The Landau siblings were familiar with the aristocratic circles of society but their children were always haughty and indifferent, forming any sort of meaningful bond with them felt impossible. His sister’s expression would often sour when their father suggested they make nice with the other children, they were always so boring she would say, he agreed because their glacial hostility made him balk. The children who played out on the old, scrap heap were excited just to meet new faces and quickly ushered Gepard into their game of kings and monsters. For the first time he wasn’t scolded for acting brazenly but encouraged to and as their narrative came to a conclusion he found his chest puffed out with pride as he guarded his pile of resplendent gems and gilded treasure, which was infact just tangled wire and metal scavenged from refuse. Serval fit the role of valiant princess much more than the insipid one of noble’s daughter, the children rallied behind her as she approached his den, the piece of wood she christened her blade lowered and pointed at her brother. He laughed, it sounded almost as arrogant as those other children, his hands poised on his hips as he barked “ You won’t take my treasure from me you..” he paused, considering how he should insult his elder sister “ fool !” and he waved his tiny clenched fist at her. Serval met the challenge by swiping her blade through the air, narrowing her frosty eyes and taking a confident step forward. “ It’s over for you dragon.” How could it be a bad thing, he thinks, as Serval bickers pointedly and his father glares down at her with contempt, if everyone else was having so much fun. “ You cannot be messing around with commoner’s children.” his father’s cadence is withering, his fury makes the room feel suffocatingly cold.  “ we didn’t hurt anyone, we were just playing.” she retaliates, her hands on her hips now as a defense, there’s no pride in that. They were just children after all, they didn’t know any better but what did better mean when the sliver of joy was pilfered by adult’s with selfish motives. “ I won’t hear another word of it.” he stands behind Serval in that moment and she is much like she was as a princess hardened by battle, a pillar of protection for any who gathered before her. The argument was over, their bedtimes would be straight after dinner and there was no more room for disagreement. As the two of them marched off to their room, Servals fists balled at her side, trembling, he felt like he did not understand how this was fair, that those children who had welcomed him so readily could be branded as unworthy. He wanted them as friends far more than he had ever wished for friendship from a noble’s child. He wants to ask her what it means - why they can’t but he can see his sister is on the verge of tears and it makes his chest tighten. How could their father believe something like that ? that those children could never be their friends. 

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 8

Collaboration with the Dusty Bun to my Steeb @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: The unresolved fight between you and Eddie continues as your birthday comes around and he still won't come to celebrate with you and your friends.

Note: I can't believe it's been over a year now since I started writing this series. That feels insane to me. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 6.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Today should have been perfect. 

For one, it’s your birthday, and it coincides with your off day from classes. You got a free coffee from the local café this morning. And your friends are planning a night out at the bar now that you’ve finally reached the legal drinking age. 

But it’s not perfect, because you and Eddie still haven’t spoken since your argument. To be honest, you’re not sure if he even wants to fix things. 

It’s all you thought about the whole day while you babysat Danny and Amelia Harrington. You force yourself to concentrate on the road as you drive to pick the older kids up from school, the youngest two safely buckled in the car seats. 

Ryan and Natalie walk out first, bundled up to fight off the heavy wind and animatedly discussing some intense second-grade gossip. Luke and Theo trail behind, play-fighting until they reach the car. 

The sliding doors have barely opened before Luke is climbing into the car and shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You wince, massaging your ear with your forefinger. “Thanks, little man,” you say, and the rest of the group chimes in with their own cheers. 

“I got you a gift!” Luke chirps, something crinkling in his grasp. He hands you a bright blue snack pack of mini Oreos. It’s opened and currently only contains a single cookie. 

You smile gratefully, trying not to laugh. “My favorite!” you exclaim, taking the lone Oreo and popping it in your mouth. 

Ryan digs into his backpack and takes out a yellow piece of construction paper. “I made you this card,” he says shyly. 

It reads, “Happy Birthday to the best babysitter in the world!” Below the printed words, he’s drawn himself, Luke, you, and Eddie. Your heart pangs when you think about that stupid fight, the one where you’d both let your insecurities run wild. 

If this is the end of the relationship, how will you break it to the boys?

You don’t have time to ruminate on that before Luke leads everyone, even baby Amelia, into a very off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to You. Even if Amelia can’t speak yet, her melodic mumbling and gurgling only enhanced the performance. They’ve barely taken a breath after the song is finished before Natalie and Theo are asking questions. 

“How old are you?”

“Are you gonna have cake?”

“What presents did you get?”

Luke, of course, pipes up with a request of his own:

“Since it’s your birthday, can we get McDonalds? I want a Happy Meal.”

When you get back to the Harrington household—sans McDonald’s to Luke’s disappointment—you situate the two youngest in front of the television and pop Mulan into the VHS player for them. Once you’ve made sure Amelia is securely in her walker and Danny is cuddled up on the couch between his favorite teddy bear and his stuffed rhinoceros, you head into the kitchen to prepare a snack for the older kids.

The four of them seem to be doing alright with their homework as you put one bowl of baby carrots and one bowl of Cheez-It crackers on the table. Unsurprisingly, four small hands grab for the processed orange snack, bypassing the healthier option all together. 

For the next hour or so you flit back and forth between the dining room to help with homework and the living room to attend to any toddler needs or upsets. The time passes quicker than you would’ve thought, and you’re surprised when you hear the front door unlocking. You had known Steve and Nancy would be coming home early today to give you a chance to go out and celebrate your birthday, but the hour snuck up on you. 

The moment that Amelia hears her parents step into the house, she’s no longer interested in the avalanche that buried the Huns and has the urgent need for her mom to pick her up. 

“They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Steve says as he reaches up to muss Theo’s hair. The little boy just ignores him as he tries to figure out the math problem he’s been working on for the last five minutes. 

“Nah, not too bad,” you say. Trying to contain a smirk, you lean in towards Steve and speak in a loud conspiratorial whisper. “Except…these two,” you say, gesturing to Ryan and Natalie. “Evil masterminds.”

Natalie just hmphs and tosses her light brown hair over her shoulder while Ryan sticks his tongue out at you. With a chuckle, you walk over and press a kiss to the top of the eldest Munson boy’s head. 

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” you tell him. The truth is that you definitely have time to spare before you have to start getting ready for the bar tonight, but you want to make sure you’re gone by the time Eddie gets here. 

Ryan turns in his seat to look at you and opens his mouth, but before he can speak Eddie enters the house. Your body has had many different reactions to Eddie over the course of you knowing one another, but the one that comes over you now is completely foreign. Heat seems to rise to your cheeks, but it feels like your veins are made of ice and you could snap them beneath your skin if you moved too quickly. 

Eddie toes off his chunky black work boots by the front door and does a double take when he sees you standing by Ryan. He gives you a tentative smile and you give a small nod in recognition. Needing to focus on something else, you look back down at Ryan and gently move some of his growing honey colored hair off of his forehead. You can still see Eddie in your periphery though. He’s coming closer towards you, and it feels like every step he takes makes your heart race a little faster. 

Once he’s so close that you can’t avoid looking at him, you notice a small pink gift bag in his hands. Eddie’s deep brown eyes are looking down at it too, but you both raise your heads simultaneously and meet each other’s gaze. Pain and longing radiate off the two of you so strongly that even baby Amelia could probably sense it. 

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, offering you the bag. 

Slowly, you reach out to take it, the white tissue paper that sticks out of the top crinkling beneath your fingers. You give Eddie a polite smile and start to leave, but Luke stops you in your tracks.

“You gotta open it!”

A nod is the only response you can give Luke, not trusting your voice—or even knowing what you’d say. Biting your lip, you ruffle through the pristine white tissue paper and pull out a pair of earrings fastened to an earring card. They’re beautiful. Three tiny hearts stacked on top of each other, all purple and connected by silver chain links. The urge to put them on immediately is strong, 

“The hearts…one’s for Ryan, one’s for Luke, and one’s for, um, me,” Eddie explains bashfully as he slips his hands into his pockets. 

Your eyes fill with tears, a cacophony of emotions in each drop. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, bending down to hug Luke and Ryan. You stand up and face Eddie, feeling the boys’ eyes drilling into you as they wait for you to embrace their dad like you always do. 

You lean in and give him a small hug, lingering for an extra moment. He smells of motor oil and sweat, but you can’t get enough. It’s a test of wills to tear yourself away from him. As you pull back, a tight smile forms on your face.

“I should get going,” you tell them kindly.

“Where’re you going?” Luke asks. 

You ruffle his hair lovingly. “My friends are having a birthday party for me. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Or,” Ryan offers, dragging out the word, “we could treat you to dinner tomorrow.”

Luke grins. “Can we go to McDonalds?”

You can’t help but laugh. The boys bring you more humor and joy than they could possibly imagine. 

“You boys are too much sometimes,” you tell them. If you’re being honest, you would love to spend time with them and Eddie, even if it’s just eating fast food. Anywhere with the three of them becomes its own adventure. It breaks your heart knowing there’s still this friction between you and Eddie and you’re not exactly on speaking terms. You can’t dwell on it, though. Not tonight.

When you arrive at the bar, it’s bursting with people. Groups have gathered to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, clinking oversized mugs teeming with foamy beer. It’s much noisier than you’d normally prefer, but you’re glad for the excess sound to drown out your thoughts. 

Jess spots you immediately and waves you over to where she, Lily, and Paul are sitting in front of the bartender. As soon as you plop down on a stool, Lily places a sash around you. 

“It’s my 21st birthday? Really?”

“Well, it is!” she quips with a laugh. “Besides, people will totally buy you drinks if you wear this.”

She isn’t wrong. You take shot after shot, eventually losing track of the total amount. A tiny voice in your head reminds you not to mix light and dark liquor, but it’s too late for that. 

Your friends keep toasting to the ‘birthday girl,’ which prompts more people to cheer and offer to treat you to another round. By the time you get up to dance, your head is spinning. 

You sway along to Bon Jovi’s ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ until you can no longer stand. Jess is kindly letting you lean on her, her arm wrapped around your waist, when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” an unfamiliar voice asks, tone laced with sultriness. 

You turn around to see a guy about your age, a ten-dollar bill between his pointer and middle fingers. 

“Oh, I-I shouldn’t,” you start, but Lily jumps in instead. 

“She would love that.” She smiles at him, then whispers in your ear, “the best way to get over Eddie is to get under someone else.” She sticks out her hand to the mystery man and introduces both herself and you. I don’t want to get over Eddie, your brain thinks before drunkenly attempting to focus on what the man in front of you is saying now.

Mystery Man smiles. “I’m Stefon.”

Unbeknownst to you, one Wayne Munson is watching the entire encounter from across the bar. It isn’t his usual digs, but the guys from the plant invited him out for drinks to celebrate the holiday, and he obliged. 

He sees you take another drink with trepidation, a young man resting his hand on your hip. It seems like you’re barely aware of what’s going on, sending a queasiness through Wayne’s stomach that definitely isn’t from the alcohol. He’s used to minding his business, but when the guy puts his arm around you, he makes the decision to call Eddie from the payphone. 

Just under fifteen minutes later, Eddie is pushing his way into the smoky and boisterous bar, eyes anxiously scanning for you. A surge of relief floods his veins when he sees your beautiful familiar face amongst the sea of green clothing, but the feeling is short-lived when he sees you leaning on a strange man. 

It’s hard to tell if you’re aware that you’re leaning on him or not, because you’re talking to Lily animatedly. The man has his eyes glued to you, but he may or may not be on your radar. Your boyfriend isn’t waiting to find out, though. Eddie’s met your friend Paul who you’re out with tonight, so he immediately knows it isn’t him with you and Lily, so he shoves his way through the crowd and shoulders the mystery man out of the way and gently holds your arm to steady you. 

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Eddie says, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd and music. He’s doing his best to be inconspicuous but you’re too drunk for that.

“Eddie!” You fling your arms around him in a hug and let out a loud and giddy laugh. Eddie feels a small surge of pride when you seem to forget all about the guy standing there—if you’d even remembered he was there to begin with. When he looks into your eyes, he can see the glassiness from the alcohol as well as glee that seeing him caused. “Eddie, what’re you doing here? You didn’t wan’ be here!” 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling a lung full of secondhand smoke. “You need water and sleep, baby,” he says, trying to be heard over the music.

“But it’s my party!” you whine, giving an exaggerated pout. “An’ you didn’t come ‘cuz you don’t love me.”

His brows shoot up as his heart falls. “I don’t love you?” Obviously, you’re drunk but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

“Nuh-uh.” You scrunch your nose. “Maybe you do, ‘cuz you’re here now.” Your frown quickly flips to a drunken smile. “We should dance! ‘Cuz you love me!”

Eddie tilts his head, giving you a skeptical look. “I thought you said I didn’t.” 

“But you came here to see me, so you do,” you explain as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. The fact that you’re swaying where you stand doesn’t help your credibility though.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see the man you were leaning on finally slink away. Apparently, he only needed to hear the confirmation that Eddie does indeed love you.

“Let me take you home, princess,” Eddie says, doing his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“That sounds like a line,” you say with a giggle that’s interrupted by a hiccup. 

“It’s probably the most chivalrous thing anyone’s said to you tonight,” Eddie says, looking around at the other men in the bar like they’re vultures, ready to step in and claim you for their own. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you lament with an over dramatic sigh. “But just cause you’re so cute.” You giggle again as you lean against Eddie. 

At least she’s leaning against me now, he thinks bitterly. Too exasperated for more words, Eddie just presses a kiss to the top of your head and laces his fingers with yours—tightly, so he won’t lose you in the crowded bar. 

Eddie catches Jess’s eye where she’s leaning against the bar and nods towards the door, letting her know that he’s taking you home. She nods in return and gives a thumbs up. Eddie scans the crowd to see if he can spot his uncle, but there’s just too many people.

“Hey, you’re not wearin’ green,” you say once you’re outside in the cool night air. The air feels fresh yet too silent after being in that stuffy place. 

“Hmm?” Eddie hums as he helps you into the passenger’s seat.

“No green! Is St. Pagrick Day though!”

“Your birthday is a far more important holiday,” he says as he closes the door for you. He doesn’t even consider if you heard the words or not, it was his inner monologue just coming out. 

The drive back to the apartment starts off with you chattering on, still feeling good from the drinks.

“It’s so cute that the boys wanna buy me MiDonal’s! They’re the sweetest boys ever. Where are we goin’? Oh, hey! You’re movin’ into your new aparment soon. Do you still wan’ me to—hey look, a dog!—wan’ me to go shopping for the stuff that you need? Eddie? Are you still mad at me? I hope not. I don’t like when we fight. I never wanna fight witchu. I love you! I never loved no one before, ya know. Just you! I was only bein’ such a pain in the butt because I wanna be by your side. Like partners. Wanna help you and have fun with you and do all the things with you. I hope you wanna be that with me too! Like Bonnie and Clyde! But no stealing or dying. Do you, hey, hey Eddie, do you remember that time a long time ago you said you liked that blue shirt I wore? Ya know, the one with the buttons and sleeves? Well, now it’s my favorite—”

Eddie glances over, concerned that your speech—that was highly amusing to him—stopped so abruptly. You’re just looking up at the streetlights as they pass, your eyes getting heavier by the second, the mesmerizing sight lulling you to sleep.

Eddie chuckles to himself and the rest of the drive is quiet.

When you finally arrive back at the apartment, you’re practically comatose in the passenger seat. Eddie half carries you up the stairs and holds you close to his side with one arm while he unlocks the door with the other.

