#if we did that even just standing on the ground we'd pass out

[lunarflare64]

*deep breath* one of our cat trees made a hole in our ceiling. This was discovered directly after the mould on the wall behind it was discovered.

Shitty fuckin night.

[penelopesartstash]

Recently had the Fates brainworms reawakened, so begins my redesigning of the royals and their retinue. I don't knoww if I'll get the the Hoshidans, but I have my eyes set on finishing the Nohrian sibs. Camilla and co are up next !

Selena's impressions of Nohr and its cavalry under the cut ~

~

Arriving in a new country is always weird. You'd think with years across worlds and realms I'd stop being surprised, but there's always something new that gets me.

Getting here was shitty, that's for sure. Our hands and legs were bloody from the climb out of the canyon, though Owa-hm. Odin. Had somehow kept Mikoto spotless carried on his back, didn't have time to see if she was any damn grateful for it though. About a days trek northward, and the lack of settlements was strange. This war we were told about was recent, recent enough there should at least be remnants of fighting along the border if there'd been people, but there was nothing. Just craggy land, some sparse trees and dry vegetation.

The town we did reach answered little, some wooly pigs but no signs of larger livestock, not like there'd be much viable land to raise them on. There were a few jacks, with one's meat being smoked in the center, broken leg they'd said. Az managed to grab us some local clothing and a large cloak for us to share.

Going westward as we were told only made Nohr seem more bleak. There was little farmable land, Nagas tits it was cold, and the woods, full of smaller game and wild boar, were vast and easy to get lost in (His Most Darkest Majesty or whatever rambled something about dark spirits, who knows). With the weather unpredictable as it was we managed to get a mule, in case we wouldn't be able to hunt during a storm. Bred from city stock, the seller'd said, which was surprising. So far we'd heard it only gets harsher towards the capital, no space for horses.

Passed by manors and minor lord's retinues, the people seem well trained, it's becoming clear what Mikoto meant when she spoke about Nohrians being a fearsome people. Living in these conditions makes them hardy, and the commons seem like one of those uncaring for social niceties.

There's a tournement being held in the capital, a merc on the road told us. I didn't get his name. Heading the same way he is; held by the royal family and a way to win a hiring near the castle. Lent us a spot in his wagon for the rest of the way, which is nice I suppose. Even got us a portion of smoked boar.

Az-Laslow, kept the conversation up for the ride. The mercs horse is Hlenni, got the right to keep her after he earned his parents land back in the south. Wealthy family from the sound of it. Been training her for battle, wants to serve the crown on the frontlines, take hoshidan land for his servants.

Cavalry's a lords 'right', apparently. Stories of fearless charges, many a tale of man and horse being as one like brothers. Odins giving him advice now, as if he's going to last 15 minutes in a real fight, but it's not my job to stop him.

-

I'm not sure what I was expecting once the treeline broke after another few days, but it certaintly wasn't this. The forest just ended, made more obvious with a line of burnt trees and ash and grey ground. For a minute I thought we'd been tricked and he'd taken us to some sort of prison, though Lazlow held me back before I could react. Standing on the side of the cart all we could see for leagues was dead ground, ash filled the air and in the distance dragonets circled an armored fortress, giant iron spikes protruding from what looked like a fucking cratered volcano. Odin was stunned for words for a moment, I think he felt out darkness-ed, the idiot.

My hand was on my hilt the entire way across the expanse, paths we could see leading to the 'city'. Other wagons pulled by horses meandering their way in and out which, seriously, where are they keeping these things?

I muttered as much to Laslow, and the bastard just winked at me, like he'd heard something he hadn't told us from our last stop. The security at the gate was impressive, the guards and city clearly expected attacks. Took about an hour to get through, winding in a tunnel built into the wall, a slow slope felt, definitively downwards but gentle enough for the animals comfort.

After the third inner gate, I was stuck in awe, as I always seem to be, at this new city. Laz ended up pulling on my arm to get moving. Laughing at me, probably. Asshole.

Didn't hear him though. Standing in front of us, nestled in this fucking volcano, was Krakenburg. An obsidian palace loomed in the center, held by pillars and connected to the upper layers with massive bridges. Below it we could see what seemed a district of rich and intricately designed mansions, connected to barracks and fortifications, and then...

Ah. There. A carved layer of miles of fertile land filled with grazing cattle and horses. I couldn't make out far enough, but it seemed expanded on the natural tiered interior structure of the volcano. I could also make out what appeared to be the bulk of the city stepped underneath, presumabely hiding the slums and and prisons even lower. Didn't have time to look further, we'd arrived where we'd be staying. The others laughter filled the background, and kept me warm against the harsh chill of the capitol.

-

Princess Camilla. Eldest daughter, Wyvern Sister, Scourge of the Western Plains, and fucking 8 foot tall smokestack. That's who I landed in service to. Not sure if I should be jealous of the others royals, Lord Xander seems like a stubborn pain to deal with, and Lord Leo distrusts any air breathed near him. But we're here now, one step closer to finding Corrin. Camilla at least is quick to gush about her family, so we know she's being held in a fortress to the north.

I've been sent to have Beruka, my new coworker, show me the ins and outs of the barracks and stables. I'm honestly having trouble figuring out how they created this place. Especially how they keep these animals healthy. Even with the pastures they must've adapted to live well without sunlight.

Most of the horses seem to be small, fleet footed things. Heavier than I thought they'd be, hurt like a bitch if they charged you. Most, I say, because I'm introduced to the Lady's riding horse, Ótr, who, matching the towering royals, must be 20 hands at the whithers. Ótr's breath felt like a stove in front of my face, and a brush was placed in my hand. I remember briefly hearing the crown prince was a renowned cavalier.

Ah

Laslows going to hate this next year.

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎyou and alex get lost in a corn maze꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x alex nilsen

The sun was turning the clouds a delightful shade of pink, like cotton candy was spun right in the sky from the hands of some deity. Cornstalks poked into the vision, spanning far above Alex's head and even further above yours.

You poked your head around the path corner, groaning when a dead end met your eyes. "No, this one's a bust."

"Shoot." Alex scratched his head, turning around and looking behind him. "How far back was the last trail marker?"

"I dunno." You pulled your jacket tighter around you, rubbing your palms together. "Maybe ten minutes?"

"Huh." He squinted into the distance, bumping your shoulder playfully. "I kinda feel like we're in the apocalypse."

"Soon we'll have to eat each other to stay alive."

"I'll take your left hand and you can have mine."

"How chivalrous." You shivered, and he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your arms. "We might have to burn the maze down to stay warm."

"At least we'd see the way out," he murmured, and you giggled. Alex looked down at you like you were utterly adorable, smoothing the back of your head.

You sighed, burying your face in his chest. "You are the only person in the world I'd want to be lost in a corn maze for three hours with."

"Be still my heart," Alex teased, and you hmphed, smiling up at him.

You looped your arm with his since you hadn't passed anybody in the maze for the entire time you'd been here. "C'mon, handsome. Let's get outta here so we can find some hot cider or something."

Alex's cheeks flushed just a little, and you laughed, tugging him along. Truthfully, even though it was getting dark, you weren't at all worried. If three hours had been ten, it wouldn't feel like much at all so long as you were with him.

You began to stand on tiptoes at different intervals, trying to see either through or over the feathery cornstalks. Both attempts failed.

He chuckled watching you. "Need some help there, baby?"

"Uh huh." You turned to him, bouncing on your tiptoes. He grinned, positioning his hands on your hips and hoisting you up, so your legs were hooked over his hips, clasped in the back. You craned your neck, bracing your arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss his nose.

Alex turned around so you could see ahead on the path. You craned your neck, looking around. "This is what you see all the time? The ground is this far away?"

"I guess so, cutie," he smiled. "See a way out?"

"No," you said, sighing and letting him bring you down. "Guess we'll have to get out the old-fashioned way."

You wandered ahead of him, practically skipping as you turned corners in the maze. The sunset illuminated you as you trudged around, humming something to yourself. When you turned around to look at Alex. He smiled wide. "I'll just follow you, babe."

And follow you he did, letting you take the lead and wander your way around. It felt like a game of chase, and you stopped, scrunching your nose. "I think we're almost there."

"Victory." Alex grinned at you as your arm linked through his once more. "Knew you could get us outta here."

"I followed my instincts," you chirped, turning the corner to see the brilliant sight of the exit. Squealing excitedly, you turned to him. "We did it!"

"Good job, baby." Alex kissed your forehead once, and you leaned against him, giving him a loving look. When he touched your hand, his blue eyes widened. "Your hands are cold."

"A little bit." You shrugged.

Alex put your hand in his closest pocket, wrapping an arm around your waist and rubbing your side. "Let's go get you a hot drink."

Guiding you over to the stand selling donuts and cider, he left you under one of the heat lamps radiating warmth from the top with the promise of food and drink.

As you waited, you watched the glowing orb of the sun sink delightfully down under the hills, the moon beginning to appear, early stars dotting the paint palette smeared across the sky. It was beautiful- all of it. You folded your arms over yourself, smiling at the sight.

When Alex returned, he pressed a hot cup of cider into your hands, holding one of his own. "Drink up. Want your insides warm too." You smiled when he put an arm around your shoulders, bringing you right up close. You took a sip of your drink, humming delightedly as it sent a hot chill down your spine.

"Thank you," you murmured, resting your chin on his shoulder.

If the two of you were alone he would have kissed you. "You're welcome."

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 4*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N faked their break-up when they got back to the wedding, and they haven’t seen each other since. But Y/N can’t handle the silence, and decides to confront him.”

Wc: 5.2k

Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: angst, overdue confessions, possessiveness, feral!Harry, elevator sex, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), overstimulation (slightly)

A/N: The final part is here!!! I hope you enjoyed this little ride. Thank you for the likes, reblogs and comments. I just wrote this in one sitting, and I haven’t actively proof read it, but I wanted to upload it anyway and I’ll go over it again tomorrow. Enjoy!

It has been three weeks since Harry and I flew back home. After our adventure in the broom closet, Harry’s entire energy had shifted and he was being distant, except when we needed to prove to everyone that we were a couple.

The flight was nothing short of excruciating, and a part of my soul, one that I had decided to lock up for my own sanity, hoped that the plane would never hit the ground. It had become evident that once back home, everything would go back to how it used to be. That stupid flight was the last time I could pretend Harry and I would ever stand a chance.

I was in awe with how fast I'd fallen for him, but seeing him around his family, having him touch me in the ways he did, and watching his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at me. I'm positive I'm making half of it up, especially because I've been reeling over everything that happened over the past week.

Harry and I had agreed, before we even stepped on the plane to Italy, to just tell our friends that it didn't work out once we got back. To say that we got into a fight on the way home, and we were back to hating each other's guts.

At the time I wondered how I was going to fake being heart broken in front of my friends, but I didn't have to lie. Zoey and Natalia were shocked to see how affected I was by this supposed break-up. They never said 'I told you so', but I know they were thinking it. Nonetheless, they stayed with me, talking about it all night.

I managed to twist the story to fit the narrative Harry and I told everyone. I just needed to talk to someone about the whole situation with Ophelia and how I felt foolish for ever thinking we'd have a shot in the first place.

A week after we got back, I saw him in the hallway of the literature building. He doesn't take any literary classes, so I was startled when I saw him standing there. He was alone, and looking at me, but he didn't walk up to me. I tore my gaze away from him and walked into the classroom. I still don't know what we talked about in that class, but I remember sitting by the window to watch him walk to the engineering building, hands buried in his pockets.

Thirty days have passed, and I'm still not entirely over it. Zoey and Natalia asked me to go out for drinks tonight, and I reluctantly accepted. I need to get out of this house and start moving on from the confusing mess I worked myself into.

We meet at a local Irish pub near the campus. Upon arriving, I almost immediately spot the girls sitting in one of the bigger booths. As I near, I spot a few of Malcolm's friends, and my ex himself in the booth too. Zoey sees me and comes running as fast as she can, pulling me away from the table.

"I am so sorry!" She begins, a stressed look on her face. "We texted you that he was here, but we weren't sure if you'd get them in time. I swear, we didn't know he was coming."

I throw her a smile, then pull her into a hug. Zoey stays still first, but slowly wraps her around me too. When I get out of the hug and look back at her, her wide eyes are filled with question marks.