Somehow, he manages to get you laying down on your bed without bumping into anything on the way. You look up at him with a sleepy smile that Eddie swears is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m gonna help you change, okay? I don’t think that dress will be comfortable to sleep in.”

You nod absentmindedly as Eddie grabs a pair of your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Eddie is an expert at undressing you by now but it’s harder when your body can’t even hold itself up. The green dress gets stuck on your nose as Eddie pulls it off over your head and it makes you giggle, though it’s much softer than your laughter in the car. He slips your pink plaid pajama bottoms over your white lace panties and chuckles to himself as he sees he pulled a Rugrats t-shirt out of your drawer. An amused smile grows on his face as he shakes his head.

“Better?” he asks.

A big yawn accompanies the nod that you give him. Satisfied that you’re not going to fall over if he lets go, Eddie walks towards the head of the bed so he can pull your blankets down. It takes both of you working together to get you beneath the blankets.

Once you’re settled, Eddie shucks himself out of his jeans and t-shirt and climbs in bed next to you. Without any hesitation, you scoot over and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to your head.

Eddie isn't sure if in the morning, once you’ve sobered up, you’ll still be fighting or not. He doesn’t want to be, but he also knows the issues haven’t been resolved between the two of you. What you said tonight about Eddie not loving you definitely has to be addressed tomorrow—whether you were drunk or not when you said it, he doesn’t care. 

Soft snores begin to fill your room and Eddie smiles to himself. His eyes slip closed, and he holds you a little tighter against his body.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says into the darkness.

You wake up the next morning with a dull headache. It definitely could be worse, especially considering how much you’d drank last night. 

There’s two Tylenol and a bottle of water on your nightstand, none of which you remember putting there…

You shift positions and see Eddie curled up on the pillow next to you, wearing just his boxers. Soft snores punctuate the rise and fall of his chest. 

“Eddie?” you whisper, eyes wide. 

He stirs and stretches, giving you a small smile. 

“Morning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Um, just a headache. Not too much of a hangover.” You’re working to figure out exactly why he’s here. 

He grins. “Must be nice to be 21,” he jokes. “I have one beer too many and I’m out of commission for a week.”

You’re too focused on the maybe-boyfriend-shaped elephant in the room to laugh at his joke. Instead, you take a deep breath and muster up all of your courage. 

“Did we, um…”

Eddie pulls back. “No. Nope!” He shakes his head. “I brought you home and we fell asleep. I promise.”

You nod, relief flooding your body. “Okay. Okay, good.” You swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“I’ll make some breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” 

You get out of bed and stretch your muscles before heading towards the door. But first you stop and look back at Eddie. “I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”

“No,” Eddie assures you. “Your knight in shining leather got there before anything could happen.” He flexes his muscles dramatically, which causes you to chuckle as you step out of your room and into the bathroom. 

Eddie puts his clothes from yesterday back on and heads out to the kitchen. He makes pancakes, and you come out of your room freshly showered and dressed just as they’re ready. 

“Smells good,” you say, rubbing at your eye. The shower helped wake you up, but your body is still tired from last night. 

You and Eddie sit down across from one another and start eating in silence before you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, where are the boys?” you ask, desperate for some semblance of an interaction.

“Harrington’s,” Eddie answers before shoving a mouthful of syrup-covered pancake into his mouth. “Steve and Nance said they got them, I should go to you.”

“And, uh, why did you show up? I mean, did you change your mind about celebrating with us or..?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. “Wayne was, um, actually at the bar last night with some guys from his work. He saw some assholes starting to get handsy with you, so he called me.”

“Oh.” You stay quiet as you move a few pieces of pancake around on your plate. 

You had hoped Eddie had changed his mind and wanted to spend your birthday night with you after all, but he was only there because his uncle called him. 

Eddie bites his lower lip, hating the tension in the air. The two of you used to sit in comfortable silences with one another, so this is excruciating.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie says before pausing to clear his throat. “It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with you. Because I did. I do. I always do. I just, I don’t know, thought I’d bring the party down. I didn’t want you to feel like I was supervision or some shit like that. And I wasn’t sure how I’d meld in with your friends.”

“Eddie,” you start before taking a deep breath. “I never think of you as some authority type figure. You’re just Eddie. Like, yeah, maybe you’re twelve years older than me, but I don’t really feel like there’s this chasm between us or anything. Do…do you?”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, making sure he picks his words carefully so as not to give you a wrong impression. “When it’s you and me? No. When it’s us and the boys? No. But when it comes to you hanging out with your friends, I guess I feel, I don’t know, like I don’t belong.”

“Belong where?”

He sighs and twirls one of his rings around his finger as a nervous twitch. “When I see your friends it’s this reminder that I’m not your age. It feels like all the shit that I try not to let bother me is unavoidable as I see you with guys it would be more socially acceptable for you to date. Or seeing your girl friends going off to do things with their boyfriends that I can’t because of my job and kids. It makes me feel selfish.” His eyes mist over for a second. “Like I’m keeping you from that.”

“Eddie, no one is keeping me from anything. Especially you. You act like I don’t have a choice or say in this. I’m pretty sure you didn’t kidnap me and rope me into an arranged marriage or something.” You give a small smile, hoping to ease some of the frustration radiating off of him. “I don’t want someone my age. I don’t want someone younger. I don’t want someone older that isn’t you.”

“I know that,” Eddie says. “I swear, I do. I guess I’ve had a number done on me, though. Got beaten down enough that the insecurity comes second nature. It’s not your fault, you shouldn’t have to pay for things that she did.”

“Can I beat her?”

He chuckles and seeing him smile makes a genuine one grow on your own face.

“She’s not worth it,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “But I see where you were coming from with being upset. It probably did seem like I just didn’t want to go out with you and your friends. I’m sorry. I also get where you’re coming from with the court stuff. Wanting to be by my side. Princess, you have no idea how much that means to me. Honestly. I just…I don’t want you to have to be in the middle of all of that.”

“I know,” you say, lowering your eyes back down to your plate. “I’m sorry, too. I was overstepping when it came to Brittany. That’s your ordeal, you get to call the shots when it comes to that. I only want you to know that you have my support. In whatever way you need it.”

He reaches across the table and slips his hand into yours. “I promise to tell you in what ways I’ll need your support through this whole thing.”

You nod and give his hand a small squeeze. The air around you feels lighter and it’s as if weights have been lifted off your shoulders. 

“Are—Are we okay?” you ask, wanting to clarify.

“We’re more than okay,” he reassures you as he returns your hand squeeze with one of his own. “But there is something else we need to talk about.”

“Sure. What?”

He sighs and gently taps your entwined hands against the tabletop. “Last night…when I got to the bar to pick you up, you, um, you said something. I know you were drunk but it still hurt.”

Immediately you feel mortified. Did I really…?

“I thought you said I didn’t do anything stupid?”

“Well, this was saying something stupid.”

How bad was it that it’s making him stall like this? “What did I say?” You wince, afraid to hear what you might’ve said in your inebriated state.

“You, uh, you said that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t come to the bar with you and your friends because I don’t love you.”

Your eyes are immediately flooded with tears. The heartbreak and shame you feel for uttering something so absurd cuts you deeply, and you push yourself out of your chair and walk around the table to Eddie. He scoots back so you can perch yourself in his lap. 

Gently, you cup Eddie’s face in your hands and stare into his eyes. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Please always remember that. Sober, drunk, high, or otherwise in an altered state…I love you. I am so sorry I said that to you. It amazes me that somehow you love me, but that doesn’t mean I doubt it for a second.”

Eddie nods and wraps his arms around your waist. Your shirt rides up a little and his syrupy fingers rub against your skin—but you couldn’t care less.

“You’re mine,” you tell him. “I’m yours. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” Eddie agrees.

The two of you sit there together for a few silent minutes before Jess’s door creaks open and she shuffles into the kitchen, looking far worse than you felt when you woke up. She gives a half-hearted wave, as if even that small movement was too much for her. 

Eddie smiles and nods his head towards the kitchen counter. “I made a stack of pancakes for you,” he says.

Jess heads towards the counter but pauses to put a hand on your shoulder. “If you don’t marry him, I will,” she vows. 

Deciding to play hooky from school and work didn’t take much convincing for you or Eddie. You’re not feeling great, and he’s more than happy to take care of you. 

You’re washing the breakfast dishes while Eddie stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y’know,” he murmurs just under your ear, “I had another birthday surprise up my sleeve.”

He pulls you closer, and you try—and fail—to focus on the task at hand. “And what’s that?”

He smirks and presses soft kisses into your neck. “Well, I bought a bottle of champagne,” he says, “and I figured we could have some drunk sex?”

You snap off the water and dry your hands, spinning to face him. “And where is this bottle of champagne, handsome?”

Eddie blushes slightly. “Um, at the Harringtons’ place,” he admits. “But we could still do the sex part, if you’re feeling up to it.”

You press your body to his, grinning widely. “Bedroom?”

“Hell yes.”

Clothes are shed instantly, leaving a trail that leads to your room. You lay back on the bed and Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting his leg between yours and kissing you softly. 

“Let me take care of my birthday girl, hm?” he coos, nibbling on your ear. He chuckles when you whimper, two of his thick fingers trailing downward towards your pussy. “Oh, you poor thing. Needy already?”

“Mhm.”

He grins, scooting back and pressing his lips just above your clit. His tongue grazes your folds, over the sensitive bud, and he sucks on it gently. You moan when he positions your legs on his shoulders. “Keep making those noises, baby.”

You eagerly oblige, whining as he slips his middle finger into your pussy, tongue remaining trained on your clit. The overstimulation has you grinding against his face, desperate to get some relief. 

He wraps his free hand around your thigh and squeezes it, bringing himself even closer into you. Muffled, barely audible fucks and tastes goods escape his lips, driving you even wilder. 

“E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum!” you mewl, fingers digging into the bed sheets. He continues lapping at your cunt until you’re screaming his name. 

Eddie pulls back, face shiny with your slick. “Need you,” he growls, and his painfully hard cock bobs in agreement. 

He crawls up your body, pressing kisses to your soft flesh as he makes his way towards your neck. Teeth gently graze the side of your throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

Taking advantage of your legs spread openly before him, Eddie settles himself between them and lines his cock up with your soaking entrance. It feels like it takes an eternity until he finally bottoms out, making you feel so full and revel in that exquisite stretch. 

Sweat breaks out along your hairline and it melds with Eddie’s as he rests his forehead against yours. The bed beneath you shakes as your body rocks with your boyfriend’s. A slight tilt of his hips has your hands scrambling against the lilac sheet below you, desperate to hold on to something—anything. Eddie wants you to hold on to him, though. His pale toned arms seek out your own until he slips his hands into yours and threads your fingers together. Never breaking eye contact even for a second, Eddie holds your hands up above your head, staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. He’s not smiling, but there’s a light in his eyes and the way his lips part just slightly only adds to your enjoyment. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” Eddie says, voice low and husky in the small space you’re both occupying. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“L-Love you, too, Eds.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his hips roll up against yours. “You have the cutest nose. I hope any kids we have inherit that from you.”

With every thrust of Eddie’s hips, he lists another thing he loves about you.

“Your lips are so soft. Sometimes I get torn between kissing them or staring at them. And your laugh? God, you have no idea what that does to me. It’s so infectious and bubbly and completely genuine. One of the best sounds in the world.”

There’s nothing else in the world right now other than Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s body. All that exists is the two of you, staring into one another’s eyes as pleasurable groans and whimpers fall from your lips. Sweet sighs and shared breath connect you both, adding to the already dizzying intimacy. You stare up into those large brown eyes and for that moment everything is perfect in the world. The moment belongs to you, and nothing will ever take it from you. 

Eddie leans in to press a soft, slow kiss to your lips. He pulls away only far enough for you to fix your gazes on one another’s eyes again. His hip thrusts are becoming increasingly erratic, a sign that he’s nearing his finish. 

Curls sway back and forth around his face, like a curtain keeping you two separated from everything else. 

More than anything, you know what’s going to have you reaching your high is the locked stares you share. Eddie looks so intently into your eyes, as if he’ll find answers to all of his problems in them. It’s sexier than any words either of you could possibly vocalize. The look says so much more than your voices ever could. 

“I’m close,” you tell him in a rough whisper. Your fingers tighten on his and Eddie’s hips rock slightly harder into yours.

“Me too, baby.”

The urge to close your eyes floats over you as your impending orgasm gets closer by the second, but you refuse. Even blinking is too long to look away from the eyes of the man you love. Eddie agrees, never taking those brown beauties off of you as he feels his release closing in.

“Eddie,” you whimper, more just needing to say his name than anything else. “Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.”

“I know, my love.” 

“Gonna cum, Eds,” you slur.

“With me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out more than speak. 

All it takes is two more thrusts before Eddie’s spilling into you. Him coating your walls with his release is enough to have you falling headfirst into your euphoria as well. 

Both of you ride it out together, trying to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it that you could from one another. By the lazy smiles you give one another as you try and catch your breaths, you’d say that you both enjoyed it very much.

Eddie leans down and presses a sweet but sensuous kiss to your lips before begrudgingly pulling out of you. Neither of you like it, so you’re quick to cuddle up to one another, desperate to have your arms wrapped around the warm skin of his middle. 

“That was…wow,” you say after a few minutes of companionable silence. 

“Very wow,” Eddie agrees, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Y’know, there’s something else I’d like to add to that list, now that I have blood flowing to my brain.”

“Yeah?”

“Your heart,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Just when I think it can’t get any bigger or warmer, you prove me wrong time and time again. The kindness and generosity that you have is something I’ve never seen in another person. You’re so amazingly you and I’ve been enchanted by it since the day I met you.  Sometimes I feel like this is all a fairytale except the prince is the one constantly swept off his feet.”

“The princess is too,” you assure him through increasingly labored breath. “Very, very swept.”

Letting your suddenly heavy eyes slip closed, you tuck your head beneath Eddie’s chin and revel in his touch. A nap with you in his arms sounds like heaven right now, but Eddie knows there’s something he has to say before he forgets.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?” Your sleepy voice brings a smile to his face.

“Luke asked me to bring over McDonalds.”

“C’mon, let’s go hit the drive-thru.” 

You move to get up, but Eddie keeps you right where you are.

“Not yet. Naps first. Food for gremlins later.”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his bare chest. 

“Naps first,” you agree.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Chiori and Yae with a reader that tries to slack off all the time

characters: Chiori / Yae Miko x gn!reader (separate)

a/n: Chiori is such an asshole and I absolutely adore her. She’s like if they gave Stannis Baratheon hair and a second sword.

(I wrote this like... 2 months ago and finally finished it. A total henry move to write 90% of smth and then let it rot in my WIP folder for months, if you ask me.)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chiori

While the two of you matched when it came to radiating calm energy, the way they came out in quite contrasting ways. Where the Seamstress worked hard at following her passions, you were easygoing, where she was direct and brutally honest, you were charming and always said what the other party wanted to hear. Where she was Chiori, you were you.

So when you once again found yourself in her Boutique, chatting away with customers and somehow managing to make them spend more than they had planned, only to up and vanish from one moment to the next, Chiori couldn’t help but feel like she had an inkling of an idea to as were she would find you.

“What are you doing here?”, Chiori’s voice suddenly rang out, waking you from your slumber as you slowly looked up at her, your eyes still half closed and yet still managing to make out the vexed look on her face.

“I was taking a small break. Do you need me for something, Chiori?” you asked in a completely innocent tone, an unwavering smile plastered on your face as she stared you down before signaling to the once locked door.

“And where did you get the keys for the room?”

“They were in the door, so I let myself in. Oh- Was I not supposed to go here?” You realized with widened eyes, glancing between her and the door before shooting her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah no, don’t do that again. The next time you want to take a nap, do it at home”, came her response almost immediately.

Putting the whole “sneaking off and going into a locked room to take a nap away from people” situation aside, what annoyed Chiori even more was how impossible to read you were. If she was sure you were lying to her, she’d have thrown you out long ago. Were you really clueless enough to let yourself into a room or were you simply playing dumb? 

“Ugh. If you want to stand around and do nothing, come with me. I’m in need of a model right now.”

Yae Miko

While you were certainly far from being as lethargic as a certain ninja-girl loitering around the shrine every so often, you had your moments of supreme languidness. And while there were times she felt the urge to help you out by giving you a bit of motivation to get your day started, more often than not, Yae found herself amused by the lengths you took to go unnoticed by your superiors.

“Oh my, you look exhausted. You must have been working hard to get all of this paperwork finished. I do hope I’m not being a nuisance right now”, Yae observed as she entered the room, her voice both soft in nature while masking her mischievous intentions, letting herself into your office only to see you half-slumped over your desk with finished paperwork surrounding you.

That being said, Yae had no doubt it didn’t take you as long as your dramatic rendition of an exhausted warrior would suggest, considering the clever ways you found to make your work easier. So often had you inadvertently impressed her with your way of working that she wouldn’t put it past you to reinvent the wheel if it could shave off a few seconds from your work.

“No, I just now finished my work”, you were quick to soothe her worries, and yet by the way you rubbed your eyes awake, the Kitsune couldn’t help but doubt your words.

As expected, you had learned from your mistakes. The last time you were caught finishing early, you got a few sentences of praise and an extra load of work, the way your self-satisfied smile turned into one barely holding on as you tried to mask whatever emotions washed over you on the inside, being exactly the kind of subtle reactions she loved to watch people go through.

“You should know that you are truly a commendable employee. So, to reward you for your hard work, I should give you a promotion”, Yae spoke before shooting you a small smile as if to praise you, and yet by the time her words registered in your brain, your mouth was left hanging wide open.

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I can think of a dozen people more suited than me-”

“You’re selling yourself short. I’m confident you’re more than qualified for the position”, Yae quickly cut you off, her expression unchanging as she slowly turned around. “Or… Is it that you do not want more work?” She added as her smile grew wider, barely hiding her enjoyment anymore.

“No… thank you”, you responded with a meek sigh, realizing the futility of fighting it.

Once you’d take a closer look at your new privileges and responsibilities, you’d surely realize that she made sure most of your new workload wouldn’t take nearly as long as your current one if handled in an intelligent manner, and yet, when she saw your current reaction, a part of her found herself hoping you wouldn’t realize anytime soon.

By the time Yae reached the door however, she found herself halting in her tracks, quietly humming to herself as she seemed to think about something before finally turning to face you once again.

“I do suppose you did work well today. Take the rest of the day off.”

[novemberevenings]

somewhere between the stars | chapter 1

Azriel is your best friend. The best, most brilliant, and dearest friend you have ever known. It gets harder and harder to separate your platonic and romantic feelings for him.

A/N: first chapter of this series!!! honestly wanted to write my own rendition of an angsty, mutual pining fic w my azzy <3 anyways this first part isn’t the longest but i’m posting it to motivate myself to write the next part!! (btw italics indicate a flash back!)

The night sky seems peaceful tonight, almost as if it were at ease. A chill night breeze brushes past, swirling in the soft grass in greeting. The branches of a nearby tree sway, the only sound being the soft caress of leaves. Lying with your head laid back against the grass, eyes closed in a mix of exhaustion and ecstasy. 

At the feel of a soft, scarred hand brushing against your own, you open your eyes and tilt your head to the side. You’re greeted with a familiar and comforting sight. Your best friend's questioning gaze and furrowed brows make you quietly ask, “What's going on in that head of yours?” 

It’s a phrase that you both have claimed as yours. When either of you needs to be dragged out of your thoughts, the other won’t hesitate to ask to ground you back to the present. 

He’s quiet for a moment, trying to find the words that are jumbled up in his head. He turns to look at the sky once again before asking, “Do you think they’re watching us?” 

“Who?” His question puzzles you, not quite understanding where it's coming from. 

“The stars, the moon. I dunno, maybe the entire sky.” You’re used to his weird questions. It’s become a thing that you’ve got going on between the two of you. “If they are, I hope they don’t snitch on us.” 

This earns you a light chuckle, his head slightly shaking from laughter. Realistically, the sight of two younglings watching the stars at night shouldn’t be a problem. But for a boy who has to wake up for training early in the morning and a girl who has to continue with her apprenticeship, they could get punished for being out this late at night. 

“I like to think that they are. Watching over us, I mean.” 

“Az, that’s kinda really creepy.” 

He laughs indignantly, lightly shoving at your shoulder. It’s silent again, but you can tell he wants to say more, so you wait. “There’s just… so much out there, you know? It’s so big, and there’s so much we don’t know. I like thinking that, somewhere out there, someone’s looking out for us.” 

You take a second to just marvel at the way he thinks. A sudden feeling of gratitude and pride washes over you at being one of the few people who gets to see this side of him. The side of him that’s bright and curious, hopeful. 

You turn your head back towards the sky, looking at the stars and the empty spaces between them. Your best friend’s words are still in your head, trying to form an answer. 

When you look back at him, you find his gaze already on you. He looks at you just like how he looks at the night sky, with reverence and utter devotion. It compels you to reply, “Well, regardless of who’s out there, I’ll always look out for you.” 

He gives you a soft smile, the one that you’ve come to treasure and look forward to. “I’ll always look out for you, too.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tucked into a corner in the library at the House of Wind, your eyes roam over the page you’re reading. You were catching up on some old texts, brushing up on your knowledge of some spells. As the sorceress of the Inner Court, you always wanted to ensure you could protect your family. 

A clock nearby chimes, and you poke your head out to check the time. It was almost time for dinner, but you still wanted to finish the chapter you were reading. Going back to your book, it wasn’t long until the doors to the library slammed open, surprising a couple of priestesses nearby, an arrogant General waltzing in looking to find you. 

“You know, Cass, they expect silence in a library.” Closing the book with a resounding snap, you stand up from the cozy armchair you’d been sitting in, returning the book to its rightful place on a nearby shelf. “Lovely to see you too, my dearest Y/N.” 

You half-heartedly roll your eyes at him but take the arm he’s offering as he leads you out of the library. The two of you exchange stories of the day, Cassian recounting training with the Valkyries that morning. You listen to him intently, but you stop in your tracks when he says, “Az is coming home tonight.”  

“He is?” Your eyes widen as relief washes over you, not realizing how worried and tense you have been throughout the past week since Azriel was gone on a mission. 

“Yeah, sent Rhys a message ‘bout an hour ago.” 

At your look of shock and surprise, Cassian follows up with, “He didn’t tell you?” 

You softly shake your head, dismissing him. “I’m sure he was just really busy with work. It’s fine, Cass. Nothing to worry about.” 

Your soft, encouraging smile did nothing to ease Cassian’s worry, but he didn’t push on the subject. 

There had been this rift growing between you and Az. Both of you had been quite busy with your duties, Az especially. But you can’t help but feel there’s something else that’s causing this, and you hate it. Your friendship with him is one of the best things in your life, and the idea of losing him was… devastating. You don’t think you would be able to survive it. 

But you plan on fixing it as soon as he gets back. A simple conversation will fix this, you’re sure. 

“Alright, come on then.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was a calm night in the House of Wind. Everyone had gathered for weekly family dinner, and all was well. Everyone except for Azriel, that is. 

To say you were tense and anxious would be an understatement. Even a blind man could see just how worried you were. While everyone else was lounging in their seats and sipping their glasses of wine, you sat with your back straight, hands fiddling with each other nervously. 

“Loosen up a little, Y/N! Cauldron, you look like someone just killed your puppy.” You roll your eyes at Cassian’s teasing. Sometimes, you worry your eyes would be stuck at the back of your head whenever you’re with him. 

“Oh, give her a break, Cass. We all know why she’s acting this way.” Mor says, trying to lighten your mood. 

And it’s true. Everyone gathered around you knows exactly why you were so tense and worried. Despite Azriel sending you a message that he would be back tonight, your worry would not disappear until you saw him with your own two eyes, safe and unharmed. 

It was no secret to anyone how close the two of you were. Best friends ever since you met each other in Windhaven. Your friendship was one of the constants in your life, forever a source of comfort. He was your closest confidant, the shoulder you could always lean on, the first person you celebrate the good news with, and the first person to wipe your tears away when you cry. 

He wasn’t just your best friend. He was… your best everything. 

You tried your best to enjoy the night, joking with your family and catching up on each other’s day. Although your worry wasn’t completely gone, the presence of your family always put you at ease, love pouring through every interaction. 

“As I was saying, wing-warmers should totally be a thing. You don’t know just how much the cold affects our wings. I feel like an oversized icicle flying around the–”

Cassian stops mid-rant as a figure appears in the doorway. Everyone follows his line of sight at his silence, your head quickly snapping towards the doorway. 

And just like that, a week’s worth of worry and anxiety melts from your body. The sight of Azriel in his leathers, all seven siphons gleaming, is one you’ve longed for. 

“Az,” you sigh softly in relief. 

“Hi,” he replies. That soft smile you think is reserved just for you spreads across his face, eyes crinkling a little at the edges. 

That one word was all it took for you to fly out of your seat, running towards him at full speed. He catches you, bringing you into his warm embrace immediately. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms as tight as you can around his neck. In response, Azriel buries his nose into your hair, tightening his grip around your waist. 

You pull back slightly, your arms holding his shoulders so you can better scan his body for any injuries. 

At the worry in your face, Azriel asks, “What’s going on in that head of yours?” 

You notice his attempt to lighten your mood and snark right back at him. “Nothing, just thinking about how much you stink.”

He lets out a chuckle, and you can feel his chest vibrate from your proximity. “And here I thought you missed me.” 

You stay in his embrace for a little longer, feeling grateful that he’s returned unharmed, and take a moment to just look at him, reminding yourself that he’s back. A cough sounds from somewhere behind you. “Hello? Care to share him with the rest of us?” 

Rhys’ impatient yet teasing tone makes you and Azriel laugh, pulling apart to let the other members of your family greet him. 

You stand back, watching him embrace everyone else. Finally, you feel settled, like a part of you was missing, and now you’re whole again. You try your best not to think too much about what that might mean, wanting just to enjoy the fact that your best friend is back.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[igotyupls]

Big Score

WC: 1100? Anyway, took this from my previously written wattpad book, took that down, cause Jesus looking back my writing was horrendous, so is this, just a little proofreading but it still is shit, only posting this cause I feel bad lmao, I just need like a few hundred words to finish the two actual stories I was going to post but I can’t move my right arm without feeling like my sides on fire so anyway, at the time of writing this like in 2021, I replayed gta5 for the nth time so this is based off of that just a shittier, lamer, bs rendition lol

"Ready?" Y/N asked his partner Trevor as they sat in the getaway-car waiting for the right time to rob the bank.

"Oh fuck yeah I am" Trevor replied to Y/N in his equally "excited" voice.

"Our big score huh” Y/N emphasized , putting on his mask while T does the same, and jumping out and making their way into the bank,

Opening the door, and rubbing inside inside as T took down the security guard hitting him in the back of the head. While Y/N jumped over the counter,

"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU GET BACK FROM THE COUNTER AND ON YOUR KNEES" He yelled, waving his M762 at the few workers In front of him.

Luckily , they listened scared shitless for their lives as Y/N took their phones in tandem with T, who’s taking the phones from the customers, once done,

"Bank manager, Get the hell up!" Y/N barked, and after a few seconds a man in his late 50's got to his feet.

"Not you!" Y/N said shoving the man back on the floor, and pointing towards a woman, "Her" he says, staring dead straight at the actual bank manager.

"EVERYONE GO TO THE FUCKING FRONT!" Y/N yells, making the rest of the workers go around to join the customers, quivering on the marble floor,

While he drags the manager unceremoniously towards the vault, as Trevor deals with the rest, keeping an eye on them

"When is the time lock going to be released ?" Y/N asks her, even though he knows when,

"At around 9 a clock" the manager blurt out shuttering through her sentence.

"Don't lie to me, it's gonna be released at 08:30, I fucking know that shit!" He says shaking her with one hand as he grits his teeth, eyes steely behind his mask, before gruffly letting out a breath

"Listen, I won't hurt you, but that dude over there ," Y/N says as calmly as he can while pointing at Trevor, who's taunting the others with his gun, like a mad man if not a pure lunatic,

"I can't say the same thing for him, so don't get yourself killed for somebody else's cash" He says patronizingly shaking her shoulder, while watching the clock, only 15 seconds left on it, "Alright, open it" He tells her once the clock reaches 08:30.

She shakes, both from the fear and the adrenaline raving inside her body but she gets it open and then gets dragged inside with Y/N while he starts shoving cash in his bag,

Once the bag's filled to the brim, Y/N leads the manager back to the front where everyone else is,

That's when he sees T talking to a female customer and harassing her, scoffing in frustration, Y/N pulls him back,

"You're supposed to be looting the drawers, you horny fuck!" He says bewildered to say the least,

Making Trevor wave his hand dismissively, blabbering a lame excuse "I already did, fucking hell, I'm just having a little fun." Smirking a little, "I'm thinking I might take her with us-" he says, only to get shutdown,

"That's not happening, T" Y/N says pretty straightforward..

But of course; Trevor doesn't get simplicity, "This is the big score and I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want" he says before pushing Y/N, almost making him drop his loaded bag, while he saunters to the woman, "Come here girly"

*THUNK* he falls short however as Y/N, smacks him with the back of his M7 knocking him into oblivion, followed by a thud as the heavy bag of loot falls from Trevor's shoulder,

"You fucking idiot, T" Y/N mutters, kicking Trevor's unconscious body, before checking his watch, no time to waste but he needs that second loot bag,

"Ay, you" He calls back pointing to a brunette woman, kneeling in the corner with the rest of the customers, "What's your name?"

"Lisa" The said brunette says back, astonishingly less afraid than the rest,

Y/N nods, "Okay Lisa. You are going to pick up my friend's bag and come with me" He says kicking the bag, making it skid to Lisa,

"no, she won't " some wannabe macho-man suddenly yells as he gets to his feet and stands in front of Lisa, angering the already fiery rage in Y/N,

"don't be a hero today, you'll get killed" He says deathly calm, hand already on his trigger, he didn’t come in thinking he’d kill, but now he doesn’t care,

But people do say, women are smarter than men, as Lisa inches closer,

“I'll come, just-, don't hurt the others " she says shakily, but it seems fake as she brushes past the so called blubbering hero and hurls up T's bag.

Y/N pulls her in front of him, using her as a human shield,

"Dont any of you dare follow us, otherwise you'll also be on the ground like him" Y/N says pointing towards T, while he kicks him again for good measure,

Getting out of the bank while making sure Lisa was in front of him, he rushed to the getaway car, shoving her quickly in the passenger side and tossing the loots in the back, he runs to the driver's side, driving away as quickly as he possibly can.