"I really don't care, but thank you for trying to warn me." I rub her arms soothingly. I still sound sad, I know that, but I can't help it. Maybe a beer will help me relieve some of the weight I've been feeling on my shoulders these past few weeks.

"You really liked Harry, didn't you?" She asks me, and I nod, because it's in the past now so there is no point in denying it anymore. "Even though you dated for such a short time."

"He just... I don't know, Zoe. He felt so familiar, and I thought that meant something..." I shrug, feeling my heart strain as I talk. "But it didn't. My mistake."

Zoey gives me a sad smile, and suggests to go get a drink. I agree and we walk to the bar together, where we both order some kind of special beer we've never tasted before. We get caught up in a conversation, and our huge glasses are half-empty by the time we get back to the booth. I greet everyone, blowing a kiss to Natalia who sits in the middle of the booth. She shares the same worried look as Zoey, but at the sight of our faces, she relaxes a bit.

I feel Malcolm's burning stare on me. He is sitting with his arm around another girl, slouched back, fiddling with his empty glass on the table. I don't gift him the satisfaction of meeting his eye any more than necessary, and pick up the conversation with Zoey where we left it off.

An hour goes by, and no one dares to mention Harry so far, which makes me a lucky girl because I don't want to hear about him right now. But I think my mind jinxed it, unfortunately, because over Zoey, Natalia and my laughter, I hear Malcolm's voice say something I didn't even know I was dreading until the words come out of his mouth.

"Did you see that blonde chick Harry was with the other day?" He asks Noel, one of his idiot friends, who has always hated me for some reason. Noel nods intently.

"Oh yeah she was insanely hot, where the fuck did he even get her from?" He replies, and even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel the smirk in his voice.

But I don't really care about the malice with which those words were spoken. All I can think about is the word 'blonde', and how much I wish it isn't who I think it is.

I take a deep breath and finish my beer in one go. I have taken note of the awkward silence that dominates the table, but I don't let it get me self-conscious.

"I have to go." I say to Zoey, and start moving towards the end of the booth. She moves along with me and gets out of the booth so I can get out, but she looks concerned.

"Don't let Mal get to you. He's a jerk." She pleas, and I shake my head.

"He isn't getting to me. I just need to go, I need to see Harry." I explain, even though I'm risking the chance that Natalia and Zoey will physically restrain me from going.

"I'll drive you." I hear Natalia say from behind me. I turn around and see her getting out of the booth as she throws on her jacket.

"Where are you guys going?" Noel asks, a bit of an angry tone in his voice. Natalia turns around and scowls at him.

"To find guys whose balls have dropped."

With that, Zoey and Natalia escort me out of the pub, and we giggle as we get into the car.

"Okay, where does he live again?" Natalia says, getting her car GPS ready. I give her the address, which is actually quite close to the pub, and in under five minutes we have arrived at his apartment complex. I've never been here before, but I keep that to myself, of course.

"All right," Natalia and Zoey turn around to me, who is sitting in the backseat. "let us know when you're inside and if you want us to wait, okay?"

I nod at them, and they cheer me on as I get out of the car. Anxiety fills me as I make my way towards the door, and I feel like I might just throw up as I ring the bell. However, Harry doesn't answer it. To my luck, a woman opens the door from the inside, and holds the door for me so I can walk inside.

Utter fear and excitement make my body shiver as I stand in the empty elevator, waiting to reach the seventh floor where Harry lives. I speed walk towards his front door, but once I'm in front of her, I get increasingly more anxious about knocking.

What if Ophelia is still here? What if they're inside together? I'd look like a fool. Hell, I already do. What part of me even assumed he feels something for me in the first place. For all I know, he doesn't give two shits about me.

But the second I take a physical step back, I shake my head. No, I need to talk to him.

I knock a couple of times, but there is no answer. I stand there for a minute, then knock again. After three minutes of standing there in silence, my shoulders start to slump. He's not here. But there is a string of motivation that pulls me along anyway, and it makes me pick up my phone and dial his number.

Much like his door, he doesn't answer the phone, and I am connected to his voicemail. I take a deep breathe as the peep reaches my ear.

"Hi," I softly say when the peep has faded and it's up to me to leave him a message. "I... I'm uh, I'm at your apartment, but you're not home— Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have had to leave this voicemail."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the awkward trailing off, and clench my jaw to shut myself up before I say too much stupid shit.

"But uhm, I heard you were with— never mind. Can we talk? Let me know, okay?" I stumble, before hanging up. I sigh, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity as I walk back to the elevator.

When I'm back at the car again, the girls are quick to jump me with questions, but their voices fade at the sight of my disappointed face.

"We'll drop you off at your apartment, okay?" Natalia says as Zoey grabs my hand and squeezes it. I silently nod, feeling too stupid to talk or move.

It doesn't take long to get to my apartment, which is on campus. I huh the girls goodbye and make a beeline for the elevator, wanting to get into my bed as soon as possible and watch movies for the rest of the night.

When the elevator reaches my floor, I am quick to step out, but my eyes widen at the person I spot.

At my front door is Harry, whose head shoots towards me at the ping of the elevator. His eyebrows raise at the sight of me, like he's relieved to see me. In a matter of seconds, he's standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to say, my mind cloudy from the surprise of him standing at my front door after I just came back from standing at his front door.

"Making up for my stupidity." He says without missing a beat, a sad look in his eyes. It looks an awful lot like the way he looked at me in the broom closet as his energy completely shifted and he emotionally closed himself off from me for the rest of the trip.

"D– did you get my voicemail?" I ask him, but he shakes his head. I stare at him, doe eyed. Freaky.

"I was just at your apartment. You weren't there, and I thought you were with... Malcolm said he saw you with a blonde girl and I... oh, I don't know I'm rambling." I wave it off, shrugging my shoulders.

"I wasn't." Harry leans down to meet my eyes, and when he does, he says it again. "I wasn't."

He cups my face with his hands and waits for me to respond to him. I nod, softly, my stomach turning at the touch of his hands on my face, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

"Look, this whole thing is stupid. I caught feelings, and I think I saw things and found meanings that weren't there." I confess to him, the tension in my body already starting to fade away. "I just got weirdly jealous of Ophelia. I mean, here I was with this crush that had been developing for a couple weeks, while she has this deep history with you. I know I can't compete with someone like that."

Harry frowns as if I'm telling him lies, and it gets me a little bit insecure.

"But, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to apologize for if I made things weirder than they needed to be." I give him a half-smile. "So, sorry."

It stays silent between us, for a couple of minutes, but then Harry let's put a short laugh. My cheeks begin to heat up at the sound of it. Is he laughing at me?

I roll my eyes. I thought he was serious about talking to me, and now I feel stupid for what I just said. I go to walk past him, but he doesn't allow me to.

"Let me through." I demand, trying to push his arm away, but he just shakes his head.

"No."

"I'm not going to stand if you're just going to laugh at me. Let me through, Harry." I argue, but he doesn't budge. I groan loudly, then turn around and walk towards the elevator. I hear his footsteps behind me , but I ignore them.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching me as I push the button from the elevator over and over again, as if it has any effect on the speed with which it will arrive.

"Getting away from you." I grit through my teeth, a little sense of victory washing over me as the elevator door opens. I have no idea where I'm going, but I'm currently opting for tattling Harry to the janitor so he'll get kicked out of the building.

Not so much to my surprise, he follows, standing in front of the buttons. He smirks lazily as I try to move him away, and eventually manage to push the '1' button. The door closes, and I go to turn around, but Harry pulls me back against him, and suddenly the elevator starts shaking a bit, and we come to a halt. I push Harry's arm away from my waist and turn around to see his hand still around the emergency stop. My eyes widen at the realization of what he just did.

"What did you do?!" I cry out.

"We weren't done talking." He says, face turned serious again.

"We were." I argue, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes at me, just like I did before.

"We were not."

"Well, I was!"

"You can be so difficult sometimes, do you know that?" He tells me, voice strained with irritation.

"Says the guy who stopped the elevator!" I fight back.

"You won't hear me out." Harry reasons, and he's right. I don't. I'm too mad to hear him out right now. So, I don't respond to him with anything but a scowl. He takes a step closer, and I instinctively take one back, tearing my eyes off him and instead staring at the ground.

"And if you don't hear me out, you wouldn't know that Ophelia was never here. I haven't seen her since the wedding. They probably saw me with someone from class." He tells me, and while I feel relieved, I also feel like an idiot for ever having the plan to let janitor Hector throw Harry out of the building.

"And you also wouldn't know that when I was eighteen, I went to this pool party, and I saw this girl in a lilac bikini, playing volleyball in the pool with a beer in her hand," He steps closer again, and I let him. My brows knit and I meet his eyes. "and I fell in love with her right then and there."

I remember that party. I didn't know he was there, too.

"But she was dancing with someone else, so I hooked up with this girl named Marie. And when I went on a date with her, I discovered her best friend was the girl from the pool party." He explains, and I scoff. What a pretty fairytale like story, too good to be true. Harry shakes his head slowly, and then cups my face with his hands again.

"I swear to god, Y/N. I've liked you from the first time I laid eyes on you three years ago. I was young, and stupid and I'm sorry you lost that friendship because of me. I shouldn't have made a move on you while dating someone else, that was stupid and I can't take that back. But I got too excited with the fact that I could finally talk to you."

"You worry about me and Ophelia's history. Well, I've wanted you for three years. I've just been waiting for even a sliver of a chance, and I promised myself I wouldn't fuck it up when I got it." He tells me, and the generosity in his voice makes me want to cry. "I just got a bit nervous, after what happened those two nights. I didn't want it to be a one time thing. But I acted too distant, I shouldn't have done that. But I swear, from the moment I saw you, it's been you. Not Ophelia or anyone else, just you, okay? And if you don't believe me, let me add that my parents actually don't know Leila's gay."

I take a deep, shaky breath, unable to take my eyes off of him, and then push my lips onto his. It's sudden, and it's needy, and it stems from the overwhelming urge to be as close to him as I possibly can. I can't articulate what I feel but I can show it by the way I kiss him.

He doesn't waste anytime and deepens the kiss as soon as my arms have flung around his neck. His tongue dances around mine hungrily, but there is still this gentleness in his movements. He is holding back a bit, as if he kissing me like he really wants to will make me disappear. I decide to pull out of the kiss for a moment, and we stare at each other, breathless with the passion that is burning in both our bodies.

"I missed you." I blurt out, shocking myself and him. Harry's mouth forms into a wide smile, and dives his head straight into my neck. A moan escapes my mouth the second I feel him starting to suck on my skin.

"Harry... we probably shouldn't do this here." I protest ever so slightly, because I actually do not care but I'd rather have him in my bed than against the hard wall. "Let's go back to my place."

He kisses his way up to my jaw, and gums in agreement. I go to step away from him to push back the emergency stop, but Harry doesn't let me. He puts his left hand around my neck and kisses me again, while his right hand hikes up my skirt. Upon stopping the kiss, he leans into my ear.

"We'll get out of here once you've had an orgasm. Consider it an apology for laughing just now." He purred. The combination his heavy breathing and his fingers slipping into my panties makes me shut my eyes tightly. He strokes my pussy with two of his fingers, getting a feel of my wetness.

"Poor girl, I've got you all soaked, don't I?" He taunts as he begins to rub my clit. I moan a 'yes', too aroused to be able to handle the slow teasing. I just want to come so we can get out of here and he can fuck me on my bed.

"Harry, please..." I plead with him, and somewhat of a growl leaves his mouth. His fingers disappear from my heat and I whine at the sudden coolness of my underwear's fabric in my pussy.

I hear the jingle of his belt and I look down to see him taking his rock hard cock out of his pants. Before I can even ask what he's doing, Harry grabs my ass and lifts me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around him, gasping at the feel of his cock against my wet folds.

"I'm going to give you my cock baby, and you're going to take it like the good girl you are, alright?" He commands, taking my underwear between both of his hands and ripping it apart. I widen my eyes at the sight of him pushing away my torn panties, but I'm too turned on from it to get mad.