Speeding out of the city fast, at a constant speed and the constant feel of the silence around him and the dewy brown eyes on him,

Y/N finally stops the car inside one of the tunnel entrances under a random bridge, “Yes?" He says quirking one eyebrow, but of course she doesn’t answer so he takes off his mask, throwing it carelessly wherever,

"T had it coming, okay?" He says shrugging while faux jutting his bottom lip,

"Yeah, I guess so, but I didn't think you would knock him out , like actually, Y/n" she finally says, with a chuckle, and a shake of her head,

“Meh” is all Y/N says shrugging, seeming almost childish and not the big; bad robber from just minutes ago,

They stare at each other for a few more seconds before breaking into smiles, "we get extra money this time huh?" she speaks up again,

Y/N nods with a cheeky smile, pulling her into his chest and pecking her temple, “Mhm” he answers lazily while hugging her, as police cars zoom past the tunnel entrance sirens blaring,

But Lisa just hugs his arm, not even flinching, “I love you" is all she says snuggling closer

a/n: yikes man, what was middle schooler me thinking, this is deffo getting removed once I start posting “sophisticated” one shots lmao🥲

[sosa2imagines]

Hey I just got my wisdom teeth removed so I’m wondering if you can write a fic where Sebastian Stan’s and Chris Evans’s characters takes care of reader after they got their wisdom teeth removed please 😊

Hey, I hope you are doing well, please take care. Also thank you for this ask, I had lots of fun writing this.

Warnings- only fluff. ___________________

Sebastian Stan.

Bucky Barnes-

Bucky loves you and he was trying for you. It made him sad to see you this way, curled up on his couch, your eyes squeezed shut as you whine every now and then.

Bucky will panic and be worried at the same time. He would hold a cold compress on your face, help you to stay hydrated.

Every now and then he would ask, “Uh… do you want cold water?” “How about a cold juice?”, “ice cream is good, I brought your favorite flavor.” He’ll make sure to follow the instructions given by the dentist, to ease your pain.

Even in pain and swollen face, he thinks you're absolutely adorable.

You want his cool metal palm on you? It is all yours.

Oh, you are hungry? Even though he can’t cook, he will try his best, to make a soup for you. Bucky will go to the kitchen, a bit panicked and not sure what to do. He had never taken care of someone before, so this was all new to him. But you are not just someone, you are his doll.

He’ll do anything for you.

Nick Fowler-

Let’s say before the procedure even begin, Nick had warned the dentist, to go easy on you, to make it as painless as possible.

The dentist had told you; you did feel “little” pain. Nick was okay with that; you can deal with “little” pain. So why the hell are there tears in your eyes, because of the pain? Yup the dentist can kiss goodbye to their life job for lying.

Nick will not let you leave the bed. You will just relax and chill in the air-conditioned room. Everything will be at your service. From cold water to cold juices and ice creams.

There’s a min freezer in the room, full of cold- compression just for you.

You have a project to complete? Nope, not happening. You are just going to rest. The project can wait. Or the person who want’s the project done, can wait or say good bye to life it.

Lee Bodecker-

Lee just can’t stand, to see you in pain. He may not be good in taking care, but that does not mean, he won’t try.

He won’t eat sweets. If you can’t have them, he won’t have them either. You can only have soup? He’ll have soup too.

Before going out to work, he will remind you, to rest and take the pain killers, if absolute necessary.

But let’s face it. Looking after the town and the upcoming elections, he is tired. He has needs. The stress is making him crave something sweet.

So, he’ll come up with the best solution. He’ll go down on you. It’s a win-win situation for you two. He gets his dose of sweet, from eating you and you get the best distraction from the pain.

Chris Evans.

Steve Rogers-

Steve will instantly become the mother hen. Concern face on. Every fifteen minutes, he’ll ask “Hey, how are you feeling?”

He will gently examine your face, his fingers probing the swollen areas with a tender touch. “You're going to be okay, I'm here for you.” he says reassuringly.

He proceeds to pamper you with ice cream, painkillers, and a constant supply of cold compresses, even singing a soft rendition of ‘Star-Spangled Man with a Plan’ to distract you, from the discomfort. Even though he hates it. But for you, he’ll do anything. (Even take a break from avenging.)

Lloyd Hansen-

Let’s just say the dentist was bit hesitant, to treat you. Lloyd was sitting in the room, with pilers, just to make sure, you are having a painless treatment.

Back at the fortress of solitude, he has given everyone a strict order, to be quiet. No noise. Noise is ban. His sugar had a painful treatment and he’ll make sure you get to rest, without any disturbance.

He will lie down on the bed, next to you, letting you rest your head on his firm chest. Making you feel comfortable and safe. He gently caresses your hair, proud of himself, to see you are sleeping peacefully.

But someone makes a noise, waking you up. You whimper, because of the pain. He quickly gives you painkillers, kissing your forehead. He will find out who made the noise.

Lloyd removes that person’s tooth and makes the person wear headphones. Heavy metal playing in them. Let’s see how that person likes, getting disturb.

Lloyd, has filled the bedroom with magazines and books you like. Netflix ready to play. He has called in the best chefs, to make different types of delicious soups and ice-cream for you.

He will even let you play with his moustache.

Andy Barber-

As a district attorney, Andy is used to dealing with tough cases, but seeing you in pain, brings out his protective instincts. He proceeds to pamper you with ice cream, painkillers, cold compresses, music and even offering to make you a warm bath to relax.

As you two spend the day together, Andy tells you, stories of his courtroom victories and the latest town gossip, making you laugh despite your discomfort. He's determined to take your mind off the pain and make you feel loved and cared for.

Andy will keep on whispering, “You're doing great, love. Just remember, no strenuous activities for a while, okay?”

In the process of distracting you, he’ll end up distracting himself and you won’t even realize, when he started to do…..ahem

[strangersteddierthings]

Fic Masterpost

General Fic Tag Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here. Reference post for Steve's BMW

Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Final Part

What's Eight Plus Seven? - On Going - [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

The Interview - Completed [Ao3] The Interview (Part One) The Response (Part Two) The Conversation (Part Three) Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]

No Regrets - On Going Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Good People - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going Part One

Envy, Baby. Written for Rustypeoplekillz for the Steddie Summer Exchange 2024. Eddie makes a new friend and Steve spirals about it.

Steve and Robin talk about how Steve wants to be romanced, instead of always doing the romancing.

Eddie's over dramatic, Steve talks him down, and they're okay in the end :)

Steve reflects on how other people make the decisions in his life and decides, y'know what? No. Fuck that and fuck you.

Beg You to Love Me - Steve and Eddie talk for the first time two and a half years after they break up. [Ao3]

Steve pines for Eddie and carves a pumpkin for the first time. He is completely normal about both things. [Ao3]

Eddie left, and has to face the consequences of that

Steve has great parents and goes to therapy. Too bad he forgot to tell his friends that [Ao3]

Middle School Meet Cute? [Ao3]

One sentence and one phone call are all it takes for Steve to realize he needs to go after what he wants [Ao3]

Steve's sad, Eddie's an (accidentally on-purpose) jerk, and the miscommunication gets solved? [Ao3]

Steve gets Vecna'd and a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody saves him

Angsty Ella Enchanted AU

Steve finds it funny, the differences between him and Eddie.

#81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” [Ao3]

#23. “Just pretend to be my date.” and #60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” [Ao3]

#60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." [Ao3]

#13. "I dare you to kiss me"

Requested by Anon - Eddie catches Billy throwing Steve around in the locker room; it leads to an unintentional deescalation of the situation and a conversation Eddie's surprised to have. [Ao3]

Steddie Week 2023: Day 1: Pining [Ao3]

Anon Prompt - Robin brags about her boyfriend to Steve. He's a little jealous, because he wants to brag about his own boyfriend but doesn't know if Robin is safe to tell that too. Until, whoops, turns out Robin's BF and Steve's BF are the same boyfriend. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Eddie doesn't understand, and tries to reassure Steve. [Ao3]

Eddie's friends try to prove Steve's cheating on him. Eddie doesn't take kindly to them trying to ruin his relationship for no reason.

Plot Idea I’ll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it’ll never let me know peace again. It’s basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick.

Steve-focused ficlet exploring the idea of Steve becoming a Mean Girl because he learned his tactics from Carol Perkins rather than Tommy, and how he regrets the results of that.

Domestic Bliss fluff fic that ends in a loving blow job. Minors DNI. [Ao3]

Childhood Best Friends AU where Steve and Eddie agree to learn the elvish script from The Hobbit so they can pass notes and no one can read them. Things get a little messy when Eddie moves away with no notice but Steve takes it upon himself to learn Elvish anyway. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't think before he all but crawls seductively into Eddie's lap accidentally. There's also not much thinking once he realizes what he's done, or in the aftermath of it. [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred.

The Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are cousins AU gets sad (Sad AU Part 1).

Steve realizes he's the only adult left In The Know in Hawkins; Gareth wants answers, one way or another (Sad AU Part 2).

Steve doesn't attend a funeral; Gareth goes with Jason&Co to Reefer Ricks (Sad AU Part 3).

The gang arrives at Skull Rock and Steve learns Gareth's now involved. Robin learns the truth (Sad AU Part 4).

Vecna gives Steve the vision and forces him to make a choice (Sad AU Part 5).

Everyone learns they are cousins now and it goes well. Gareth makes his own plan to save the day. (Sad AU Part 6).

Wayne joins the fight and Gareth ensures that Max gets saved (Sad AU Part 7).

The cousins reconcile. Max and Steve don't (yet). It's as happy an end as a Sad AU can get (Sad AU Final Part).

Time Travel Fix It Fic

Class of '85 [Ao3]

Save Max [Ao3]

September Prompts 2023

Coffee Smell ○ Horizon ○ Foggy Mornings ○ Jukebox ○ "Kiss me or leave me" ○ "Did you lie to me?" ○ Bonfire ○ Recipe Book ○ Gas Station

[bloomingdog]

Acolyte

word count: 2.7k a/n: hii i'm going through a depressive episode and this is my fic about soap with a depressed reader cos he's my babygirl. might expand on them idk i love soap i wanna keep writing for him

Johnny is a friend of Kyle’s, and Kyle is a friend of Farah, who is your friend. And Johnny, or Soap, is here because Kyle invited him since he had “nothing better to do”. And it’s alright, he’s fun and a little loud, he talks over people but always apologises. You were a little nervous to meet him, having been promised a get-together with people you were already well-acquaintances with, but the tears in your eyes, from laughing, that is, dismiss all previous nerves.

“And then he-” He’s cut off by his own wheeze, it’s been going for a couple of minutes; him and Kyle trying to retell a story about their captain, but they keep getting interrupted by their own laughter. You don’t think it’s that funny, if anything their reactions are the thing that make you all go into hysterics. It’s hard to feel sorry for all the other patrons. 

You feel drunker than you really are, save for Farah, you only had two to three beers each. It’s the kind of silly drunkenness induced by being with friends. The forgotten UNO cards on top of the table shake as Johnny’s fist hits the table trying to catch his breath.

And the pub’s playlist keeps playing every top #1 hit from the last 20 years. And at some point you’re all performing a rendition of smash hit “500 miles”. And you’re getting giggly with sleep. And Farah’s driving you home. And she’s asking you about Johnny, which makes you giggly all over. And she’s telling you he’s single. 

And then it’s morning. And there’s a message from an unknown phone number.

“Hey. This is Johnny. 

Just wanted to let you know I had a blast last night, loved meeting you :-)” 

It makes you smile trying to figure out what to write back. Why is it so hard to sound nonchalant while also a little interested in getting to know him? 

“So did I!

Haven’t laughed that hard in a while lol”

That’s cool, right? It’s half a good response at the very least, since you get a response back.

“Wanna meet sometime?”

Oh, that’s good. At best, you get a little attention and maybe a lay, at worst you get a new friend. You keep texting throughout the day, you two fit like a puzzle piece: talkative, extroverted and active. He sends you a picture of a squirrel he saw earlier on his morning run, you send him a picture of your cat back with the caption “my asshole son” to which he replies “don’t be mean to him”. Those little interactions keep getting exchanged. On Monday, you send him a fun fact about a shark that had a virgin birth. Tuesday, he’s telling you about his fear of dogs. Wednesday is the perfect occasion for a picture of your cat, Gus, sleeping in a funny position. Thursday, your phone pings with a string of texts ranting about Glasgow City. Friday you’re texting Johnny that you’re at the restaurant you’re meeting at, a hole-in-the-wall that mastered the art of oily food and crispy chips, he replies he’s running late.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait.” Is out of his mouth before any greeting. “Are ye hungry?” It’s more a conversation starter than an actual question.

“It’s okay! No worries.” You’re just happy to be hanging out, not bothered by his tardiness. 

The two of you sit and chat, you learn he has a tattoo of a revolver but won’t say where. He laughs at the face you make while imagining where it would be. “Don’t be dirty!” He chastises, it’s within the law that you steal one of his chips as payment for the teasing. You ask where does Soap come from.

“A’m good at cleaning.” It’s a short answer that explains enough, you’re not keen on pushing the topic any further. Luckily, he changes the topic rather quickly, it looks like he’s not a big fan of silences. “Tell me aboot Gus. How’d you get him?” 

“A colleague’s cat had kittens, she was trying to find them homes, Gus was the only one left, runt of the litter you know?” He nods, listening, interested in what you have to say. “Kept pushing and showing me pictures of the guy until I caved. When I took him home he wouldn’t stop screaming, I think he might be part siamese, they’re really vocal. So, he kept me up all night, I thought he was sick or something, I even took him to the emergency vet, turns out he’s just a dickhead.” He smiles at the insult. “A very cute one, though.” You add, it’s hard not to love him even if he wakes you up at 6 a.m. on the dot.

 “Can I meet him someday?” he might if you’re lucky enough.

You might as well thank every saint, divinity, and omnipotent being for your luck tonight. He accompanies you home, only because “he’s a gentleman”, according to him. The kind of gentleman that kisses you dizzy and gets invited into your flat.

You text Farah about the events of the evening before falling asleep, it’s not kiss and tell if she’s your best friend. And in the early morning you’re both woken up by an angry Gus, whose side of the bed has been stolen by a guy that almost doesn’t fit in it. You’re cuddled on his side, one leg over his.

“Gus-Gus….” It’s a groggy mumble of displeasure, you know he only wants to be beside you, but the hour doesn’t help your mood. Still, you move away from Johnny so he can jump onto your chest for cuddles.

“He does skirl alright.” That morning voice might actually be the death of you.

“Told you. He’s an asshole.” A breathy laugh makes his bare chest move as he turns to face you.

“He’s real cute though.”

“Are you not tired?” The early morning light peeks through your window, the sun isn’t even out yet and you can’t imagine anyone that is appreciative of being woken up so early.

“Naw, no’ really. ‘M used to it.” 

It feels weird, good weird, to have him in your bed like that. Barely a week since you met, and he feels so close, more like a friend than a one-night stand, more than a friends-with-benefits. He checks the time on his phone before speaking again.

“Ye want breakfast?” Your eyes are closed again, hugging Gus close to your chest, hand moving up and down his fur but not doing much to pet him. His call of your name is answered by a groan, it makes him chuckle. He scoots closer to you, you can feel his arm coming up for Gus to sniff and the cat readjusts himself so his head is closer to Johnny’s. “Hi”.

Oh but the warmth dissipating from his body is to much, that and the soft noise of Gus’ purr drives you to fall asleep again. You only half dream, a mixture of images that won’t make any sense once you’re awake again, which happens rather soon as the bed adjusts and you feel a hand run through your hair. 

“Can I make tea?” His voice sounds softer than earlier, you nod, opening your eyes just a smidge to look up at him.

“Biscuits in the cupboard…”That’s as much as you can muster now. “Wake me up when it's done?”

“Course.” 

He left with Gus following behind, but you can’t seem to fall asleep again. That was…rather intimate. Your stomach feels hot and your chest tighter. Shooting your eyes open you’re quick to grab your phone again, Farah replied an hour ago.

“Wooo! Good for you”

“You’re gonna have to tell me everything about it btw”

“Farah”

“How pathetic is it to have a crush on your one night stand?”

Oh you don’t like that, calling him a one night stand, feels too impersonal, rude almost.

You’re getting out of bed, into your restroom and to the kitchen. 

“Good morning” He leans against the kitchen counter where your meds are,he’s looking at his phone waiting for the kettle to boil, clad in his boxers from last night, hair a mess and body soft under the morning light. Even though it’s the same body it feels so different from last night, scars, bigger and small, litter his body, it’s muscular and soft at the same time, big pecs a tad too inviting and a tattoo on his forearm. Reaching for the pills would mean standing next to him, probably brushing against—no, touching him, and that makes you nervous. Oh. You’re embarrassingly down bad. 

He stayed the entire weekend, Friday through Sunday. Next week it was picnic and football. You’re convinced any major team would be jealous of your 1-person teams and 5 meter field. He’s good, but you’re full of fear as he chases you for the ball, it’s the predator-prey kinda adrenaline that makes you score. 

“Yes!” 

“Offside! Offside!”

“What do you mean offside? There’s no one I can pass the ball to!” In fact, there’s not even a goal. You grab the ball and go back to him, looking straight into his eyes in fake defiance. 

“Talking back to the referee? That’s a red card.” He looks so handsome like this, standing tall and unmovable, even if only joking, and you let him know via a quick kiss to his lips. He’s pulling you back to his lips not even half a second after, deep and slow, giggly. “Bribin’ me, huh?” You let out a soft, happy, sigh and kiss him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You tell Farah everything over a cup of tea and a piece of cake, of course. And she laughs at you, not in a mean way at all, only friendly and amused, still you hit her arm.

And the following week it’s film night. This one’s more spontaneous than the others, it’s been a tough week at work, you want a quiet evening and some company so you ask him if he wants to come hang out, he replies saying that he’ll be there in 30.

It’s the two of you, your favourite take out, Gus-Gus sitting on the back of the sofa and Fargo on the TV. He’s not paying as much attention to the film as he is to you.

“What?” You say, turning to look at him.

“Ye’r a beauty.” You smile shyly and kick him on the leg with your foot slightly. “A’m serious. I like you a lot.” A big smile grows on your face, and it’s enough confirmation for him to know you feel the same.

Or at least he thought so. There are no plans for this weekend, not for lack of trying, that is, Soap’s been trying to text you all week, it’s a big shift from your daily texting. He misses the little life updates you send him. Tuesday, he thought you might just be busy. Wednesday he stops trying to contact you, did he do something wrong? Went too fast? Are you ghosting him? What did he do that was worth the silent treatment? Thursday, he tries calling you, multiple times. Friday all rational thoughts have left his brain, did something happen to you? Are you okay? Christ, what if you’re dead? He texts Farah, swallowing his embarrassment.

“She’s okay, I think.”

“Going through a bit of a depression episode at the moment.”

“She’s going recluse, I know she wouldn’t mind a bit of help.”

“I have a spare key to her flat if you want to come get it.”

The string of texts floats around his mind, spare key in hand in front of your front door. He’s been inside before, but he was invited in, this feels invasive, but Farah trusted him, and she knew you best. He sent you a message before showing up, the last bit of chivalry he can offer before showing up in your home, it went through, and he hoped you read it even if you didn’t reply. 

He calls your name upon entering, no response. Gus comes running up to him to headbutt his legs and meow, a quick look lets him know his water bowl is clean and automatic feeder full, that’s a good sign. His voice trembles as he calls for you again. 

“You know where she is?” Great, now he’s speaking to the cat, and he meows in response, great, an actual conversation with a cat. Gus takes off and squeezes himself into a room with the door ajar, your bedroom. He knocks before entering, not expecting a response. The room is dark except for the light coming from your laptop, empty and half-full glasses taking up most of the space on your desk, chair full of unfolded clothes and a doughnut of blankets on the bed.

“Go away.” The doughnut speaks. His heart breaks at the sad, much softer than usual tone of your voice.

“Love.” The pet name slips from his lips, he notices but doesn’t attempt to correct himself. He walks closer until he’s sitting next to you. “Can I help you?” 

You shake your head no, or what’s visible of it. “Go away, I stink.” He chuckles.

“That’s fine, smell better than the lads in base.” It’s a pathetic attempt at humour, you still shake your head no.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You don’t sound sad or angry like he thought you might, it’s emotionless, almost like an automatic generated response.

“But I want to. Want tae tak’ care o ye” He wants to make everything better, wants to fix everything, wants you happy and energetic and smiling. It’s silly how much he cares for you after barely a month of knowing eachother, scary now that he’s admitting it out loud. He pulls down the blankets for a full view of your face, his hand goes to your hair, it’s tangled, he’s careful not to pull on it. “Am gunna run you a bath.” It’s not a question, you laugh slightly and he smiles, realising what he said. “Didny mean it like that, c’mon.” 

He helps you up from the bed and into the restroom. From your seat ion the toilet, you observe the way he turns on the tap and rummages through your cabinet, trying to find something to put in the water, you assume. “The orange bar in the back.” He halts, looks for a second and comes up with it, he leaves it on the sink while he turns off the water, you grab the bar and crumble a bit of it into the tub. He looks at you and gets up, you take it as your cue to undress and get in. Johnny comes back with a change of pyjamas and underwear and leaves again. You can hear him moving around and making noise, talking to the cat in occasion, while you clean yourself, when he comes back it’s to put your dirty laundry in the hamper. You don’t know why that’s the thing that makes you break and start crying. As soon as he notices, he’s on his knees next to you, softly caressing your cheeks and moving your damp hair away from your face.

“Whit’s wrong?” 

“I don’t want you to do this.” Is no reply to his question. “I don’t want you to have to do this.”

“M’eudail.” He starts. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” You look up at him” I’m so sad all the fucking time and I don’t want you to have to deal with that, it’s not fair to you, you know? I don’t want you to have to take care of me or put up with me.”

“But what if I want to? Wanna take care of you, wanna put up with you.” You shake your head no, looking back down.

“Johnny, I’m so much. I get so clingy and stupid.” 

“That’s fine by me.” There’s no deterring him. He lifts your head up by your chin to kiss your forehead, bright blue eyes staring at you. 

And you realise how ridiculous this is. You’re crying in the bathtub, your friend-situationship is on his knees next to you, again, crying in the bathtub. You let out a sigh and nod.

“Okay.” 

[demxters]

— 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!reader

summary: in which jake seresin is the only man lucky enough to get a taste of your sweetness.

wc: 1k

warning(s): f!reader

a/n: i haven’t been feeling the best and needed some comfort after a rough couple of days and decided to write this out of nowhere. i am a firm believer in the sunshine!jake seresin and grumpy!s/o trope so this is where that came from.

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was your person, your other half, your closest friend, and confidant. He understood you in a way that no one else did, and that was a shock all in itself because the two of you were nothing alike. Somehow, Jake had managed to wiggle his way into your heart.

You were quietly observing Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy who were gathered around Rooster in the near empty bar as he played Tiny Dancer on the piano. Coyote sat beside you, swaying to the music and belting out the lyrics. Noticing the crease between your brows and the slight pout of your lip, Coyote nudges you playfully in the ribs with his elbow.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest indignantly. “No,” you hissed for the umpteenth time that night as each of the Daggers attempted to get you to dance and sing along with them. They did it all in good fun knowing there was absolutely no way you were going to. Not even for a million bucks. Everyone had their things and this, along with a plethora of other things in life, just wasn’t yours.

The group’s attempts to get you to smile are a lost cause. They have been trying all night and weren’t able to pull so much of a small twitch of your lips from you. You were a tough one to crack and they have been trying to crack you for years.

There was only one person who could get you to cave and he had just entered the room.

“There you are,” the sound of Jake’s Texas twang resounds through The Hard Deck. Even in a crowd of thousands, you could pinpoint his voice.

He doesn’t miss the way you purposely avoid eye contact.

His words make the skin of your cheekbones and the tips of your ears erupt in flames as he makes his way through the sea of people and to the back of the room where you reside.

He sauntered over to stand beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders with an ever charming smile. “Good to see you too, Sunshine.”

The nickname once dubbed as a way to poke fun at your usual attitude had become a name of affection in your relationship with the man. You hated when he called you that, more so than when he called you sugar, sweets, or sweetheart. You believed you were the complete opposite.

You were cold. Never one to break out of your hardened facade. Yet there was something about Jake that made all of that go away.

Instead of pulling away from his touch, you snuggle into his warmth, burying your nose into the junction of his neck and shoulder. You feel Jake press a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you say, “You saw me three hours ago.”

“Three hours too long,” he groans.

You shove at him playfully as you bite your bottom lip. “Have you always been this needy?”

“Only for you, sweet thing.” Jake tilts your chin up slightly, sending you a wink that almost has you breaking your resolve. “So, what’s going on here?” He gestures to the drunken group of aviators who were now slurring along to a barely recognizable rendition of My Girl.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Drunken Karaoke,” you sigh.

His gaze lingers on his friends before going back to you. “You didn’t want to join them?”

“You know I don’t.” You huff against his skin and pull away from his hold with a frown. “It isn’t really my thing.”

Without a second thought, he drops his arm from around your shoulders with a grin. “Well it is mine, so if you don’t mind…” He starts to drift towards the group, causing you to whine.

“No, stay please,” you pout.

And how could he say no to you when you looked at him like that? Your wide eyes and cherubish features made him want to kiss you right then and there. But Jake was also a tease. There was no way he’d let you off the hook that easily. With a sly grin on his face, green eyes glistening under the yellow lights, he sighs. “I don’t know, Coyote and Fanboy look like they’re having a lot of fun out there. I might just have to join them.”

“Jake,” you whine.

He slowly walks backward with a hand to his chest, completely ignoring your outstretched hand.

You frown, adamantly shaking your head as you desperately try to silently tell him to come back.

“Jake,” you sigh softly.

The grin on his face grows and his heart swells at the feeling of being wanted. A feeling that only you could provide. The warm, genuine want in your gaze made him secede.

He makes his way back to you with a soft smile. Jake wraps his arms around your waist and you breathe him in, collapsing against his chest.

You hum contentedly and his own chuckles vibrate against your cheek.

“Who’s the needy one now, sweets?”

You huff. You can practically see the smug smirk on his face. “Shut up.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, pulling away slightly and tilting your chin up with his finger so you lock eyes with him. Jake presses a firm kiss against your lips and finally, the tension in your body fully relaxes.

This time you can’t stop the smile that pulls at your lips.

He leans back just enough to see your glowing smile. “There you are, sugar. Always so sweet just for me.”

“Oh please, we both know you’re the real sugar here,” you tease. “The absolute sweetest.”

The two of you, too wrapped up in your own little bubble, fail to notice you had an audience.

“Told you he could get her to smile,” Coyote grins at his friends with his arm crossed.

Rooster stares, bug eyed and in disbelief as he watches Jake animatedly telling you a story that makes giggle harder than he has ever seen before. He didn’t even think it was possible to make you laugh that hard. Though he will admit, you did seem to glow when Seresin was around. “Hangman, huh? Who would’ve thought?”

Payback scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Clearly everyone but you did. Now pay up, Bradshaw. You owe all of us twenty bucks.”

“Damn it! I am never betting against you guys again.”

add yourself to my taglist!

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[thumpypuppy]

Lindar here!

Thinking on a conversation I had with Sadie about the title theme of ISAT, and given a lot of folks have been transcribing music for the OST, I kinda want to briefly talk about something.

First I would like to say, the language we use for music theory is DEscriptive, not PREscriptive, and so it is important to keep that in mind. We try our best to describe what's happening!

One interesting conversation is around the title theme, and so I will say this: The first part written was the melody, which is strictly in D Dorian. This melody and it's various incarnations throughout the soundtrack exist with many different supporting chord structures that change on basically every iteration, but one unusual feature in its original iteration (the START AGAIN title theme) and modern original (In Stars and Time title theme) is that, despite being in D Dorian for the melody, the supporting chord structure features a rather prominent major five. To me it makes sense and adds some amount of resolution, where if it was ACTUALLY D Dorian it would feature a minor five, which didn't sound right. Does the piece shift between D Dorian and A minor? Is it a "harmonic Dorian" scale? WHO KNOWS! As much technical nonsense as I've put into the soundtrack (largely thanks to the ongoing theory lessons from the one and only Sadie Greyduck) at the end of the day we do what sounds best. It's an unusual modality, so maybe we can just call it "Thumpian Mode" and call it from there?

I've also seen some other interpretations of different pieces, and one that really stands out to me is how people perceive the rather drastic key change in, among other things, "We're With You!". While we could talk endlessly about this particular motion of chords, I'd like to bring up my actual thought process.

First off, listen to the first battle with the King ("Do You Remember?"), specifically the "victory/hope" motiff at the end that features a prominent brass section. The beginnings of that song as a whole were actually the first piece of music written for the original START AGAIN soundtrack, followed shortly thereafter by the melody for the title theme. While START AGAIN and the subsequent In Stars and Time do feature a heavy usage of leitmotifs (and yes the many identifiable motifs are specifically used to indicate an emotion or context, which are later recontextualized for dramatic effect), a number of them were written out of order and given additional meaning through clever placement. Further, transitioning from START AGAIN's 11 tracks to In Stars and Time's staggering 41 tracks, a significant amount of expansion of existing leitmotifs was done in addition to creating new ones.

Second, the actual thought process behind writing the hope/victory motif was something like "dang I need something to round this off… uhhh… screw it, arbitrary chromaticism because it sounds intense and metal" and so we go A5, C5, B5, Bb5, and the actual melodies used were vaguely navigated by ear kinda in the ballpark of A minor. Upon hearing this piece, Sadie explained to me that a common alternative to using a Dominant 5 is to use a tritone substitution of the five, which is a bII(7), which is why the progression (mostly) makes sense despite classic progressive motion saying i->III is valid but fairly weak, and III->ii is extremely weak.

Now we fast forward a year or two and I have been requested to make a chipper rendition of the victory/hope motif for a different context (which, in my opinion, adds to the weight of its later appearance), so now let's finally take a look at "We're With You!". While the time signature is quite different from its original 5/4, you'll notice that the chord progression is somewhat familiar (I -> iii -> ii -> bII), and while the leading melody is something else, the supporting voice(s) are a reiteration of the hope/victory motif!

Now we get to the unusual part, the key change! It's not particularly common to change keys to a tritone as they have essentially nothing in common, but we're using that bII as our return to tonic, so what if we reinterpret that chord as the V of a new key, since it's kinda functioning that way anyway? So instead of Bb returning to A as we've done before, we move to the new tonic of Eb! From there the piece essentially makes the same motions, and does the same key change at the end, returning us back to our original key in time for the piece to loop!