"Harry, we're in an elevator. What if other people—"

"Do I look like I give a shit about other people? They can take the stairs for all I care." He interrupts me, voice raised a bit. I shake my head ever so hesitantly. "Now, do you want my cock or not?"

He slaps my thigh when I don't respond to him immediately, so I nod as fast as I can.

"Yes, I want it. Please." I look at him, and he leans in to kiss me again. This time it's harsh, and sloppy and needy, the passion having turned into a rough fire that can only be put out with a hard fuck.

He stops the kiss, aligns himself with my pussy, and then pushes himself into me. I let out a shameless cry at the feeling of his dick gliding into me. It's so easy because of how wet I am, and I like how big he is and how it hurts the first minute.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've dreamed of this, love." He starts out slow, knowing his size is something to get used to, but I want none of that.

"Go faster, Harry. I don't care if it hurts, I just want you." I gasp into his mouth in between kisses, and he groans loudly before pushing himself into me with a sharp trust that gives me a burning feeling in my core. It's like I've turned a switch, because Harry's pace is unbelievable and I find it might be too much to handle. Every thought I have fades away until the only thing I can think about is him.

I moan like we're in an isolated room and watch his beautiful face and the curls that fall in front of his face because of the harshness of the thrusts.

"Ah! Fuck, fuck, Harry!" The only words I'm able to articulate from all that are flying through my brain.

"Thaaat's it baby. You get what you asked for " He smirks, his fingers finding their way to my clit. I cry out from the moment he starts to rub circles on it, and I know I won't last very long anymore.

"Are you gonna cum for me already, baby? Are you gonna cream all over my thick cock?" He asks and I can't help but scream out. My tits are almost spilling out of my top because of the way Harry's fucking me against this wall.

"Yes, yes, please! I'm gonna—" I can't even finish my sentence before my orgasm takes ahold of my body, mind and soul. My walls are pulsating around Harry and I'm pulling on his hair for some kind of support as I fall apart. I try to catch my breath, but I'm not able to because Harry drills into me even harder than before.

"H– Harry what are you, oh..." My eyes roll to the back of my head at the amount of stimulation that I'm currently feeling. My grip on his head loosens and I slowly start becoming nothing but a rag doll for him to fuck stupid.

"You're mine now." He growls, and I nod at him, too out of breath to say anything. "And I'm going fuck you until I cum inside your sweet pussy, and you'll hold it in there until we get to your apartment. Do you understand?"

I nod at his request, but he isn't pleased with that. He wraps one of his hands around my neck and squeezes ever so slightly.

"I said: do you understand?"

"I understand." I sputter out, and with that he is back to pounding himself into me. He doesn't take his time, and I know it's because he needs this release just as much as I do. His thumb finds its way to my button again and he continues rubbing and rubbing until I'm nothing but a shivering mess under him.

"Look at you, getting fucked stupid in an elevator by your boyfriend. Such a little slut, all for– fuck! All for me, huh?" He rambles and nothing but words of agreement leave my mouth at his dirty words as I feel my legs tremble with the arrival of a second orgasm.

I push Harry's face against mine to muffle my own scream, but the way he moans into me doesn't quite help my case.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum, baby." He says, and I gather all my mental strength to return some of that dirty talk he's been providing me with.

"Cum for me, please. I need it so fucking bad, baby. Make me yours." I mewl and his thrusts become more erratic with every word I utter, and by the time I'm done talking, I feel the hot spurts of his cum coating my walls.

We're both unable to talk for a minute. We stand there, catching our breath with our foreheads pressed against each other.

"I'm gonna pull out, baby." Harry says after another minute of coming back to earth. I nod tiredly, and hiss as he removes his dick from me. He slowly lowers my legs to the ground, but I hold on tight to his neck because my legs need a few seconds to adjust to holding up my entire body weight.

Harry puts on his pants again and shimmies down my skirt for me before pushing the emergency stop. The elevator goes up almost immediately, but it feels like forever, especially with the feeling of Harry's cum starting to leak out of me. I do my best to hold it in, but it's hard when your legs have just done the most intense work-out they've ever done in their entire life.

When the elevator door opens on my floor, we are met with another couple, who looks at us with a frown when met with the state of us. It doesn't help that the elevator smells like sex now, so we walk out as quickly as we can, Harry adding a cheeky 'goodnight' before we rush to my door.

We both burst into laughter the second the elevator closes and I open my front door for us to get in. Once inside, Harry picks me up and Carrie's me to my couch, where he lays me down on my back. He lies on top of me, partly holding himself up so I don't crush under him, and gives me a deep, long kiss.

His hands stroke through my hair as our lips brush against each other. It's delicate and I could cry at the softness of it all. Harry pulls out of the kiss to analyze my face. He takes in every feature, as do I, and after a bit of silence he speaks up.

"I can't believe you let me have you." He says, those stars in his eyes that I love so much.

"I can't believe your parents don't know Leila's gay."

That makes him laugh, and in time me, because his laugh is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, apart from his moans.

"You liked me for three years." I state what he said earlier, and he nods a genuine nod.

"Three and half, to be exact."

"You're crazy." I shake my head with a chuckle.

"Deal with it. Your boyfriend is a crazy guy." He says and kisses my neck again, before moving away from me.

"Where are you going?" I ask with a frown, not happy with him just going away out of nowhere. I roll my eyes when he hikes up my skirt once again and starts kissing my thigh.

"Harry, I already came two times. I don't know if I'll be able to come."

"Ssh, baby. Just want a taste." He says before attaching his mouth to my clit. I let out a shriek at how intense the feeling is, especially in regards to the sensitivity of my clit.

I become a moaning mess right away, and my hand finds its way to his hair. He sucks and licks long stripes all over my pussy. He lifts his face for a moment, mouth and nose glistening with our arousal and pushes two of his fingers further and further into my mouth. I suck on them with a satisfied moan, until he retracts them and shoved them into my already filled up hole.

"Oh, m– oh my god!" I whimper as his fingers pump in and out of me, and he knocks me out of the park when he starts flicking his tongue over my clit.

I know my orgasm is closing in, but I've never experienced three orgasms in one night before, and I have to say I'm slightly scared of this one. Everything feels so intense that I don't know how I'm going to react to this third one.

A string of curses and moans are the only thing that leave my mouth as I shut my eyes so tight that I swear I see stars, and my entire body pulsates as he helps me ride out my high. I don't even have the strength to open my eyes until Harry gets back on eye level with me.

"Open your eyes baby." He whispers, his fingers caressing my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I whine incoherently.

"I know love, I know. I'll get you all cleaned up and then we' go to sleep, alright." He tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek before getting up and scooping me up from the couch. I already feel awake enough to walk myself, but I keep quiet so he can carry me to my bathroom.

He strips both of us from our clothes and turns on the shower. He cleans me up, even though I insist I do it myself, and afterwards he also fancies himself in charge of what I'm wearing to bed. He picks out a simple, oversized Metallica t-shirt I got from my dad, and helps me put it on before getting into bed with me.

I have to say I am quite sleepy, so my eyes fall shut quite easily. Harry keeps on playing with my now wet hair, making me even more drowsy.

"I won't mess this up." He says, mostly to himself, I think. But I respond anyway.

"I won't let you."

[maxsimagination]

𝗵𝘂𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀.𝗸𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗶

summary: even after a year of dating, playing against your girlfriend doesn’t get any easier

𖦹 masterlist

𝗜𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗡𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗬 day to say the least.

one of my least favourite days during the season. i had to go up against sakina.

it was psg vs lyon, and both me and sakina were in the starting eleven for our respective teams.

we started dating last year. both of us got called up for national team duties, to represent france in the world cup. that was when we first properly met and, thanks to elisa, started dating.

elisa and i met when i was on loan to montpellier in the 2020/21 season. since then we'd kept in touch often.

now in the 2023/24 season, sakina and i had been together for a whole year and two days. we had celebrated our anniversary with a recreation of our first date, same restaurant and everything.

but during the season, there was a few times where we came up against each other. whether it be for the champions league or the french division, it had to happen.

i always got nervous about these games because the little voice in my head would tell me that something might change between us after we played. nothing had ever changed in the year we'd been dating and come up against each other it that didn't stop me from over thinking.

——

on the pitch, i could see both sakina and elisa ready and waiting in the psg defence for the whistle to blow.

when it did, i was the first to shoot forward with the ball. being a striker didn't help when your girlfriend was a defender. there was bound to be some tackles involved.

and eventually it did.

in the 70th minute, both me and sakina had stayed on, as expected.

i was running down the middle of the field, having intercepted a pass from two of the psg strikers. i ducked and weaved through the defenders and i was almost at the edge of the box when i noticed sakina out of the corner of my eye.

just as i took the shot at the goal, sakina came sliding in and took my ankles out.

i landed on the ground with a thud and all the air left my lungs. i didn't move for a while, just trying to get my breath back, but then the medics came rushing in.

i didn't think i needed them but let them do their thing anyway.

i could see sakina standing nearby, trying to see if i was okay. i was but i was a bit mad with her. she didn't have to take my ankles with her in her attempt to clear the ball.

when the medics cleared out and i stood up, sakina came up to me.

"what the hell was that for?"

i spoke first. i knew that it was a game and she had to defend but that tackle really took the life out of me for a bit there.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to take you out too."

"whatever. let's just play the game."

i walked away and returned to my position. the game went on and lyon ended up winning 3-0 including the shot that i got in before sakina tackled me.

after we won, most of the girls did a couple laps to greet the fans. i made a couple laps before heading back to the lockers. freshly showered and dressed in the clothes i arrived in, i walked back into the communal hallways.

however, just as i was walking out, sakina walked in and she whisked me into an adjacent room.

that room happened to be a physio room, thank goodness no one was in there.

"yn, i am so sorry about the tackle. i truly did not mean to take you down like that. if i could go back and change anything, i probably wouldn't make that tackle at all."

that last bit stunned me.

"you'd let me take the goal?"

"yes."

"really?"

"yes, yn. i'd rather loose a game of football than have you injured. please forgive me."

i didn't see how i could still be mad at her after that so of course i forgave her. i nodded at sakina and was  about to verbalise my feelings when she kissed me.

her lips were soft as always and she easily slipped her tongue into my mouth.

i tried to keep it pg, so pulled away after a bit with a grin.

"let's wait until we're home to start something like this, yea amour?" (love.)

[da-mous]

I roamed the woods for... a long time. I wish I could say I knew where I was going, but I only knew what I was going away from

The narrowed gazes of the animals, suspicious of my presence just like the people back at home, were almost ignorable when viewed through the thick mist of the forest

Only at night would they finally spring out from behind the trees and sink their teeth into my neck, their intentions revealing themselves into my windpipe

And then I would wake up intact on the forest floor, awake again

The mist always floated a few feet off the ground, and so laying down on the ground I could see clearly how the animals looked at me through the leaves. And so I would stand up, put my head back in the mist, and wander off to wherever I thought I was going

That was how it went for... a long time. Until I met a river, and a woman rowing her canoe upstream all by herself. Ten years of exhaustion were etched on her face, and yet she beamed with a wide-eyed joy as she first laid eyes upon me

She trusted me immediately, bringing her canoe over to the shore to meet me. I climbed in without a second thought, and I took the oars from her weary hands

I don't know what I did to deserve her trust, but she fell asleep soon after letting me take over. I would watch her as she slept, building a vision in my mind of where we must be going, the life we might build wherever we'd end up. And then she would wake up and take the oars, and I would take my turn to sleep

In my sleep, the canoe would crack open underneath me, and I would fall into the water. My body would quickly be covered in starving leeches, taking from my body what they needed

And then I would wake up, canoe solid underneath me, to see my partner rowing, and I wouldn't let another second pass before I took her burden from her

Months wore on like that, and over time she would sleep longer, and I would row longer. It was peaceful watching her sleep. She wouldn't panic or writhe or groan like I do when I sleep. It felt good to take on such a large share of the rowing. It felt like the animals, and maybe even the people back at home, were wrong for looking at me the way they did. My partner would get to sleep peacefully for longer and I would spend less time with the leeches and more time with her. I was sure, too, that once she caught up on her sleep she would do the same for me