So I think at the end of the day what I'm trying to say is that music theory can definitely give you an understanding of why certain things sound certain ways, and it can teach you things that you would not have thought to do before, but the most correct way to write music is to do what sounds good and try to understand it later. Lindar from five years ago was afraid of key changes, but modern Lindar knows that keys are arbitrary and you can make unusual motion to interesting effect.

All that said, I absolutely love reading posts about how people interpret and analyze the things I've written, so keep it coming, because I learn something new every time I see a new interpretation!

[the-pink-quill]

Currently watching the final episode of 4 Minutes, and whoever is writing the dialogue (Sammon) needs an award .

Tongkla, being confronted by his side piece while the boyfriend who he himself has become a side piece for is right there:

"Yeah, I killed your brother. While we are at it, I also cheated on you while you were gone.(second line is almost word for word)."

Then immediately takes a bullet for Korn, not even knowingly, because in that split second it is just instinct to shield Korn... Korn, who ends his own life over Tongkla's body anyway, because after he has lost Tongkla and the dreams they once had, he has nothing more to live for.

To any BOC interns trawling through tumblr, please do a isekai/time travel season two where Korn gets to go back in time to college and fix his mistakes, especially the ones with Tongkla. Fanfic writwrs, if you're listening, please hear my prayers.

But really, I just really want Sammon's brand of Mafia husbands. Kinnporsche ended without a single scene with them as mafia husbands (and personally, I don't expect much from Porsche anyway) and Unforgotten Night didn't have Mafia husbands at all.

I just want a pair of morally bankrupt boys getting together in college and wrecking the underworld as men. I've read too many Kpop renditions of this story, now I wanna see it on screen.

[twwings]

Big Festivids Recs Post!

Last weekend was the big Festivids GoLive, which meant the release into the wild of 160 brand new small fandom vids (aka fanvids, edits, etc.) Right now the collection's anonymous, but tomorrow is vidder reveals, so I wanted to write up a recs post for some of my absolute favourites from this year's collection. If you know Yuletide, well, Festivids is like Yuletide, celebrating small/weird/underappreciated fandoms! It's an exchange fest, so people ask for the small fandom vids of their heart and, then, receive one.

Honestly the collection this year is SO high quality, you should really go and browse the works yourself in their entirety; there are so many vids that I absolutely loved that I didn't put on this recs list, because I was trying not to get carried away (and also trying to get it done). But just to get you started, here are a smattering of my favourites. I tried to represent a bunch of vid genres and source types here, but ultimately it's just my taste.

RECS RECS RECS!

Andor: Level Up

AHHHH this is a vid about Andor and fascism and collective action and One Way Out and it's so gorgeously done. Perfect song choice, perfect vid, makes me cry and I will rewatch it many times.

Andor: be ready and be brave

Focusing on Ferrix, its history, its people, and its revolution. Absolute chills. Also I'm SO happy whenever I get to watch a vid to a Mountain Goats song.

Mosquita y Mari: como siempre soñé

Such a sweet, soft, slow romance vid. I ACHED for these two. Like reading a 300k slowburn but in three and a half minutes.

Dropout TV: Nothing in my Head

The Dropout TV vid of my DREAAAAAMS! (largely Game Changer but with lots of stuff in there!)

Taskmaster UK: Blood in the Cut

UHHHH. IT'S AMAZING??? It's hot and raw and kinky and hardcore. the vidder has the delicate, precise touch of a bloody scalpel. Yes, this is a vid for Taskmaster, the UK show where comedians do silly tasks. Because yeah, it's that show, but it's also this show.

Slash/Back: Uja

This vidder KNOWS how to vid horror. The way this vid cuts the most terrible images to make them barely-there, more horrifying for being rough slaps against my consciousness . . . yikes. Amazing vidding, super cool and scary, while also maintaining the uplifting, kickass, hopeful tone you want from a collective-action horror movie.

Janelle Monae: I Like That

Glorious, joyful, sexy celebration of being a free-ass motherfucker.

Star Trek: Lower Decks: Hard Times

Boimler vid about how he's essentially a redshirt who is just slightly too sweet to actually die. Absolutely adorable and hilarious.

Woman King: Upside Down

Absolute BANGER of a vid, great cuts, great movement, great character arc and great Dahomey women being amazing.

Romeo + Juliet: Magnetic

We all agree Harold Perrineau is the best Mercutio, SO, with that in mind, here is a flawless celebration of the best Mercutio.

Knives Out/Glass Onion: 'Til You Hit a Nerve

Brilliant comparison vid putting Marta from the first film together with Helen and Andi from the second one, drawing out the similarities and dissimilarities in a visual feast and with a badass powerwalk. Nothing not to love!

David Cronenberg's Films: body

This one is phenomenal. It takes David Cronenberg's entire filmography and condenses it into a vid about all the sexualized body horror. It is deeply horny and deeply disturbing and deeply fascinated by every single finger going into a hole in a body that shouldn't be there. It's soft and tentative and it's very graphic and violent, all at once.

The Wheel of Time: Velodrome

Tower politics and circularity and being bound to one another in every good way and every bad way; what a beautiful vid. I love how this is about a place, and about how that place draws these people together over and over in their shared experience and love and trauma.

The Midnight Sky: The Laughing Heart

Absolutely gorgeous vid of the film to a spoken word + music rendition of Charles Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart" (there is a light somewhere). I have not seen this film but I found this vid deeply moving.

Moby Dick: Queequeg and I

There are four (FOUR!!!) Moby Dick vids at Festivids this year, and they are all amazing combinations of a huge smorgasboard of sources, I heartily recommend them all, but I'll specifically rec two. This one is Queequeg and Ishmael to "Wouldn't It Be Nice" and it is the sweetest queerest thing ever. Queequeg and Ishmael get a happy ending shhhhh they do shhhhh yes this is how it happened they came out of the water they're fine

Moby Dick: a vulture feeds upon the heart forever

This vid is a fucking masterpiece. It is a huge archival multisource Moby Dick vid that weaves all these incredibly different visual together to make a coherent, tragic narrative. And like. The BOOK is not a coherent narrative! This is such gorgeous and amazing fanwork. Don't miss out on it.

Women's 100m Sprinting: Didn't Come to Play

This is GORGEOUS, I don't know anything about sprinting but I know I love these beautiful joyful powerful women running really fast and hugging each other and being amazing. The editing on this is so tight; the vid never stops for a second. Like a sprint?!?!?!

The Golem and the Jinni: סיפור הגולם

This is another book vid, but since this book doesn't have any adaptations, it's using entirely archival source and probably some documentaries and films to construct the story - or, really, construct the vibe of the book, construct the metaphors of the book, and the result is beautiful and powerful and meditative. It's about survival, and making life.

Jesus Christ Superstar: Hope on Fire

This is another umbrella vid, where the vidder is taking a bunch of different productions of the play and mashing them together. This vid focuses on Judas and Jesus/Judas, and it all feels so inevitable and tragic and real and cruel. I really loved it.

Jordan Peele's Films: Goodbye, Honey, You Call That Gone

This is such a wonderful mashup of Jordan Peele's three films, exploring all the parallels and differences and just the rich tapestry of his imagery.

猎罪图鉴 | Under the Skin: Put It On Me

I don't know this source but this was just so gorgeously put together; there's a focus on art and art objects, on hands moving and creating, that's just mesmerizing.

[remimibanana]

A bit about Shattered!

I wrote a story about Robin and Sunday!

It's about what may have happened during their past, their present and what the reality during and after the never ending dream held for them.

You can find it here!

I wanted to write a bit about my thought process behind writing this, since I have a lot to say and it might interest some people! I also didn’t want to make my notes section way too long and make it hard to leave a comment or kudos.

All under the cut!

Conception

I started writing this story after 2.2 released, but I didn’t finish it until now. It took me so long but it’s finally here! 30k wasn't the amount I expecting but I am all for it.

It originally was meant to be a love letter to 2.2, but it soon became a love letter to Penacony as a whole since there’s spoilers for everything. I had to rewatch the quests often to make sure I didn’t mess up the lore.

I remember I spent a whole day on the 2.2 quest, a Thursday where I sat down on my phone reading through the dialogue and playing the game while wondering when it was going to actually end at one point.

It was way longer than I expected, but I cried by the end of it all while pacing around the kitchen like a crazy person. Seeing Robin jump for Sunday as he fell, I couldn’t help but tear up. It made me love Robin and Sunday way more than I did before!

It was an incredible quest. It was worth all the hours I poured into it, thanking everything that no one was home when I let out noises and screams like a maniac in the kitchen out of all places. I'm a very expressive person.

I also jumped like a maniac when Acheron said Mei, or Yayi since I play with the CN dub! I love Honkai Impact 3rd a lot, if you didn’t know. I mean, everyone knew beforehand but it felt super validating for it to be explicitly said.

I knew immediately that I had to write something for this wonderful story. I’m always inspired to write after a quest, especially one like this. Shaoji cooked with Penacony and he needs to come back and write more for Star Rail.

I had to write Robin and Sunday, because there was so much I could write regarding these two doomed siblings. I did alternating point of views with both of them, as I wanted to tell both their stories.

I also knew that I wanted angst to the max, especially after hearing what the heck Robin went through and the fact that the game barely touched on anything in her point of view. This is the same case with Sunday.

I’m sorry for the pain I have inflicted on you all! I will write a happy story at some point, I promise you. Then again, I've said this before and I still manage to write angst…

There wasn’t much planning for this, aside from a few things from the quest that I wanted to write into it and use…and yet it looks like I’ve meticulously planned it all out doesn’t it?

I amaze myself sometimes. I quite literally surprised myself actually at times, I made stuff connect and I didn’t mean to really. Is this what they call being a genius?

Let’s take it from the top!

The Past

The first thing I knew I wanted to write was how Robin was shot in the neck.

That sounds terrible, damn. I don’t know how else to word it, I’m sorry!

It was mentioned by Sunday so briefly, and then never brought up again by anyone which is insane to me like what do you mean that Robin was shot in the neck in a war she went into?!

We got to see how he was informed by the Dreammaster about it after showing Robin’s letter and how he was going to pack his bags immediately for Kasbelina-VIII but that was honestly it. This gave me the perfect base to write my rendition of how it all happened.

I structured this part by writing out two letters, the one that Robin sent to Sunday and one that Sunday would have written back if he received it first. I then wrote the actual happenings underneath each paragraph that contradict the letters.

My goal was to make this as interesting as I could since it’s the first thing you read in my story. I needed to hook you all in, and keep you wanting to read on until the end.

There is a lot of story building here, describing the conditions of Kasbelina-VIII and some of the messed up stuff that is happening there. It’s rather realistic, because I wanted it to be. If I was going to talk about a war, I would do so properly without downplaying anything.

I first found it strange that Sunday didn’t know about the war at all. I figured, wouldn’t a war be at least broadcasted by the largest government body, the IPC themselves?

That’s when the idea that the IPC was intentionally covering it all up came to me. It seemed like the most logical explanation, and a very interesting one that I could build upon.

Despite Robin’s letter being in her point of view, we see another being shown. The soldiers who she was staying with this whole time, their thoughts regarding the war and Robin herself.

I had to make a reason as to why she would be shot, because she had to be right in the middle of the battlefield for that to happen. If the IPC was covering everything up, they would also stop supporting the poor planet.

These poor soldiers she’s staying with had no new supplies delivered to for weeks, and yet they still gave what they had left to her, showing that there is still kindness in such a horrific situation.

Based of what I could see, Robin wouldn’t let them suffer like this when she learnt about the supply issue by what I assume was on accident generally. I wanted to give the soldiers some character, so I made them lie to her for her sake about how long they didn’t have supplies for.

We have a lot of lying mentioned in this story, since it’s the main premise for both Sunday and Robin. They both lied to each other for the other’s sake, thinking that it was the right thing to do. Lies after lies pile up, and we see what happened when they all came falling down.

I've never been shot before (god forbid) but I tried to imagine how it might have felt for Robin, the way it would make her feel. It did hurt to write this part, the way she still tried to deliver those supplies...the way she belittled herself for lying...

I wanted to make you all suffer, pretty much. That also sounds terrible.

Now, we go into Xipe and THEIR role. The Dreammaster mentioned how Harmony had blessed her by missing her vital arteries, so I made THEM interfere despite the fact THEY usually only observe and watch everything unfold.

THEY said that the bullet was not meant to hit her, but it still did for some reason that eluded them. This was such a major foreshadowing point that doesn't make much sense until later on, I am such a genius for this!

The same case when it is mentioned that someone could try to calculate their reasonings by forsaking their humanity, I was intentionally foreshadowing what Sunday does later on when he tried to.

You seriously would think I planned all this but it sort of came out this way.

Sunday's letter on the other hand, is much more of a character study of himself if anything. I wanted to explore how he would feel about all this, the way he would handle such a situation of his beloved sister being shot.

We know that Sunday uses puppets, but it's never stated why or how he had them in the first place. We can also see how he can manipulate them, making them act out scenes and characters during the time when we are stuck running through those Memory Zones before his boss fight, which I took and built upon the idea.

Sunday is a very complex character, so I made him a little mentally unstable when concerning his sister. The way he lashed out at his puppets, destroying them all over and over while making up scenarios of her shooting in order to cope. He even thinks that a puppet is Robin for a second.

If this is out of character or not, I don’t know. I wanted to give him more character than we see in the actual story, and naturally my thoughts went to this. It is mentioned how much he loves Robin (as a sister obviously), and so I wanted to see how far he would go for his only family left.

I took the concept of Harmony and expanded on it. We can see that Harmony can alter the mind's state, so why not make it so they can control others by altering their thoughts? I often like adding additional powers for the plot that still make sense in the realm of the game.

For Robin, it was mostly subconsciously done. For Sunday, he does it intentionally for his own reasons. Both use Harmony to alter minds without asking if the intended victim wanted it, making them both in the wrong.

We have these whispers present, the choir above that Sunday can hear because of how attuned he is to Harmony, alongside Robin that he rejects often. I don't think this is a thing in game, but I thought it would make everything so much more intriguing!

His distrust in Harmony grows and the rejection started from the first seed of doubt planted by Mr Gopher Wood. I imagine that his manipulation started young, slowly introducing the disharmony into Sunday's ideals.

This whole section quite literally foreshadows the rest of the story, it's great.

The Present

The major part of this story is when Robin is in Sunday's consciousness.

We have no idea what happened to her there, only that they were “put” to sleep. In Ena’s Dream, apparently it is called Tuning that she went through alongside Welt Yang by Sunday, who mentioned that nothing too bad happened to him there.

Then again, apparently it was Jing Yuan who saved Welt from Sunday’s subconscious???? I don’t really know how that works but point is, I had a lot of playing ground for what happens to Robin in there.

Here, we are introduced to the idea of Memory Zones (every time I read this, I think of Mystery Zones from Pokémon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum), areas of Sunday’s subconscious that he made to house his manifestations.

The first zone that Robin enters is incomplete. I imagine that Sunday never prepared for the possibility that Robin would ever enter his mind, so she was thrown into a zone that was quickly conjured up to keep her.

Since Robin too is attuned to Harmony, she can affect the Memory Zone to an extent. The colours you see on the ground is from her own power, as you can tell by the fact it originally came from her every single time it is mentioned.

As to why this is happening, I think it’s more of a subconscious thing once again. Robin doesn’t truly mean to use Harmony here while stuck in a random zone.

She can also hear the whispers, although they are trying to help her unlike Sunday’s ones. This is clearly a major foreshadowing point that you realise later on that these aren’t the same whispers.

We see the Charmony Dove from their childhood flying around and giving Robin a bit of trouble. This was definitely Sunday’s doing, who finally decided what he would do with her.

I wanted Robin to sing here because I thought that it was the best way to calm down the little bird, and symbolize how important her singing is to her and the world around her.

As she keeps saying, it’s the only thing she is good for at the end.

It was Sunday who made the bird fly away like a puppet with feathers, and Robin ran after it. I feel like she’s very selfless, to the point that she would run into a trap knowingly.

A zone just for her.

I knew I wanted to use that story with the Charmony Dove since it’s pretty prominent in 2.2. The Memory Zone she runs into is a replica of the bedroom the siblings stayed in, with the Charmony Dove now in the cage they kept it in.

This bird isn’t the same one as before as you can tell, since this whole zone is Sunday’s memory of how he released the small bird to its death. Robin helps it to fly, but it only shattered its wings when it fell as Sunday explained.

That’s when she learnt that this was all her fault, and we learn why that bullet that wasn’t meant to hit her did back then.

It was karma. They do say that karma’s a bitch, and for Robin, it took form with that bullet. It sounds like I’m quoting Jojo Siwa but I’m not, I swear ;;

Point is, I AM A GENIUS FOR THIS.

I didn’t intent for it but I wrote down that sentence “Perhaps, Robin was shot in the neck because of what she did” and my brain connected the dots immediately with what I wrote with Xipe earlier.

Sunday finally makes an appearance in person. This whole sequence is interesting because we have him hurting Robin, as if she was one of his puppets. I intentionally made it this strange, with Sunday mentioning after that the zone fell out of his control later on.

I described how his arms were out like an overseer, that’s a very obvious reference to Otto Apocalypse from Honkai Impact 3rd.

The lullaby part is from 2.3, where Robin mentioned how Sunday used to sing a lullaby to her when she was restless at night. I thought it would the perfect final blow.

It isn’t Robin in that zone. But it is at the same time. It’s interesting, isn’t it? Would it be too farfetched to say that it was Robin's consciousness who transferred into that puppet? Who knows.

Robin “wakes up” from that Memory Zone, completely nauseous and disoriented from the sheer amount of Harmony, or Order she was subjected to. We saw this with that doctor earlier with only a small amount of it used.

It was too much for her to handle. It was only when Sunday appears again to cut through it all, does she snap out of it out of his sheer grace. What a kind person he is.

We learn that Robin is in a cage. This is the same cage we see in her splash art! I like to try to integrate them into my stories, like I did for one of my previous stories with Black Swan’s one!

The two siblings share a conversation that doesn’t end well, with him leaving her. It was the only logical outcome for our doomed siblings here. I feel bad for them.

The cage breaking and Robin singing is also based on her splash art, as I needed a way for her to escape the cage that made sense to her and the story. I think it signifies how important her singing is to her and how Harmony interacts when she does.

We see Robin running around all the various Memory Zones Sunday has, noting how there are many puppets in them. I was alluding to when we go through those Memory Zones in the Grand Theater where Sunday tells us some stories using his puppets.

In one of them…we find her companion that was forced to sleep alongside her.

WELT YANG IS HERE.

I just wanted to write him since he is one of my favourite characters and I had my chance to finally in a story!

You can probably tell how much I enjoyed writing him based on how long his part is. If you have played Honkai Impact 3rd, or know Welt’s backstory, this is my little treat for you. If Hoyo won't make him do things, I WILL.

I made Welt finally use his powers. He’s the Herrscher of Reason, he has the freaking Star of Eden (the 9th Divine Key itself), AND HE BARELY DOES ANYTHING PLEASE DO SOMETHING I WANT TO SEE—

Ahem.

Making a bench is child’s play for Welt. I thought it would be kind of funny if he did.

Welt is more childish here since he wanted to cheer Robin up, who looked clearly sad. I think he probably used to do something similar with his adoptive son Joey when he was upset. He couldn't help but do so for his companion.

The idea for him making himself have wings like hers is from this one comic I saw on Twitter that lives rent free in my mind. I thought it would be a great way to cheer her up while also using his power more!

(It took me so long to find this, it wasn't funny how much I scrolled)

His wings smack right onto his face rather comedically and I took that from the official emojis where you can see Robin hiding her face. I imagine that younger Halovians struggle with their wings moving around and his wings are practically akin to newborn ones.

The power of Reason.

This is where I had to make things painful. Welt talks about his experience, the memory that Sunday chose to use against him. I was thinking about what would be the best memory, and of course I went for the jugular for that pain factor.

This is where Welt Joyce, the former Herrscher of Reason died in the city he was protecting. This was where Joachim Nokianvirtanen, who we now know as Welt Yang received the Core of Reason, the name Welt and a mission from Welt Joyce, before passing away.

It’s a very important memory to Welt, and one I would see Sunday exploiting. Only those who know of Welt Yang’s story would know that the man he mentioned was Welt Joyce since I intentionally didn't mention his name.

For Welt recreating half of the town, I was spitballing about the energy part. I don’t know if Memoria would be a good substitute for Honkai energy but I’m just rolling with it. Don't quote me on that.

The main role of Welt here is to reassure Robin, give her the will and inspiration to keep going despite everything. She even tells him all about her experiences, a connection between the two already facilitated by simple communication.

I feel like Welt is such a father figure. If only we all had him in our lives.

Reality

Sunday has now merged with Dominicus and has fallen to those whispers above, as the never ending dream is taking form.

The Dreammaster, Mr Gopher Wood himself makes an appearance as his former form. In 2.2, all his ravens die and he is never seen again, making it pretty clear that he's dead. However, I assume that he joined the Dreamscape and is now an entity that can oversee everything.

Dead only physically, as you will.

The Embryo of Philosophy is named by the Dreammaster here, since I was wondering how Sunday was named that during his boss fight, although it could have been from the whispers THEMSELVES. I also made Mr Gopher Wood show his true colours, to show that manipulative side.

There was a reason for this. He didn't want his son to start rebelling or second guessing his choice, so he used Robin as a way to keep him ensnared in his deception. Evil, isn't he?

I honestly think that Sunday knew that he would ascend to Aeonhood, as smart as he is. At least, he would have had an inkling of Gopher Wood’s true intentions.

Those whispers were Ena this whole time inside of Xipe as we learn. If Xipe absorbed Ena, wouldn’t Ena still be there? I think Mr Gopher Wood and Ena were in cahoots, scheming together. Perhaps even more than that (gets hit).

How…how dare he? 

How dare he glimpse Heaven’s will? How dare he change people’s fate?

How dare he decide the life and death of other beings? 

How dare he represent the will of all beings? How dare he control the greatest secrets and riches of the world itself?

How dare he…hold the fate of the entire world in his hands?

These lines are from HI3, particularly from Chapter 3 of Part 2 but slightly edited. This is what Baiji thinks of his actions to save everyone, and I feel like it also applies to Sunday.

We have many HI3 references here. I couldn’t help myself.

We now go back to Robin's point of view. This is after she awakens from Ena’s dream.

I don’t know if any other people woke up aside from the Astral Express + Acheron, Boothill and Black Swan, but for plots sake, there was. Just some random people we don’t care about.

We have Acheron! I wanted to write her since she played a huge part in Penacony and it would be a shame not to after I read this:

The bloody sacrifice becomes the sweet dreamland. The real world will lose meaning for them, while the eternal dream will become their only reality. They will no longer think with time. Their dreams will be connected, which will create a true miracle that transcends finality.

This is also a treat for the HI3 players. The words here are the words that Raven tells Mei before Project Stigma takes place. I was playing through that chapter at one point and thought that the words fit perfectly for this story.

I rewrote Acheron’s part because I disliked what I had initially. I was writing about Finality and how it was the same as transcending Order but it didn’t fit well so I changed it. I wanted to say how Finality governs time and how it can change reality if you had the authority...but perhaps another time.

As we know, Acheron was the only survivor who defeated End, referring to Kevin Kaslana all by herself without her companions unlike in HI3. I had to mention this and highlight the difference between their cases.

She doesn't show up again in the story, but she also impacts Robin in a way.

Miss Firefly takes the stage!

We have a bit of Robifly because I do ship them and I couldn’t help myself when I had a chance to write an interaction between Robin and Firefly. I wanted something a bit more lighthearted to break between all the angst and pain.

I saw how Firefly mentioned that she can't dream, and so I just wanted Robin to tell her otherwise to cheer her up. She’s following Welt’s lead, being that kind and inspirational person!

I’m sorry for making you the third wheel…

Speaking of him, we have Welt again appear! I couldn’t help myself, I just wanted to write more of him and I felt like Robin would try to seek him out first.

Did you know that it was called a Dream Pool, that bed in the Reverie? I had to rewatch 2.0’s quest because I didn’t remember the name for the life of me.

This time, we have Welt suffering yet again…I'm sorry that I only write you like this. He mentions in 2.3 that he dreamt about returning to his homeland and seeing all his old friends. This poor man, imagine waking up to find that it was all a lie.

The yelling mention was obviously a nod to Tesla who I would imagine yell at him for taking this long to return without a single word.

I hope Welt does get to connect with his homeland eventually, I want to see them or hear them!

We then go into the battle against Sunday! I purposely chose Sunday's point of view here, since we never receive it in the game.

I was rewatching the fight, and noted how sudden the switch from the question Sunday asked to mentioning how it was their final talk felt like it wasn’t him talking anymore, which I made the case here since we have my wonderful whispers.

We learn more about how Sunday felt during this, and what may have happened after their fall. Robin mentioned how she woke up by herself, which could only mean that Sunday left her there.

I think he genuinely was upset by the failure, but most of all…failing Robin. The feather falling down is a reference from how there were feathers flying around when Robin appeared and how the Trailblazer took it into their hands.

It clearly has the power of Harmony, and that’s what Sunday can feel when he holds it tightly. I imagine that he would keep that feather with him, as a reminder of what he lost.

The ending is based off 2.3, where we learn that Sunday is captured and will face trial. I didn’t go into much detail since we really don’t know much about how he was caught.

It won’t be the end.

It will be the end of all the suffering. 

I will realise my dreams.

I will make my dreams come true. 

I won’t fail again.

I will never fail.

The poison to Penacony still lingers.

I am a traitor. 

These are Robin and Sunday's thoughts respectfully. As you can see, they are both the same fundamentally. That goes to show how they are both traitors in a way, aren't they?

We have a little ending about the siblings, alongside a story with a snake.

The snake is Miss Jade herself, where Robin went to her to make her greatest desire come true...to let Sunday go free. I wanted to reference the end of 2.3 where we see Jade talking to Sunday, how he was free but he refused her.

I repeated the words Acheron spoke for the very end to tie it all together. The perfect words to end a story filled with so much!

End

Thank you for reading all this! I’ve spent way too long on this story and I’m glad it’s finally out there for everyone to read!

I feel like in terms of storytelling, this is my best story so far! I'm proud of all the elements I was able to merge into this!

- Miku

[sun-lit-roses]

Emily of New Moon Book Club Chapter 11

AKA Eeeee the return of Ilse!!!

Starting out strong with Emily imagining her death as punishment for Aunt Elizabeth again. I should really start counting chapters that occurs in as well as commentary on which realtions Emily resembles.

I mean, not that I disagree that Aunt Elizabeth is in the wrong here.

All I can think of is @mayusteapot calling this 'Jane Eyre fanfic.' Galaxy-brained take, it's so spot on! This is also where it could have taken a turn in that gothic rendition that was also being posted about 😂

Ilse!!❤️❤️❤️

It's interesting that Emily started off with an Anne-like view of friendship - vowing to go through life together and praying to die on the same day - but had that idyll shattered, unlike Anne with Diana. Now her approach to Ilse is 'offhand,' determined not to commit in the same way again.

Off topic I suppose, but it makes me think of Aunt Elizabeth, who also holds people at arms length with an air of indifference or reserve. What led to her even greater distancing from others?

Now I'm comparing Emily to her relatives. It's catching!

I think I've posted or replied to a post on the topic of Ilse's validation of Emily before. That, even though her bar of adult discerning judgement lies later in her life, she values Ilse's opinion as she never did Rhoda's. Rhoda 'giggled' at her writing, but Emily considered that an indictment of Rhoda, not her work. Ilse, she trusted to be honest.

This scene really sets the bedrock for their relationship: Emily wants someone who's honest. Ilse wants someone who likes her for who she is. And (mild spoilers for later books) that relationship is steady as a rock unless either of them turn away from those two central premises.

Dear Aunt Laura! The more I read this time around, the more I desperately want a prequel of the aunts.

[likecanyoujustnot]

ACOSF- Feysand’s pov

Part 3: The labour

A/n: last part 😤😤. Sorry it took so long. I hope I captured the emotions right. Feedback and even recs of what to write next is appreciated.

Again it’s really long.

Rhysand

Nesta had been kidnapped. Taken into the blood rite. The fucking blood rite. Fully grown Illyrian males went in there and didn’t come out alive.

Plus the other two. Gwyn and Emerie, Cassian had said.

I knew Gwyn, we had taken her in after what happened at Sangravah, offered her a place in the library, which she had gratefully accepted. I’d spoken to her on a few occasions, she’d gone through absolute hell at the hands of those Hybern commanders. I knew Azriel didn’t regret killing them.

And Emerie. One of the unlucky Valkyrie females to be clipped even after I made it illegal. She owned a shop in Windhaven, Cassian had visited there a few times before she went to the trainings. I’d winnowed her to training when I was free, spoken to her, got her recommendations on how to handle a few of the Illyrian issues with the females.

Feyre was stressed, three females were in the blood rite, Cassian and Azriel had gone to the continent to save Eris. Everything had gone to shit.

Even as High Lord I couldn’t interfere, it would give the Illyrians the right to hunt and kill me. Laws would not stop them if anyone stopped them from doing a millennias- old tradition.

I sat in my office, signing more papers. Building permits, shipping nonsense, etc.

Rhys

Gods I loved the sound of her voice. It come so close to losing her, thanks to my pride and tendency to burden all my problems alone. I’d spent the last months doing everything I could to make it up to her, but also to keep her happy and take both our minds off what was coming. I’d make her breakfast in bed, we’d take long walks across the Sidra, I’d show her my favourite places from the area surrounding Velaris. But it wasn’t enough. Sometimes I would catch her staring into space, hand on her stomach. I’d pull her into my arms and we would both cry. For the life we wanted, but might never get.

Yes Feyre, darling?

I was so grateful, so grateful she had forgiven me, we’d fought, we’d cried but we’d made up.

My water broke.

The pen in my hand snapped.

That’s not possible you’re no where near full term. Fuck no.

I know that.

We’re supposed to have more time, more time for me to save her, save us.

I ran out of the house and winnowed to her art studio without hesitation. She sat in front in front of an easel- a half-finished rendition of Thesan’s palace in front of her.

Sure enough the was wet staining the front of her leggings, she was crying.

“Rhys-” I ran over and pulled her to me, as tight as I could. I kissed the top of her head as she started sobbing, tears streaking down my own cheeks. I was going to loose her, seconds before I myself lost my life.

I reached out in my mind for Madja, praying the healer would be free.

My lord,

It’s happening, her water broke.

That’s… not good.

I’m taking her to back to the river house, meet me there.

Yes my lord.