The river stretched on for months, through the same forest every minute of every day of its length. Gradually, however, the river itself became steeper, faster. My partner would sleep for days at a time, and from the time she dozed off to the time she awoke I would only have moved us a few feet at most. She would wake up and kiss me, a loving, easy smile on her face. She never seemed to notice the increasing strain of the river, the weight of the oars, the exhaustion on my face

One day, while she was sound asleep, I started nodding off, and then I was falling through the canoe again, and the leeches were draining what they needed from me again. They emptied my body completely, and then they dragged it up the river, through the woods, until the end of time, and then they kept dragging still, and then

I startled awake to see her still asleep. There was no telling how much progress we'd lost on the river while I was out. Or maybe we'd never made any in the first place. I gave her a kiss on her forehead while she slept, and then, after a deep breath, I jumped into the water and swam back to the riverside. I watched her float down the river until she disappeared completely around a bend, and then I returned to the forest

[bloodyarn]

𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 . unprompted interactions

@bloodtwin : Bad idea. Yes, this is probably a BAD IDEA, yet here Puck stands outside Babette's tent, hands behind his back. There is a nervous energy to him (as there so often is) as he fidgets, one boot digging into the dirt. He has been going back and forth and back and forth on whether he should just turn on his heels, ditch this dangerously stupidly bad idea, or not. But then the seamstress leaves her tent, making the final decision for him. His back straightens, shoulders tense. ❝ O-oh  ！❞ His tail sways low to the ground. She looks pretty. ❝ Hey, I was just about to, uh ⸻ ❞ Freshly-trimmed claws scratch behind one of his ears. This isn't really something he does. Doesn't understand the appeal of it. Or, at least, he didn't until about five minutes ago when he passed by a rose bush. Something must have POSSESSED him, for he plucked a single, red rose from the bunch, cut the thorns & found his way over to Babsi's tent. He takes the rose from behind his back, holding it out for her. Heat builds in his face. ❝ Well, I wanted to give you this because it made me think of you. And, uh- the weather is nice today, so I thought maybe you'd like to join me on a picnic ？❞ Like a date. He never does that, either. ❝ We'd have to- well, there's a bakery nearby. I thought we could pick up somethin' sweet to eat there first. There's a little hill over there with a nice, shady tree. We could . . . um, have a picnic there, if you'd like. ❞

      A  charming,  warm  day  indeed.       Her  little  head  had  come  up  with  plan  of  spending  the  day  outside   &   funnily  enough,  the  weather  dragged  Puck  outside  as  well.  It's  not  like  they  never  crossed  paths  at  camp,  quite  the  opposite.  Way  too  often  to  call  it  'casual  walking  by'  did  Babette  saunter  past  the  half-elf's  tent  (  out  of  curiosity,  of  course  )  .  The  lady  would  be  lying  if  she  wasn't  about  to  do  exactly  that  when  leaving  her  temporary  makeshift  home.

Puck  was  quick  to  greet  her   &   before  the  hexblood  uttered  a  'hello'  in  return,  there  was  a  flower  in  his  hand  ;  he  stretched  out,  offering  the  rose  to  her.     ❝  For  me  ? ❞   He  thought  of  her  when  he  saw  it   ?   That  was  so  unusually  romantic,  did  he  even  realize  the  implications  .  .  .

      ❝ Oh,  thank  you  so  much   !   Not  a  bad  petal  on  it  as  well.  You  must  have  an  eye  for  the  little  things. ❞       Giggled  the  seamstress  before  carefully  accepting  the  rose,  angling  it,  noticing  the  thorns  were  chipped  off  neatly.  And  next,  he  spoke  about  a  picknick,  a  trip  to  the  nearby  bakery  ;  he  described  her  dream  date  there.  How  did  he  know  .  .  .

And  it  dawned  on  her   —   date.  That  sounded  like  a  rendezvous.  With  Puck.  If  her  stomach  didn't  jump  as  it  did,  Babette  was  almost  sure  it  would  growl  from  hunger.  A  sweet  treat   —   ugh,  how  long  since  the  last  piece  of  cake  ?       ❝  You  saw  one   ?   Oh,  and  you  did  not  tell  me   ?   I  feel  betrayed   ! ❞       Fiddling  with  the  flower   &   tucking  it  between  her  bow   &   blouse.       ❝  We  should  not  wait  too  long,  then.  We  .  .  .  we  get  some  sweets   &   maybe  we  could  eat  them  under  that  tree  you  mentioned   ?   Sounds  .  .  .  sounds  nice.  Very  nice.  I  would  enjoy  that. ❞

[fallingblueroses]

More from Dragon Syndrome AU. No real action, just a quiet evening.

***

The day passed quietly. Kathy busied herself with altering her and Geoff's shirts to accomodate their wings and Geoff stayed in his studio to get what work he could done. They spent the evening with William, and after he went to bed they sat quietly holding each other for reassurance. There wasn't really much to talk about.

Geoff watched the eleven o'clock news with Kathy until he couldn't stand it anymore. He went out into his backyard for some peace and quiet, found a chair he could get comfortable in, and looked up at the night sky.

Twenty-six states were now reporting Dragon Syndrome, and as Geoff had feared panic was beginning to simmer. Several states, Florida among them, had reverted to online schooling. California and New York were on full lockdown. A person with Dragon Syndrome had been shot dead in Kentucky. Politicans were arguing, and religious leaders were already screaming that the Syndrome was God's punishment on America. There was some speculation that it was a man-made virus, but why anyone would want to give people wings and horns was beyond Geoff.

After a bit of thinking he stood up and stretched his wings. It felt as natural to him as spreading his arms. He had to admit he was curious to see if he could actually fly. Not that he really knew how, of course.

Well, I'm not going to find out just standing here. He thought for a moment, then ran for a few steps and jumped as he flapped his wings. He rose faster than he'd anticipated, and dropped back to the ground in surprise. I'm not sure I like that at all. He put a hand on his queasy stomach to settle it as he climbed back to his feet.

"Hey, Geoff!" The call came from above, and he looked up to see Cesar descending in a flurry of black wings like his own. He grinned as he showed off his claws and ran a hand over his horns. "How do I look?"

A wry grin came to Geoff's lips. "Better than I do. When did it hit you?"

"This afternoon, but I knew what was happening so I just went to bed and rode it out." He looked at Geoff. "First flight didn't go so well, huh?"

"No. Surprised you didn't get shot on your way over."

"Eh. I wasn't the only one in the air. It's hit more people than I thought." Another grin. "Going to give it another shot?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to break my legs, that's why not."

"Aw, come on. It'll be fun. Just imagine how romantic it would be soaring up in the night sky with Kathy. You'd stop to give her a kiss--"

"And we'd plummet to the ground in a heap. No thanks. Besides, I don't think she wants to fly any more than I do right now."

"Aww." Cesar pouted dramatically.

Geoff couldn't help but smile. "Come on in for a drink."

"Sure." He followed Geoff into the house. Kathy wasn't in the living room, and Geoff thought that she must have gone to bed.

They went into the kitchen and Geoff poured each of them a shot of whiskey. He drank his at a gulp and resisted the urge for another; it probably wouldn't be a good idea to get drunk about now.

Cesar drank his more slowly. "So do you think we'll start breathing fire?"

Geoff chuckled. "Considering how much of my stuff is flammable, I hope not." He studied Cesar. "Have you tried to be human again?"

Cesar shook his head. "Not yet. I want to find out more about this. Like what kind of cool powers we have." He finished his shot.

"Cesar, it's a virus, not a magic spell."

"Are you sure?" Cesar teased.

"I'm sure it's not magic." Geoff sighed. "I'm just worried about what might happen."

"You're always overthinking things."

"Someone needs to."

"But it doesn't always have to be you. Come on, relax, try flying again with me." He tugged at Geoff's hands.

"I have to stay and guard my family."

He kept tugging. "They'll be fine. Come on, come on, come on."

Geoff had to chuckle again. "Where do you get all your energy?"

"It's a family secret." He pulled Geoff back out of the house. Once they were in the backyard, Cesar took off from a standstill and called back. "See? Easy peasy!"

"Lemon squeezy," Geoff muttered. But he managed to take off as Cesar had.

"Woo-hoo!" Cesar cheered. "There you go!"

"Cesar, the neighbors are sleeping!" But that became less of a concern as they flew higher. Geoff had to admit that it was exciting to be moving freely through the air as he was. He looked down at his neighborhood, keeping track of where they were.

Cesar's grin couldn't have been wider. "Think of all the great videos we can make now! We can do our own aerial shots and everything! And no more having to glue horns on!"

Geoff rolled his eyes, but he smiled. He wasn't the least bit surprised at Cesar's reaction to the Syndrome. The younger man's ability to find joy in absolutely everything was a wonder, and Geoff hoped Cesar never lost that.

[catwhoisawizard]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt 12: "Quarry"

Rays of light pierce through the canopy of the Black Shroud, the sun hanging low in the eastern sky behind the trees, and dew still clinging to everything. A young hunter stalks through the underbrush, their skin pale and their hair and fur gray speckled with small black patches. Their ears dart back and forth, tracking every little sound, and while most of their tail hangs motionless behind them, the very tip flicks back and forth.

Up ahead is a clearing in the trees, a small grotto of long grass and bushes surrounding pile of small boulders. Atop one of them is a man wearing a black and white robe, with short, pointed Viera ears, black hair and fur, and a Miqo'te tail curled around him as he sits cross-legged, his eyes closed in meditation.

The hunter creeps ever closer, darting from tree to tree, making only the slightest noise as they approach the edge of the clearing. There they wait for a few moments, analyzing the terrain and formulating the optimal angle of approach. They move forward into the grass, stalking across the open ground with precision until they are at the edge of the boulder pile.

The man remains motionless.

The hunter resumes the approach, one quiet step at a time.

The peaceful silence of the glade is broken by a snap off in the trees somewhere.

The man's left ear flicks in the direction of the sound.

The hunter is frozen in place, as if time itself had stopped. For what feels like an entire bell, they dare not even draw a breath.

After listening for several second, the man's ear returns to it's resting position.

The hunter makes the final few steps, putting themself in position on the boulder just next to and slightly above where the man is sitting. A moment passes. They pounce, tackling the man from his perch atop the rock.

"Ahhh!" The man tumbles into the grass below, the hunter falling in a pile on top of him. "Help! I've been ambushed by a vicious predator!" He grins up at the little hunter, who clambers into a cross-legged sitting position atop his chest.

"That's right, I got you Kjet!" The hunter replies, their huge grin beaming back at him.

"You sure did. Now what brings you all the way out here Hhem?"

"Oh yeah, Mom says breakfast will be ready soon, so she sent me to get you."

"And get me you certainly did!" Kjet pushes himself up to standing as Hhemetso gets off his chest. "We'd best not keep Mother waiting then, hm?"

"Yeah, she's gonna give us the look if we get back and the eggs are already cold."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that. How about we race?"

Hhem's eyes light up. "Yeah!" They bolt in the direction they came.

"Not even a countdown, you little miscreant?" he scoffs, grinning from ear to ear as he takes off after his little sibling.

[rose-arwen-padme]

Suppression

The forbidden tale of Anakin and Padmé's AOTC courtship. A detailed expansion covering the movie, known deleted scenes, and many new scenes. If George showed 20% of their screen time, this is the other 80%. Told in Padmé's POV with ROTS awareness. Written for the enduring fans of Anidala.

Prologue

I don't possess the Force ability to influence minds, but my time as Queen, as Senator, and as Anakin's obsession has taught me there is power to be found in the consequence of my words.

Scrutinizing outsiders have judged my relationship with Anakin from the beginning. Our tale is like a misunderstood creature in a zoo, the spectators pressing their noses up at us on the glass. They gape with their pointed fingers. They're vocal with their opinions and privileged hindsight of how they would've handled the twists and turns differently.

They're unaware, or uncaring, of the elevated audience rows they hurl their uninvited speeches from.

Such detractors single out the warning signs as bombastic, obvious signs of doom. How resourceful they are at finding fuel for the fires they burn us in. As if blinded by these flames of their own creation, they do not pause to view their kindling as the moments they were as we lived them. What to us was one rough conversation in an endless day— our bodies and minds perhaps taxed from duties, unending travel, or even grief, mixed with natural hindrances like hunger, lack of sleep, etc— or a passing disagreement which was returned to after we'd had a chance to process and re-frame… to them, all of it only became chopped and isolated historical fodder. I imagine it's quite effortless to throw sentiments like stones at these events when you know they are events and understand their future importance.