“Feyre, darling we have to get to the river house, Madja will meet us there.” Feyre was still sobbing into my shoulder. I picked her up, bridal style, and winnowed to the front of the river house.

I kicked open the door, and Mor ran down the stairs, Elain close behind her.

“Rhys, what happened?” My cousin ran up to us, peering at Feyre.

Feyre screamed. Contraction.

Elain paled.

“Madja is on her way.”

“She can’t be going into labour now, you’re supposed to have months.”

“I know Morrigan.” I snapped, I set Feyre on the bed. “I think it was the stress from Nesta and the others being in the blood rite.”

Mor nodded, face pale, lips drawn. “I’ll go get some towels.”

Elain knelt down on Feyre’s other side, taking her hand.

“Feyre…”

Feyre opened her eyes and looked at her sister. “Elain.”

“It’ll be okay. I promise, we’ll find a way to save you.” Elain looked over at me. “Won’t we?”

“We will.”

My lord I’m outside the house.

“Madja’s here, I’ll go get her-”

“No! Stay Rhys, please.” Tears were shining in my mate’s eyes.

“I’ll go.” Elain stood up and exited the room.

“It’ll be okay, love.” I pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Don’t lie to me Rhys. We still haven’t found anything, Nesta is in the blood rite, Cassian and Az are on the continent, and we’re…” going to die.

She rested her hands on her stomach.

“Feyre, you should try shifting, it might be worth it, if there’s any chance it could save you.”

“Rhys-”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Madja walked through the door, bag under her arm. Elain close behind.

“If labour has already begun, the wings are already tearing her apart.”

I winced. And Feyre flopped back, turning into my chest.

My stomach dropped. No. That was our last option.

Feyre

I was going to die.

And Rhys was going to die with me.

Mor came back with some towels and placed the, on the bed beside me. “How are you doing?” Her voice was soft.

“I’m oka-.” I was interrupted by a contraction. I screamed.

Amren appeared in the doorway. “How is this happening?” Rhys must’ve told her about the labour.

“It’s probably the stress, Elain said your sister is in the blood rite.” I nodded at Madja. “Nasty tradition. Feyre I’m going to have to take the leggings off.” I nodded again, unable to form words.

“So… what do we do?” Mor’s voice was shaky from where she stood, hand on Rhys’ shoulder.

He looked lost, face drawn and eyes downcast. “I-” my mate’s voice broke. “I don’t know.”

“There has to be something.” Amren’s voice was uncharacteristically panicked.

The scent of blood filled the air.

Fuck.

Feyre. Rhys’s voice filled my mind.

Yes?

It’ll be okay, sweetheart.

No it won’t, Rhys, we’re both going to die. Nesta might already be dead, and who knows what’s happening to Cassian and Azriel.

Hours went by, I hardly felt as Madja poked and prodded me, tried everything to get Nyx to come out alive, and without killing me. The others spoke in quiet voices, trying not to disturb me as all my strength went into trying to heal my body. Contractions would take my body and Rhys would hold me as I screamed.

“What if she doesn’t make it…” Mor

“This is not fair…” Elain

“The babe is stuck…” Madja

“You Illyrians and your stupid anatomy…” Amren

“Open your eyes, Feyre.” Rhys.

He was stroking a thumb along my forehead. I looked up at him. His eyes were red.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I reached a hand up to cup his face.

I screamed.

Rhys sat up suddenly.

“Azriel.” His voice came out choked.

The heads of the other four females turned to Rhys.

“He’s alive. So’s Eris, but he can’t winnow.” Mor looked disappointed at hearing that the Autumn Court prince was alive.

“What about Cassian?” Amren acted like she didn’t care most of the time, but deep down I knew she did.

“He’s been taken.” There was gasps around the room. “Briallyn.”

The human queen, turned crone by the cauldron.

“Az says she’s going after Nesta.”

“Where is Az?” Mor voice was panicky.

Rhys rattled off a location and Mor kissed my cheek before running out of the room.

“Do you think Nesta is alive?” Elain’s voice was quiet.

“Probably.” Amren turned to my sister.

“She must’ve used the crown on Cassian.” Rhys said, voice filled with worry for his brother.

“Well then why not take Azriel as well? That would’ve been the strategic decision, he knows more about how the court works than Cassian, he’d be less detectable too.” Amren contemplated

“Because Cassian means something to Nesta.” My voice was croaky and hoarse.

Everyone looked at me.

“Think about it, there are more ways to hurt someone than physically, you take someone they care about, whose life they wouldn’t dare risk. Their mate.”

“You knew.” Rhys’s tone was soft.

“I suspected, it would explain why Cassian put up with her for so long, why he kept pursuing her. You thought so too.”

He corner of his mouth turned up. “I did.”

There was a loud crash downstairs.

“Mor.” Amren said.

Two sets of feet ran up the stairs and the door was thrown open.

Azriel’s eyes widened as he took in the room. He walked over to the side of the bed and knelt down next to me.

“Feyre. I-”

I cut him off with a scream and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” He continued. He looked over me to Rhys. “We put Eris is one of the cells in the Hewn City until we can make sure he’s not still under the crown’s control.”

Rhys nodded. “Thank you.”

“What do we do about the rite?” He scanned the room.

“We can’t do anything. If we interfere they will kill us.” Mor said as she sat back down next to Amren.

“It’s a bullshit rule.” Azriel spat.

“One we can’t ignore, boy, so you’ll do best to keep quiet until we hear something from one of them.”

“I can’t believe they were taken.” Azriel stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

He was concerned, he had been training them for months.

“You trained them well.”

Azriel glared at Amren, he had said the same thing to comfort Cassian when he was panicking earlier. He had been calmer then, his face was pale now and eyes holding worry.

“So we wait.”

I closed my eyes. The eventfulness of the last few minutes had tired me out. Rhys still sat next to me on the bed, laying at an uncomfortable angle so he could be close to me.

Rhys.

Yes?

I’m scared.

Me too.

I don’t want to die. We’ve come so far, defied death twice, it can’t end like this, it just can’t.

We’ll find a way, sweetheart, we always do. It’ll be okay.

Madja sighed.

Worry filled Rhys’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I still can’t get the baby to mo-” She was cut off by Rhys’s exclamation.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” I grabbed his arm.

“The wards at the house of wind have been breached.”

“By what.” Mor stood up, looking like if Rhys said the wrong thing she would run over there to kill it.

Azriel’s shadows swarmed, some of them rushing out of the room.

“Two people, females.” He paused and looked at his brother. “Your Valkyries are back, Az.”

Azriel slumped back onto the couch.

“Wait, two?” Elain spoke up for the first time in ages.

Azriel’s shadows came back. “Emerie and Gwyn.” He relayed. “Rhys, they’ve become Carnythian.”

Rhysand

Three females went into the blood rite, two came out Carnythian. Carnythian. There are only four living Carnthians, and two of them were in that room.

“Not only did they survive the rite, they’re Carnythian?” Mor’s eyes widened.

“Yes.” Azriel looked like he wanted to winnow out and make sure the two were okay, but stayed out of loyalty to myself and Feyre.

I reached out in my mind and told Nuala and Ceridwen to go check on Emerie and Gwyn, make sure they weren’t injured, and that anything they needed they had.

I pulled Feyre into my chest and pushed her hair out of her face.

“If they’re alive then Nesta has to be right?” She asked.

“I don’t know.”

So we waited, for anything. Madja was running around and grabbing things from her bag, pressing on Feyre’s stomach to try and coax the baby to move, pressing her hands into my mate’s body, trying to save her.

It was then I felt it. That presence in my mind, Cassian.

“Mor, Az.” They both looked at me. “Go to the top of Ramiel. Cassian is there.”

Mor let out a sob and Azriel started muttering. They both rushed out of the room.

“Is Nesta there?” Elain asked me after a while, eyes full of hope.

“He didn’t seem to be overly distressed, so she should be.”

Feyre screamed. I glared at Madja. It was hard for me, seeing her in this much pain.

The door was flung open and Mor ran in, followed by my brothers and Nesta.

I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t her fault she was taken into the rite, even if it did cause Feyre’s early labour.

Cassian’s face paled and Nesta’s eyes widened.

Madja didn’t look up as she said. “I’ve turned the babe, but he’s not descending. He’s wedged in the birth canal.”

Amren gasped.

“She’s losing too much blood, and I can feel the babe’s heart in distress.”

Fuck.

“What do we do?” Mor asked.

Cassian and Azriel came up behind me, placing their hands on my shoulders.

“There is nothing we can do, cutting the babe out of her will kill her.” Madja said.

“Cutting it out?” Nesta demanded, and I glared at her.

“An incision along her abdomen, even one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It’s never been successful. And even with Feyre’s healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened her-”

“Do it.” Feyre’s voice held so much pain.

“Feyre.” No. There had to be another way, I wouldn’t lose her.

“The babe likely won’t survive.” Madja’s voice was soft, but uncompromising. “It’s too small yet. We risk both of you.”

“All of you.” I felt Cassian’s eyes on me as he said it.

“Do it.” Even on her death bed, body being torn apart, I admired her for her tone. No fear, only pure determination in the voice of the High Lady. She looked up at me and I felt my heart break. “We have to.”

I nodded slowly, tears lining my eyes.

Nesta and Elain approached the other side of the bed, heads lowered as Elain started praying.

I was trembling, Cassian’s hand tightened on my shoulder as my power flowed into Feyre, trying with all that it could to heal her.

Madja got off the bed and returned with knives and tools, but I barely saw it looking down at my mate.

Beautiful. Strong. The most important thing in my life.

Doomed.

We both were.

“Go into her mind to take the pain away.” Madja said to me.

I blinked and cursed myself for not thinking of it sooner.

Elain had grabbed Feyre’s other hand.

“Feyre darling-”

“No good-byes.” Feyre’s voice was strained. “No good-byes Rhys.”

And I physically felt my heart shatter as her eyes closed.

There was no sound when my son came up, as Madja passed the unmoving boy to my crying cousin. Tears fell down my own face.

Madja swore.

And I began screaming.

I knew what was happening, that she was losing her grip on life as I lunged for my mate.

Feyre

I could feel death.

It hovered.

Around me, my mate and our son.

I could feel it over the yelling of the healer, the pleading of my sister, the crying of my friend as she held my lifeless baby, the screaming of my mate, the grunts of his brothers as they held him back.

I could feel it.

Death opened its arms to me, getting ready to take me as my breathing thinned.

And this wasn’t like last time.

Death seemed to whisper to me. There aren’t seven high lords here to save you this time, Cursebreaker.

There was a golden light.

But I ignored it as I slipped further into Death’s arms.

Rhysand

Cassian and Azriel were holding me back, fourteen combined siphons blazing with the force it took to hold me.

All I knew was I had to get to Feyre.

It was a primal urge now. Get to my mate. Get to her before death does.

These bastards.

There was a golden light.

Amren gasped.

Nesta.

She was wearing the mask, the crown sat atop her head, and in her arms was the harp.

She had all the items of the dread trove.

No one had done that and lived.

Nesta walked to toward the bed. Toward Feyre.

I surged for her. I was not letting her anywhere near Feyre.

Nesta held up a hand and my body went still.

Feyre’s chest rattled, and I knew that was her final breath.

I knew it as Nesta plucked the twenty-sixth string on the harp.

And Time stopped.

I was able to move again. I lunged against the hold my brothers had on me. Amren stepped next to us and hissed. “Listen.”

Nesta was whispering. “I give it all back.” Her shoulders heaved as she wept.

My head was shaking. And I could feel my power raising like a wave. I couldn’t tell if it was me or the reaction to my mate dying.

Amren grabbed the nape of my neck, her nails digging into my skin. “Look at the light.”

And there was light. Flowing from Nesta’s body into Feyre’s.

Nesta still held her sister as she kept repeating. “I give it back, I give it back, I give it back.”

I stopped fighting my brothers.

No one moved. Not Mor holding the too small bundle in her arms, not Elain, who had stepped back from the bed, not Cassian, Azriel or Amren standing with me.

The light flowed all over Feyre, down her arms and legs, over her pale, lifeless face.

A delicate tendril of light floated over to Mor. Toward where my son was wrapped up in her arms. It set the baby glowing.

Nesta was still whispering. “I give it back, I give it all back.”

The light kept filling them. It lit my cousin’s face and the shock was thrown in stark relief.

“I give it back.” The mask and crown tumbled from Nesta’s head and the light exploded. Blinding and warm, throughout the room.

It faded and dark ink was splashed on Nesta’s back. She made a bargain with the cauldron.

I lunged for Feyre, and this time I wasn’t held back.

I ran to my mate.

Feyre

My eyes opened.

Death was gone.

No longer hovering in the room.

Almost like that golden light had scared it away.

I blinked at Rhys, tracks of tears running down his face.

Then I turned to Nesta.

“I love you too.” I whispered, and smiled. Nesta sobbed and launched at me and hugged me.

A wail went up from the other side of the room.

Mor was weeping as she walked over to us. The baby in her arms wasn’t small, as I had seen in my glimpse before exhaustion had claimed me. No, this was a healthy baby boy. With thick dark hair and wings.

I sobbed and took Nyx from Mor.

I barely heard Madja as she said “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you developed an Illyrian’s anatomy.”

Rhys put his arm around me as we cried and laughed and took in our son.

He looks like you. I said into his mind.

How dare he.

I laughed again.

Madja approached us. “Let him feed.”

I bought the baby to my breast. Awed.

It hurts

But Rhys wasn’t looking at me.

Rhysand

I whirled to Nesta, who had slid off the bed and stood next to the mask.

I surveyed her.

My sister-in-law.

I fell to my knees, grabbing Nesta’s hand. “Thank you.” I wept, head bowed.

She had saved Feyre, and Nyx. I knew we would never be the best of friends, but for this, I would try.

Nesta dropped to the carpet in front of me. She lifted my face in her hands, before throwing her arms around me.

And I hugged her.

Feyre

“He’s asleep.” I said as I walked up to where Rhys sat on the couch

“Thank the Mother.” I sat in his lap and he pulled me into his chest. “I would’ve helped you.”

“Yes well, you’ve had a big day.”

It’d been a week since we’d almost died.

Rhys went to the windhaven with Cassian where the General had killed the males responsible for taking Nesta and her friends into the rite. Rhys had made it clear what happens if anyone who did not consent to being apart of the rite was forcefully taken and thrust into it ever again.

He’d also dealt with the last of the issues surrounding Eris and the Dread Trove.

I’d wanted to help, but he’d insisted that almost dying warranted a couple weeks of rest.

Plus we weren’t getting much sleep with Nyx’s crying and constant hunger.

The people of Velaris were rejoicing.

They had a prince. For the first time since Rhys’ accession almost 500 years ago they had a clear heir.

We’d been sent well-wishes and gifts from all across not just the court, but Prythian and beyond. Including a stuffed white wolf from Viviane and Kallias, a card with no more than 5 words from Keir, a basket full of little toys from Miryam and Drakon, a few of those fish I’d had at Adriata wrapped up and spelled not to go bad (for when you’re good tired to cook- read the card) from Tarquin and Cressida.

It made my heart warm to see all these people who cared and would one day get to meet our son, (except Keir, we were going to avoid that for as long as possible).

“I did say everything would be okay didn’t I?”

I laughed and smacked his arm.

But he did.

I had my mate and son. I’d somewhat healed my relationship with my sister.

Everything was okay.

Again, thank you for reading, the other parts are on my page, feedback, comments and reblogs appreciated.