How nice it must be, to absorb and contextualize simultaneously with the big picture... As the great Master Yoda might say, we had not that luxury.

Stand and judge me. Stand and judge Anakin. Force knows we both deserve it, to various degrees. It's easy to pass down the verdict when you weren't caught up in the wave yourself, hijacked in body and mind by forces beyond your control. We were all of us— and I include Obi-Wan in this— just trying to navigate each day as it came, doing the best we could with the information we had at the time. And so, I'll charge you to remember: Even the combined insight of the mighty Jedi Council never saw this coming. How could I be expected to?

{Are you an angel?}

No one knows the full story— our true story.

In terms of emotional presentation, what is the opposite of a highlight reel?

We were inexperienced, the both of us, and it handicapped us in precarious ways. Regardless, the cliché old adage stands frightfully true— when you know, you know, and Fate does not make allowances for how unprepared you are when It comes. We're told in romantic holomovies and wispy fables that such sudden, deep knowledge of finding your soul's intended sweeps you off your feet, making you dizzy with the butterflies and happy certainty of love.

We lacked such rapturous fortune.

Our recognition of fate came dosed in fear. It was absolute certainty wrapped tightly in nothing but the uncertain on all sides, with no air to breathe. It was the sudden lurch from familiar, solid ground to standing on the edge of a wet precipice, the wind ready to push us over at any moment. So we fought it. I swear it on the barren wasteland of all I hold dear— we did try. We fought it, until we… we couldn't. Until we had no choice but to either forfeit our sanity and suppress, or to give in to the abyss and hope we came out the other side whole.

We chose to hope.

Hope has always moved this galaxy forward. Always will. But in its progression, some get crushed beneath the wheel.

I would never separate my fate from my husband's. However, if I am allowed to speak in my own defense, he was far more prepared than I when destiny reunited us on Coruscant. He'd had a decade to process, to accept, to plan, to commit. I was late to the game. Popular thought seems to be that Anakin was the rash one— the unmanageable wild bull— and I the level-headed stoic. But I can never say enough how much I regret the pain I caused him, and the precious time wasted, as he struggled to stabilize me in the chaos alongside him. He knew we were inevitable from the first moment I stepped foot in Watto's shop. For a man infamously known for his lack of it, his patience as he waited for me to catch up to him was nothing short of astonishing. Albeit, that patience was far from perfect.

This realization of fate for a pair when thrust upon individuals in two very different stages of acceptance of it does not make for an easy-breezy love story. There were milestone moments that didn't play out like the glossy holomovies. Mutual inexperience coupled with raw intensity, making for clumsy actions and unpolished words.

But then there were those magical instances, which, unrestrained from knowing any better and ignited by our hungry want to experience, actually far surpassed possibility.

Those that would label us a toxic cocktail of abruptly rushed feelings and dramatic declarations knew scraps of the story. The closest people around us— the select few who knew— barely understood us, what we were to each other. The Jedi didn't even want to try.

So much has happened to him. To me. To us. I shoulder my share of blame without contest.

But I draw the line at any who would reduce us to shallow caricatures.

We were playful. We teased. We laughed. Oh, how Anakin could make me laugh. We bonded over losses, helping each other through grief. We fought— furiously. We made sacred amends. We peeled back sides of ourselves we hadn't yet shared with another soul. And we desired. Gods, Anakin and I desired like we'd invented it. We burned for each other like two stars going nova under our very skins, a touch both acting as the curative relief and as the explosive trigger for craving more. Professionals in the Red District of Coruscant practice for years to do with their entire bodies what we could do to each other with a single look. 'Boring' was not a word in our relationship's vocabulary.

I've been accused of falling for him too fast, before I really knew him. Such a charge is wrong on two counts. First, I knew exactly who Anakin Skywalker was when I married him. I saw firsthand glimpses of the wraith that would consume him long before most others did— even Obi-Wan. But, just as clearly, I likewise saw the good, the exorbitant amount of light in him that others failed to see. Even Obi-Wan.

And second, I did not fall for Anakin. One does not meet with the life-altering experience which made me feel more alive than anything ever had before and call it a fall. It will be difficult for the hindsight spectators with their superiority complexes to believe, but Anakin brought more excitement, passion, and joy into my life than anything I had ever known. Whether running a planet or a blockade, the nervous energy of addressing the Galactic Senate, or being surrounded in a war zone, it was all paltry compared to the rush I'd feel when his gaze simply met mine across a room. One does not fall for a man, a lover, a— forgive me, but— born pilot like Anakin Skywalker. I flew.

I acutely know this because the fall did come, only much, much later. By that point, the glorious height to which we'd soared became fatal once the descent began.

There are plenty who would have my Ani suffer eternally in hell for his crimes. I am not here to invalidate their reasons, nor to silence their cries for justice. I know what he has done. If they get their wish, my only request is this— let his same flames engulf me as well.

For this angel will gladly burn in hell by his side.

Continued at AO3 Link and Fanfiction.Net Link

[blindrapture]

SUNDAY JULY 31ST, 2011 (Ground and Pound)

12:22AM Buck wasn't ready to go in yet, so we agreed to scout ahead. Past the drawbridge, past a dark entrance tunnel, the ceiling gives way to an open-air interior inside the castle walls. A fleet of stables on our left, a whole cottage industry of dyes and textiles on our right. Tubs of goop big enough for several to stand in. Few people were still around, having heard the fight going on at their front door. There were some old women, horns on their heads too, stomping their feet in the goop, and some making odd crafts, who eyed us with disdain but paid us no more attention. The faint thumping of Legsteps caused a woman to raise her fist at the air and shout something in a foreign language. Probably a curse, a demand to turn the music off. We've found no guards yet, though. No cause for hostility. Donnie took a look at the stables and found perfectly ordinary horses, goats, pigs. But there's also one other type of animal she'd never seen before, looked like a big cat with udders. Taking the left turn to reach the stables, then turning right again, we're faced with a long path lain with red carpet, passing four big doors on both sides, leading up to a door as big as the castle entrance. That's the keep with the big spire. I'm pretty sure that's where our boss battle's hiding. The door will not open for us. No door will, in fact. So, we're in a big open-roof h. Entered on the bottom-right. Stables on the bottom-left. The textile workers are in the curve on the right. Final stretch is top-left. And, this being a castle, the tall walls have battlements where I keep expecting to see guards looking down on us from above. But nothing. No dead bodies lining the streets. No massive instruments of war staring us down to shoot flaming cannonballs. No crowd of people gathered around wizards warning against witchcraft, pointing at us in righteous indignation. I was even partly expecting an entire army of giant halberd horsemen, looking angrily in our direction, as soon as we came in. Donnie and I took the peace as an opportunity to rest up. We found a pile of hay and sat together, taking in the sights, watching the black grid in the sky drift slowly in a direction, like clouds. We settled on our plan for the Cipher: We'd get to the king, maybe ahead of Buck if at all possible, and explain our situation. We'd neutralize Buck together and ask the king for a way out. My sword's gotta be good for something. Then we got to talking about the history mentioned in parchment 3. This world went through a red sky. A 'plague' came through their doors. It dethroned their-- took their God, and turned an entire kingdom into walking piles. Neither of us is sure whether that's the fate that awaits our world, but it's gotta be talking about the same kind of thing. This kingdom went through the Rapture. And our gods are frightened for their lives.

12:32 AM Buck has joined us. "Did you two see that creepy fuckin' hallway on the way in, off to the side?" Creepy hallway? o_o

12:36 AM Back at the entrance, in the dark entrance tunnel, we had obviously passed an open door. Looking through it, there's just a distant lantern on a table on the other side of black passage.

12:37 AM As we approach the table, we can hear something whirring and tapping. Music preparing to drop. The table has a piece of parchment on it, and a lever. "Good cavaliers. You stand within Castle True. After the plague that befell my land, I had my most trusted diseuse cast her Rhetorics on the castle to disguise its nature, as mine people deserved not to have to see themselves as they now had become. However, only the true are permitted entrance to my throne room, and so my door is sealed as long as the disguise holds. You will have to see what lies beneath the veil. Once you pull that lever, it will begin. Can you put a price on peace?" ...we're looking at each other. the music is. bubbling under the surface. Donnie's reaching for the lever.

12:39 AM hard guitars. chugging monotone. blasting drums. syncopated. freaky shrieking synth. techno horror metal. the lights are on. electric bulbs. now we see the bodies. lining the walls. they're melted together. people fused at the hip. the head. the arm. the chest. some bodies going through others', some bodies terminating where the next person's body begins. and not a single cut, it's all unbroken skin. their eyes are open, looking at us. mouths agape, unable to shut. they are the walls. feet touching the floor. buck threw up a little. let's. let's go.

12:40 AM on the way out, a leg tripped donnie. we grabbed her and pulled her the rest of the way, doing our best to ignore the arms reaching out. out in the main entrance hall, it's not much better. the walls here are breathing in and out. not quite regular, but that's worse, that makes it pretty clear there's a will inside there, consciously breathing. going out into the castle proper, can already see the sky is no longer a grid. it's just bruise and a texture like congealed liquids that don't mix. makes me think of bile and blood pooling around bits of cartilage. no grid. no order. the castle is shrieking. the old women were leaving us alone out of necessity, as their lower halves are melted into the fleshy ground. they look like slugs. there are guards, plenty of guards, but they were absorbed into the ground, and now they emerge, pushed out by peristalsis, also with melted lower halves, frozen to the spot, only able to move their arms, which they use to aim their bows. I don't want to make out the expressions on their faces, there is no good option. donnie "let's. get to the. throne room. now." buck "don't have to tell me twice." big sigh, steeling himself.

12:44 AM those arrows are not wood, nor steel, they are sharpened teeth. buck has tipped over a vat of.. clothes dye??? and lifted it over the three of us to form a shield. one of the old women cursed at us. her mouth opened wider than the vat. I thought she was going to swallow us. instead she launched black phlegm which missed us and sizzled into the ground, bubbling and melting a hole. go. go. go. gotta round the corner. get past the... stables. that's a giant liquid mass of animal. neighing, braying, growling, all at once. body parts swim around in the mass freely. it's pressing against the gates. the gates will not hold. but they're holding long enough for us to read another piece of parchment. "Good cavaliers. The red sky brought us a plague of flesh."

12:49 AM The gates burst. Goop barrelled out, the animals inside pulling the mass in every direction, ultimately resulting in a writhing flood charging back and forth, hitting the walls again and again. The force of a flood combined with the panic of a stampede of confused animals. We fucking ran. Ditched the vat. The mass spilled onto the red carpet first, so we had to turn back and push our way into the peasants' quarters behind the textiles and dyes, slipping past the immobile old women screaming in terror. A doorway gave way into an interior of yet more gross suffering. Greeting us were more people plastered into growths on the walls, but at least the door shut behind us.

12:50 AM "guh!" oh. there's a blacksmith here, one foot fused with his anvil. he's. he's still able to move with it, dragging it screechingly across the floor. his eyes are frantic, bloodshot. his beard is crusted to his apron. he wields a large hammer. and we don't have much space to dodge him without getting within reach of the arms and mouths on the walls. buck shouted "FUCK THIS!" and grabbed at the blacksmith's hammer. he can't disarm the smith. it is his arm. "YOU FUCKING ABOMINATIONS" "grah!!!!" hammer broke buck's leg. okay. donnie. this is easy. there's three of us, and now the blacksmith is distracted. stay calm. and rush him.

12:51 AM "grrrggl" sword through the chest. frying pan concussion. only vomited a little afterwards. buck thanked us. but I don't know what he can do with his dead leg. "C'mon, kids... I can still fight!! It's nothing, just a leg!" he's getting freaked because there is a serious opportunity here. and we're.. not immediately reassuring him. just looking at each other. sigh.

12:53 AM Donnie and I just told him to rest up. We're not gonna leave him, not here. But we found a staircase, and we need to have a look around. Up the stairs is the battlement, the path atop the castle walls. We have a good view of the scene below. The rampaging animal thing has scarpered out the castle entrance, leaving a trail of gunk on all the destroyed crates and barrels and detritus. The guards up on the battlements are turned to watch the animals outside the castle, see what they get up to. Donnie tapped my shoulder, pointed at a lookout tower nearby. She sees a parchment on the doorway. We've got to get there. But we will have to pass a few guards, and we will be noticed. ..she's pointed at my sword. Yeah, I guess that's fair.

12:54 AM the sword slices through the guards like butter! but all the other guards have noticed us and are taking aim so donnie's trying to shield against the arrows with her frying pan and I'm trying to hide behind dead guard bodies

12:55 AM at least the music is fucking awesome

12:56 AM hiding in the tower tip tip tap tap tap arrows hitting the wall we made it alright we still have to get back but for now we're alright. donnie, what does the parchment say. "Good cavaliers. An existence of pain and torment awaits all who dare challenge the terminal coming. The colossal sirens will sing your doom for the rest of your days, and those days will be long. Dost thou see them out there, encircling my castle? They play an infernal music that is eldritch to our ears. The music waiting for you will no doubt be worse, as every time the music must reprise, it has new values to incorporate, and a new understanding of 'music' to desecrate. I have spent my later years wondering, in vain, why this is to be. What force stands to benefit from torturing my domain? Does it benefit from torturing thine as well? What laws fuel its sadism? Your final challenge awaits just outside my throne room, in mine church. Remain mindful. I pray thou aren't digested on the way here." Wait, but then what was this challenge? donnie "'Remain mindful,' I suppose? The challenges inside the castle have been much more direct."

12:58 AM It did ask if we see the sirens outside the castle. We're in a lookout tower. May as well look! "Yeah, it's the Legsteps. I can see them. Are they breathing fire?" marching, evenly-paced, along the bay. engulfed in an eternal flame as they blast out heavy screeching metal. the fire shoots out rhythmically, I suspect it's just being propelled by the force of the speakers. "Better than dubstep, I guess, but so much more destructive. ..oh my god." what "Look at the moon." ...oh, that's not a moon. o_o That's an eyeball, staring right at the castle. "It doesn't look like an animal's eye or an insect's or anything, it looks almost human." But a lot more complex than a human's. Like this is what our eyes might evolve into, hundreds of thousands of years from now. Multiple layers of iris, veins rotating and interweaving in the white. "The sky makes me feel like we're inside a giant organ, so that'd be an eyeball in the organ, monitoring--" okay I don't want to think about that part. "What, too gross?" all of this is hitting on a deeper phobia of mine. "This is how the denizens of this castle have had to live, though. No wonder they needed a veil over reality." can we just go now? "Back through the arrows?" yeah. we've still got work to do.

1:01 AM Back in the blacksmith's forge. Had to pull an arrow out of my leg. Buck's standing, using some wood as a makeshift crutch.

1:02 AM We filled him in on where we have to go next. We're willing to defend him from incoming arrows, as it helps a lot to have a big dude with us. He's.. starting to feel the fear. We're not in a good spot.

1:03 AM Donnie and I tipped over a wooden table and are holding it to shield us all, to the best of our abilities. I don't expect this to work the whole way, but. We've got to try. We're nearly there.

1:07 AM slow going, at buck's pace. we're not there yet. not rounding the corner yet, not at the red carpet yet. taking a quick break. then back to the grind. the table's.. sufficing. nobody's been hit yet. we're just freaking out a bit at how close the arrows are getting to our fingers.

1:12 AM turned the corner. the red carpet's a tongue. of course it is. the arrows have stopped. the guards are just watching us now. why oh. 'cause there's two halberd horsemen waiting at the door to the keep, at the other end of this long stretch. and with the disguise gone, we can see they're morphed into their horses, like hideous centaurs. their armor is grafted onto their skin, a sharp carapace. they roar. they hiss. they click. they stare us down. ohhhh god. donnie "I'll take the one on the left." r. really? "you take the one on the right." we're doing this? "don't doubt us now, jordan. we can do this. we have to." sigggghhhhh. u_u "buck, you back us up however you can, but we'll keep their attention." sword at the ready. "let's rip and tear."

1:13 AM SLASH swipe dodge NEIGGGGHHHHH wait SLASH WHIIIIIIINNNNYYYYYYYYYY take the fucking horse legs out eliminate his mobility STRIKE at his halberd pushhh back sword knocked out of my hands uh uh buck grabbed the centaur's head exerting great effort snapped his neck. "fucking hate these bastards."

1:14 AM donnie's having some trouble, as she just has a blunt weapon now we can back her up slice the horse's legs buck grabbed the halberd, can't rip it out as it is the horseman's hands but he can hold it still while I send my sword through his head!!! and that's how you do it.

1:15 AM when we were all finished high-fiving each other and letting out our adrenaline, we remembered the next challenge is in a "church" outside the throne room. there's the closed door to the keep at the far end of this stretch, but there's four sets of doors on either side too. will have to just try them all.

1:21 AM first sets of doors were barracks. lots of soldiers grafted to their beds in a big connected system of flesh. shut that door immediately. second sets of doors were armories. I swapped out my rusted sword for a shinier one. donnie grabbed a big hammer. buck wanted a gun, but they don't have any of those. so he said he's fine with his fists. third sets of doors, however, were churches. two identical parallel churches. aisles of pews leading up to altars. the right-side church has a priest in a cloak waiting for us.

1:22 AM "Good cavaliers. You are here to challenge the king. I am Ponos, the king's trusted" deesus? diseuse. Well. Actually. We're here to protect the king, we don't want to decode the last Cipher. buck "You what?" ponos "Your party is not of one mind. This must be remedied, or else you will never make it out of this." buck, listen, man. yeah. we were never gonna kill the cipher. we're here because you guys, your buddies, were going to do it, and we needed to stop that from happening. buck "Why the fuck would you lie to us?" Well, we were hardly gonna be able to stop all four of you! Or even two of you! "Man, that's... fucked up. You really think the Ciphers are gonna make things worse?" I really do. Ponos, can you back me up here? Your world went through a red sky thing, didn't you guys have to do seven big things? "No?" donnie "I don't think anyone from this world ever went into the Doors in the first place." buck "See? If we don't do the Ciphers, this shit's still gonna happen!" ...wait, shit. You're right. That is what we've learned here. How the fuck does all this work?! Why is it so complicated? All these systems, all these sources with different stories! Goddammit, Tiresias! donnie "Ponos, sorry, can you tell us what's going on from your perspective?" ponos "My king has been tasked with serving as the seventh spectacle in an unholy procession, and you cavaliers are the ones we were told to wait for. You are here to kill the king. I am not to stop you in this; my task was to link my Rhetorics to the lever at the front of the castle." But what happens when we kill the king? "That is of little concern for me, as my world will be left leaderless and doomed. I suppose the unholy procession will.. continue." hnng. So, if we don't do this, Rapture will come regardless, as it seems to have come for you guys. And if we do do this, more wacky shit will happen on the way to Rapture. Is that even really a choice? We're choosing whether or not there'll be a party before armaggeddon. ponos "Think it through, good cavaliers. I can already identify the flaw in your logic; there is an obvious correct choice. Let this be your final challenge." fuck. okay. think it through, think it through. buck "One last party before the end? Isn't that better just for the fun of it? Dutch courage. Where's the fun in just lying down and dying?" She's saying the choices aren't actually equal, I think, so it's not just a party, it's not just a spectacle. ponos "I did not say that." Well. What are you saying? "I am saying that there is no such thing as 'just' a spectacle. The smallest difference is an opportunity." donnie "No such thing as 'just' a spectacle. A spectacle is a change, it's a game, it's a chance to stick a wrench in the system." Well, what kind of perfect apocalypse would allow for that? donnie "That's your assumption, that Rapture is perfect." I'm going off of what it's presented to us! ponos "You are going off of the spectacle, and that is precisely why powerful forces use spectacle. It's the strength of rhetoric. This red sky is powerful rhetoric, it is very convincing, but until you have seen for yourself, you cannot rely on the narrative provided by the spectacle." ....shit. I get it. I get it! o: It's the very fact that this apocalypse is using so much flashy shit that's why we should believe there's a crack we can tear open! ponos "Well, it's. It's why you should be curious about the possibility of a crack. It is entirely possible that there is no path to victory, in which case the spectacle exists to humiliate you. But the spectacle is a veil, it is an ambiguity. You cannot rely on an ambiguity." Okay. So. So we should kill the king. "You were not going to leave if you hadn't, regardless. It is my job to open the exit for you." ...you could have opened with that. "I needed to make sure you were all of one mind. You have made it this far. You have one thing left to do. The king will tear you apart if you have any doubts left."

1:26 AM Only one thing left to do… Open the doors to the keep.

1:27 AM "Good cavaliers…" There he is. A giant blue man on a giant throne in a giant chamber. Hard furry boots. Grey-green robe. Big fucking muscles with which to lift a giant golden mace. Eyes glowing green. The only sign that he's gone through the same flesh-melting as the rest of his people is the fact that his head terminates in a jagged crown of skin. He sits on his throne, one leg crossed over the other. The music has stopped. There's Legsteps at the walls, waiting for battle. In between them are stationed golden knights. "Welcome to the end of your quest. It must have been a great exertion, but I have some say in the structure of my realm here, and my kingdom's fate deserved a witness." We're so sorry this happened to you. "Thank you for saying so. May I ask your names?" I'm Jordan Dooling. This is Donnivan Rand. He's, uh. "Buck Stevens." "Good cavaliers, thank you." bow. "Before we begin, do you have any questions?" Uh. Actually, I'd like to know how you ended up as a Cipher. Did someone come and.. tell you that you'd be challenged? How did you take it? "The news came to me by my own God sometime after the plague of flesh ravaged my people. I had not seen my God ever since that began, and when He returned to me, I could see He was now a vessel of a far greater power. He told me that the will of the Infinite had chosen my world for a higher purpose, that I was to stand guard against coming challengers from other worlds, that I was chosen for this due to my incredible willpower and stature." Do you.. know why this all is? Why the fights? Why the challengers? "I was not told, as this was the will of a power I could not understand. Before the red sky, I would have taken the word of my God in trust, but seeing Him as He is now, just a mask for an infinite evil... I have formed my own ideas. This evil took my world, and it chose a form of attack that would overwhelm us. I have little doubt that it is using me as another form of attack against new victims." I think you're right. buck "We're not the first ones you've fought, are we?" "No. There have been others before you. Much time separates the fights, but I have never lost." grimace. I see. ...okay. I think we're ready. "I hope that you are." he's standing up. "Timor mortis conturbat me." wielding his mace. steel face. "May you fight true. May you will real." ..a health bar has appeared in my vision. atop it is a name. KING REAL

1:30 AM brass horns wobbling through the legsteps, chugging guitar. King Real's mace shakes the room when he slams it down. his attacks are slow but heavy. and he can dodge fast. he's focusing on Buck, whose bum leg keeps him slow. donnie and I are circling behind the king oh shit the golden knights are coming out into the fight wielding great two-handed swords fuck we've got to take care of this

1:32 AM keeping the knights at bay is working but we can't sustain this buck can't focus on getting a hit on the king because he's got to play evasive donnie's taken care of a knight but there's two more coming for her I've still got three

1:33 AM I now have two, and they're attacking one after the other donnie's taken care of all her knights and is going for the king that hammer must have been a better choice than my damn sword hrrrrggg fuck OFF you damn KNIGHTS

1:34 AM okay couldn't focus on either one but I chipped away at both of them and now they're both dead just in time to see King Real raise his mace high and bring it down on buck no scream, just a big crash shaking the room goddammit… bye bye buck. "Come, cavaliers! Is this the sum of your efforts?" donnie, we're gonna have to.. be smart you and me together one baits him, the other goes for the legs

1:37 AM we're whittling away at his health bar one of us runs in front and tries to attack, triggers him to wind up a swing, and the other waits until he's brought his mace down before we swing at the back of his legs but he's getting wise to this and is swinging his mace from side to side around his legs gave me a brisk smack to the stomach, knocked me off my feet

1:38 AM we're still trying our tactic, just gotta watch for when he tries to clear us

1:40 AM the fucker's JUMPING donnie dove at me, pushed me out of the way SMASHHHH as the king lands I can feel my teeth vibrating fucking bosses and their multiple attacks… donnie, what if we traded weapons, could you figure out some sword stuff, I think I could use some upper body strength to bring more force into that hammer

1:41 AM yes I am doing bigger chunks of damage with this he's clearing his legs! dodge

1:42 AM come, swing at me, big boy!!! c'mon!!! over here!!! SMASH donnie's rapidly cutting away at his ankles the health bar is below two-thirds

1:46 AM with this swing of my hammer SMACK we hit 50% and now he's stepping back, clutching at his head "You have some fight in you. This is good... you may actually be able to do this. Understand, cavaliers, I would love nothing more than to find the challengers who might stand a chance against the power that did this to my people, even accepting that this would mean my death. That would be a reprieve I have long prayed for. But you must be vigilant. You must stand firm. You must be ready for anything. The biggest obstacle in your way is your own mind, and so I had lain my challenges along your path with the goal of preparing you." donnie and I are catching our breath. "There are eight principles to hone as a warrior: View, Resolve, Speech, Conduct, Livelihood, Effort, Awareness, and Mind. And there are five mental traps you must always engage with: Desire, Cruelty, Sloth, Panic, and Doubt. As the dark forces allowed me to present my kingdom in any way I saw fit, so long as it stood as an obstacle on your path to me, I chose to test you on these thirteen points. Of these, the only ones you failed were Speech and Conduct, though you found the right Speech at the last minute. Conduct was perhaps a tall challenge to ask you to do in this situation, as murder in self-defense is the most obvious choice when presented with my kingdom's knights. Truth be told, I am glad you failed that one. I want you to kill me." he is kneeling. putting his mace down. "Do it now. While you still have a-- GURK" ..his eyes are glowing yellow now. wings of light emerge from out his back. "King Real has refused his duty. I will take his place for him." and. and who are you? "I am the Golden Light. I am his God." he rises to his feet, a golden aura emanating from within. his health bar is still at 50%, but now the name says KING REAL, VESSEL OF INFINITE LIGHT and he's rearing back his mace, but in the wrong direction? ...SMASH he broke the back wall of the throne room, sent it crumbling down with one swing. on the other side is a large garden, flowers of flesh and bone in pools of blood. the eyeball moon is perfectly visible, aligned to stare down the center of the garden. the God-King walks out into the garden. "Rapture will come, one way or another. The question is if you two will live to see it or die here where you stand." donnie gave a big sigh. "give me my hammer." okay.

1:53 AM Out in the garden now for phase 2. We've spent some time learning his attacks. It's a lot of the same slow swings, but this time when the mace connects with the ground, there's a circle of flaming light warming up the point of contact. And now he uses his wings to clear the area around him if we get too greedy taking swings at his feet. His dodges are much wider now too, he can put a lot of distance between us using his wings to propel him backwards. The Legsteps have come outside and burst into flames. No more brass horn, just electric guitar. Gotta stay alert. Gotta do it for the king.

1:57 AM SWING stab SMACK roll CRUNCH bap SLICE cut cut cut DODGE distract AGGRESS groan

2:00 AM he's raising his mace, glowing very bright let's uh let's back off a second ..crack the ground literally cracks in the ground GUSH, light pouring out of the cracks, radiating intense heat okay, this is a new one to watch out for

2:04 AM "OOF" fuck donnie's sent flying landed in the pool of blood god-king's stepping up to her HEY, YOU FUCKER YOU'RE NO GOD I'VE SEEN MUCH STRONGER GODS THAN YOU AND I'M GONNA FUCKING PROVE IT he's raising his mace, gonna smash her into bloody pulp

2:05 AM none of my attacks were gonna distract him from an easy choice so I had to grab donnie and throw her out of the way which put me in the range of his hammer-smash's glowing light aftereffect so uh that fucking hurt feels like extreme sunburn all over my body but I'm just feeling pure adrenaline right now and donnie's still out of commission so it's just me and the big guy

2:07 AM I'm doing a lot of dodging, not getting many attacks in, but his health is slowly going down he's around 30% I've gotta play it safe enough to not run into the glowies but I've gotta get aggressive when I think I have an opening

2:08 AM donnie's over there coughing up blood jesus I can't do this but I can't panic I need to.. deep breaths… it's just a dance just a big dance with an alien god

2:10 AM donnie's back up!!! wiped the blood from her lips and came to join me in this violent dance you're in trouble now, you fucking nightlight!

2:13 AM she's being a lot more careful that's good I'll gladly take the risks, donnie can go and punish him for choosing attacks that leave himself open

2:18 AM 15% he's getting frantic he's not dodging much anymore but his strong attacks are happening faster and the music's getting even more intense

2:23 AM SWIPE SLASH STAB HAMMER CRUNCH BOP CRACK he's down on a knee!! he's fucking staggered!! get him now!! get him now!!!

2:24 AM "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHoooooooooooooooooooo" light spills out of him in bright lines, percolating and bubbling and BRIGHT EXPLOSION leaving nothing left but a silent garden. but it's strange. this isn't the silence of a battle won. I can't even hear the sound of my pencil scribbling in the journal. ...behind us stands Cockroach Jesus. Looking at us with open arms and a warm smile. He is saying something, but no sound is heard.

(Attached, in the middle of this log, is the note: "It was then, with the defeat of King Real, that the seventh Cipher popped open on my book, and I saw it open by itself. I saw, as the pages turned by themselves, pieces of paper attached throughout. And the pages stopped turning somewhere before halfway through, and it stopped on these words that you read right now. And there, staring me and you in the eyes at different points in time, were new words I hadn't written in there. Did you ever wonder why you even wear this red glove anymore? The struggle’s over. Well. The struggle IS over. What do you do when the movie’s done? The characters can’t leave the movie theater; they’re trapped within the screen. What happens to them? They never tell you. It’s something you’re meant to either find out on your own or be told by appropriate prophets. Mentors? To be fair, most aren’t meant for struggle. Movies are meant to remain within the screen with little crossover with reality. 'Reality.' Let’s not get existential here. What DO you do when the movie’s over? The story ends when the moral has been delivered; it wouldn’t make a good movie if we saw what happ Well, specifically, that would be entering a different theme entirely, so So so it requires a specific kind of movie. Of story. So you’ll have to find.. that. Because your appropriate prophets only apply to the struggle. No, that’s not true. They keep telling you the answers you seek, but you just can’t accept them. You don’t like the answer. You did what they said only heroes could do, you gave it a happy ending, and now you’re expected to go to the land beyond that happy ending and you can’t comprehend being normal again. Could you ever? Were you ever given a chance? This IS your chance. Is it fair to force the chance upon someone after they’ve been to the furthest corners of trauma with no reintegration process? Life isn’t fair Of course life is fair, don’t be silly. Life’s the most fair thing there is. Everything balances out in the end. It’s only in fiction where things don’t, because fiction is rooted in psychology, and psychology isn’t fair. From the perspective of the victim. Is that why, then? Is that why you can’t accept it? You were presented with a life so tainted in psychology that people are claiming it was fictional, and now you’re at the point where the story’s over and the credits are rolling. Do you want reality? That’s the ultimate question here. Forget about responsibility and catharsis, and pay no mind to the distant feeling you mistake for living. Tell yourself, tell ME, do you honestly want reality? Or do you want to go back to purgatory and the chains of psychology? ..well. You don’t have any choice in what happens, so you’d may as well just ride out the pain and enjoy yourself where you can. Enjoy. ‘Cause you’re never getting a good night’s sleep again. And then I heard a Door swing open behind me.")

2:25 AM A Door opened in the garden. I can only see blackness inside.

2:26 AM It is blackness, a great void, though Donnie and I are illuminated by a source we can't see. We're walking on nothing, towards nothing. What happens after the Ciphers?

2:27 AM Another Door led us into a waiting room with golden walls and marble floor. An electronic timer on the wall is counting down from 27 minutes. It's linked to a door that's sealed shut, and a sign. "DOOR WILL OPEN WHEN THE WORLD IS READY." Donnie's looking at me. I guess we'd may as well sit and wait.

2:33 AM We licked our wounds, looked at our bruises, and rubbed our weary legs. Still can't talk to each other, but company is company. She's resting her head on my shoulder now as I write some more. There's also a big TV on the wall, near the door. It's on. Displaying a screen, "NO FEED." If this is like San Francisco, the whole world is probably about to watch.

2:53 AM oh god. one minute left. ..Donnie wants to hold my hand. okay. :) we'll face this together.

2:54 AM Door's open. Starfield inside. I can hear my footsteps again. Donnie's breathing heavily. Into the starfield. There's someone up ahead. Someone wearing a fedora. o_o And.. a... plastic guitar. Guitar Hero III model, Les Paul. His arms are crossed as we step into place. ...Legsteps with camera heads are in the stars below us, pointing up at us. The man is reaching for something. It's a second guitar controller. Another Les Paul. He's. Handing it to me. The man is Bones.

4:30 PM Had to give my journal to Donnie. Only got my journal back now. Boy, do I have some news for you. Derek Taylor handed me a guitar controller, and as soon as I put on the strap, a giant Guitar Hero highway appeared in the sky above us. With the cameras on us, I imagine the whole world watched in confusion and incomprehensible awe as Bones and I... had a guitar duel. It was DragonForce's "Operation Ground and Pound." It was the Guitar Hero III chart. I was player two, Bones was player one. The moment the notes appeared, everything I once knew about plastic rock fell right back into place. I didn't think about why any of this was happening. I didn't think about my exhaustion from the long day. And I didn't think about the fact I hadn't tackled DragonForce in at least a year. All I saw was green, red, yellow, blue, and orange. We were supposed to be dueling, but I found I instinctively raised my guitar up to give Star Power to help him out when he struggled in the solos, even though that's how Rock Band works and not Guitar Hero. And he got what I was trying to do and grinned at me, raising his own guitar. Together, we were giving the world a soundtrack of power metal. ...but, yeah, I won. Kicked his ass. :3 When "PLAYER TWO ROCKS!" appeared on-screen, Derek and I slipped right into old inside jokes, starting with me hounding him for missing the last note, and him just asking, "did I just score?" True friendship lasts eldritch boundaries.

Then the Legsteps trotted away, and another Door opened ahead of us. I introduced Bones to Donnie, and Donnie to Bones. And before we entered the Door together, I looked at Bones and asked if he was here to stay this time. "I could ask the same about you." And we stepped out into the streets of Los Angeles, Legsteps faintly thumping in the distance. As if Bones even being there in the first place wasn't enough of a surprise, he took us to a safehouse where two others were waiting to meet us. "They were traveling together and just kinda ran into me the other day? We got split up when a Door took me to the starfield, but I was planning on coming back to them anyway." One was another guy, younger than me, with curly black hair and a machete. Name's Danny Finnegan. And the other was a girl about my age, in a white shirt and sleek black vest and tie, with sandy blonde hair and a.. gardening implement of some sort. Her name's Rauri McGanna. But I know her as Fentzy. It was. My damn. AIM friends??? I literally could not believe it. Thought this was a Fear playing a trick on me. We kinda forgot about doing anything and just idly wandered awhile, sharing experiences.

Shortly after the apocalypse started, Derek was intrigued by Xanadu, so he took to the rabbit holes, becoming "a creature of the Doors." He spent as much time as he could within the alien universe, spotting patterns in the passages within, to the point where he began to understand how to predict where he was being taken. He’s spent all this time avoiding combat when he can, but when he was forced into danger, he made quick use of his personal Les Paul guitar controller. That explains why his is still intact. >.> Danny, meanwhile, had been staying in the Carolinas before the Archangel took his loved one, and he chased him out west. He spent a lot of that time alone, and ran into Fentzy somewhere in Kansas, the two electing to stick together. Fentzy, then, started in Connecticut, tried surviving in New York for a while, and left (quite a while before Donnie and I made it there), traveling with her sister Dwyn. Those two didn't care about the hardships of the road so long as they were together, but. I mean, Dwyn isn't here, and Fentzy doesn't want to talk about that. She did meet up with Danny, and the two crossed the rest of America. They were actually trying to get to San Francisco to volunteer with the RAF, but they missed a truck. By the time they got here, San Francisco was just a big crater, and they went to Los Angeles instead. Donnie and I had to, uh, explain what happened with that. Meeting up with Bones was purely coincidence. Meeting up with each other was. Meeting up with me was. But, I mean, they'd each met a lot of strangers on their travels, and probably wouldn't have stuck together in the first place, but for the fact that they had been AIM friends. Anyway. Donnie and I had.. seriously had a long day, so we were given beds in the safehouse and konked out. We woke up a while ago and began heading out of Los Angeles when Donnie remembered she still had my journal, so here we are!

5:03 PM Bones has been reading through my journals. He’s asking a lot of questions and sharing anecdotes, and Fentzy and Danny have plenty to say too, so this may take a while.

10:34 PM We’re quite far from Los Angeles now. Not entirely sure where we’re going, but Bones just started leading us, so I assume he knows where he’s going.

11:29 PM Bones tells us he’s run into a lot of Fears on his travels, but he generally tries his best to avoid them. He wound up getting marked by the Omen, and he’s sure the Morphs are after him, but that’s about it. Except for “the Neonate,” who he says he’s hunting. He’s pretty damn good at keeping out of trouble! I must look like the biggest troublemaker in the world to him. “Man, what you look like to me is a lucky bastard with a great girl by your side.” You've got me there. For once in my life, it's gone that way. But it never felt right without you around, old friends. :)

(Attached: “we came in? Wait, no, that doesn’t really work in this situation. Damn. Looks like I won’t get to use my trademark wit here. Then what else am I supposed to fill up this space with? Maybe I could talk about Guitar Hero. Yeah, sure, let’s talk about Guitar Hero. The song that Jordan and Derek played here, ‘Operation Ground and Pound,’ is arguably the easiest of the four DragonForce songs available for Guitar Hero III, which raises the question of why it was chosen for such a widely televised battle to begin with. They could have picked something much more entertaining. Then again, it was to be the first of many, so I suppose they wanted to keep the more climactic stuff for later. Which hints at the depressing fact that, for all the chaos and randomness that the apocalypse looks like it comprises of, in all actuality the apocalypse was so rigidly planned that the Ciphers were never gonna offer a way out. It’s debatable exactly how much even the guitar duels offer one. I won’t beat around the bush here: The horrible forces behind the apocalypse were just gloating when they chose that song.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[beesneedswords]

Is This Goodbye or Hello Again

Spawn Astarion ending 🪷

Gn reader, but name given Gidja (God of the Moon/ Aboriginal Origin).

Masterlist

Astarion sits on a small patch of dirt, a small stone in front of him reading Gidja Farore 1334-1787. He places a bundle of autumncrocus atop the stone. He presses his lips to the cold rock before getting up. As he steps away his eyes never leave the grey boulder in front of him. It had been months, almost a year, since their passing and he still feels angry. They could've lived together, forever, but they had to stop him from completing the ritual. Tears threaten to leave his eyes and he finally decides to turn away.

The two of them were able to build a sort of community for the other spawn with the help of the macynoid colony. Astarion and Gidja lived in the arcane tower, while others lived around them. They started a small potion business to make money for them all to survive, mostly so Gidja could eat.

"How could I become so reliant on someone after two hundred years?!" He screams, "I told myself never to get too close!" Astarion turns back to the stone, eyes filled with fury, "How did you sneak into my heart and make me love you?"

Astarion crumples to the ground in sobs. Hot tears run down his perfectly pale face. He buries his face in his hands, trying to control the mess he's become. His body shakes with the sorrows flowing through him. Astarion sits for minutes, maybe hours, trying to control his grief.

When he finally runs out of tears he stands and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Every day he visits them, more anger and despair enters his body. He wanted them to be buried next to his headstone in Baldur's Gate, but no one was able to help him. He also thinks that is a good thing, he is still able to visit them. The funeral was beautiful, just what they would've wanted. Any friends and family they had left. Halsin, really being the only one still alive, and just barely. Halsin attempted to help Astarion cope, but he couldn't do much.

The other spawn have taken notice of Astarion's unstable state, taking note of his mentions of going into the sun to join his love.

“I'll join you soon.” He whispers to the dormit stone.

He stumbles back and goes back to the arcane tower. He's finally finished his preparations to leave. Astarion told Petras about his plans, and his brother agreed to take care of all the others. He grabs the backpack from the stiff mattress he hasn't laid on in months and stuffs it full of blood jars and clothes. He pulls on his armor in case of trouble and grabs the swords he'd been holding onto for almost three hundred years.

Astarion leaves the tower and makes his way up through the Underdark. Saying his goodbyes to the macynoid. Once he reaches the end of their colony he sees Petras and Daylria. They both give him a sad smile, knowing his end goal.

“We brought this for you.” Daylria says holding out a ring. The ring was nothing special, a gold band and gem, but Astarion recognized it. They'd found a skeleton couple laying in bed together with two rings. One was buried with Gidja. Petras and Daylria had scratched a new date for him, only the year, but the year Gidja and Astarion met.

Petra closes his hand around Astarion's, around the ring, “We'd done the same to theirs. We've arranged for a Gurr to bury you when… you've passed.”

“No,” Astarion says angrily, ripping his hand away from his brother, “I want to be buried here with them.”

“Alright, alright.” Petras says, “We can arrange it.”

Astarion nods, his posture rigid. He makes his way back up and through the old Selune temple. Even after all this time it has still remained empty. When he finally emerges into the temple he relives the battles with the Absolute cultists. He sees all the goblin skeletons, garments now torn and weathered, and the weapons rusted and disintegrating. The massive statues have been chipped and rounded from the falling ceiling allowing rain in. Astarion weaves in and out of the unrecognizable rubble.

The moonlight flows through the holes in the roof. Astarion stops under one, basking in the only sunlight he can live in. He reaches the ruined doors and attempts to push them open, but the hinges are rusted shut. He tries for hours to open them, but he never does. He screams, the grief and anger finally overwhelming his body. He throws a sword across the small room.

Astarion turns to the room where they killed Gut, he sees the once white moonlight becoming a soft yellow. This is his chance. He runs to one of the spots, standing just outside it. He watches the sun rise through the rubble, waiting for the sun to be up high enough. He doesn't want to suffer anymore, he wants something quick.

Once the sun has finally reached it's peak above the temple, Astarion steps into the light. He thinks of the many years he had with Gidja. Their face, the way their skin felt, how they always made him smile. The sun burns and blisters his skin, but he can't feel the pain anymore. He throws his arms out to his sides. Astarion smiles, feeling his fingers begin to crust and fall apart. He closes his eyes ignoring the sensation on his body turning to dust.

“I will be with you now, my love.” He says just before his body crumples. Some of the ashes blow away in the wind, but his heart remains. Petras and Daylria take him, that night, back to their settlement. They hold a small funeral and bury him with Gidja, their hearts together for the rest of time.

[aamirastories]

Part 3

I'm putting these out quite regularly now as I have a lot of this already written, but will slow down now to give a chance to catch up for those following along!

The Hikers

March 10th, 2023

My legs were on fire. I looked up. When my father said this was going to be a short climb to the top, I would love to know what scale of measurement we’d used. 

I looked down. Sure, we’d come a long way. Looking up again though, the top seemingly faded seamlessly into the clouds.

“Come on! We’re almost there!”, my father said.

Now I knew what deja-vu was. It was hearing that every hundred or so metres. My father was an ex-Navy seal – tall, rugged with short greying hair. Our bond grew after my mother passed away and whilst I struggled growing up, Dad had really been working on his bond with me and this hike was an example of that. Years of demanding special ops missions and training have left him tough, physically and mentally and even out of service many years, he still kept himself in great shape. I on the other hand was only just beginning to get used to this increased level of torture-come-training that he led me through weekly. I was skinny and was never comfortable with exercise, though I did always prefer exploring and Dad and I always had a bond through this. I however, was exhausted.

We continued climbing up the gradual slope, my legs burning with each step. I focused on regulating my breathing as I tracked our progress, counting over 500 laborious steps upward. The ground unexpectedly levelled off into a plateau still shrouded in mist, surprising me. Where was the peak?

“Almost there!” My dad called out ahead, striding vigorously towards the blanket of clouds. I hurried to catch up, confused. We'd hiked miles, the thin, cool air signalling high altitude.

As soon as I entered the fog, it enveloped me completely. The astonishing vista left behind vanished - there was only a haze of white. We wandered sightless amidst the swirling vapor; the mountain's peak shrouded. A surreal sensation came over me, as if floating in another realm high above earthly bounds. I focused on my father's broad back as my anchor point, shadowing his tireless gait through this bizarre, muffled limbo.

Just when unease began overwhelming me, the fog thinned. Crisp blue sky emerged above while sunlight dappled the rocks golden. Scrambling up boulders, I grasped a ledge, pulling myself to the summit on hands and knees, my heart racing and my lungs on fire, before standing up. I got a little lightheaded, but my father steadied me, as the weight of the rucksack on my back obeyed gravity and threatened to help me take the quick way back down the mountain. 

I looked around. The view was gorgeous. The sky was a rich blue with only a faint wisp of cloud on the horizon. There was a nice cool breeze which I appreciated as it helped to cool my face, sweat still pouring down it. I slowly turned, taking in the vista, careful not to lose footing again. 

In the distance. What was it? I called out to my father.

“Dad? What’s that?”

It took him a moment. I pointed in the direction, and he finally spotted it, as it grew closer.

“An aircraft maybe? Seems to be going quickly whatever it is.” he replied.

“The trail though, it’s not white, it’s grey, almost black.” I added, and focused on it more, shading my eyes with my hand placed over my eyebrows. It was hard to discern a particular shape of it although it did glint in the sun, so I could only surmise it was made of some kind of metal.

It was coming more quickly now, the front of it turning a more yellow orange, and suddenly my heart began to race again.

“It’s definitely not an aircraft” my dad said. He picked up his phone and zoomed into it, getting a closer look.

As it got so close, we felt we could almost make out the shape of it, trying to work out exactly what it was, it exploded. The sound hit us about 4 seconds later, a loud bang, this deafening peal accompanied by a blast of scorching wind that sent us both backwards.

“WOW!” My dad said as he looked at me.

Where the object had previously been, a blue cloud was hanging in the air, spreading and becoming fainter as it did, the wind beginning to carry it over our heads. We stared at it for a matter of minutes before it completely faded. I could swear, before my dad looked at me that the faintest smell of what I could only describe as coriander was in the air but dismissed it immediately. We breathed air that had been endlessly hot – I could still feel the residual heat on my face. As the smoke dispersed, the sky looked pale and empty again.

“Come on, let’s head back down again. I need to write this down before I forget and post these pictures to some friends.” my dad said and began to step cautiously down the steep slope. I looked back up, no sign of where the object had been, before turning again and following him down, my path tracing his.

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.9 answering your mystical call

warnings : cussing, allie has a bit of a mental breakdown, she's also pretty cynical this whole chapter

word count : 5.6k

0.9 Cliff Richard's Devil Woman is Usually My Song, but This Time Its Warning Probably Should've Been Heeded 

At that moment I could officially say I loved all of my friends. As soon as the trident faded they shook out of their collective stupors, circled around me, and led me away from the other campers. Each person had a hand on me, bringing my on-autopilot body through the woods. 

I came back to myself as I felt my gag reflex kicking in. I pushed myself away from them and leaned against the nearest tree, throwing up the contents in my stomach. Luke walked over and held my hair back for me. 

His earlier words about children of the Big Three gods being too powerful kept repeating themselves in my mind. I didn't know my own strength.

And that thought terrified me. 

They took me to the infirmary, where we'd be able to stay together for the whole night, just in case something happened. I'd need to go there anyway, considering I couldn't stop hyperventilating, but my friends were amazing and I knew they wouldn't leave me alone. 

I puked a few more times before midnight and finally felt like I couldn't anymore a few minutes before Chiron came to check on us. My heart hadn't stopped pounding, though, so I didn't really feel any better by the time he left.

I calmed down around one, thanks to the help of everyone. Once I had, everyone made sure to steer clear of the topic of my father. Instead, we talked about random things. I didn't want them staying up just for me, but they'd insisted. I was thankful for that, though, because there were a few moments where I wasn't thinking about my parentage and the danger my life created. 

We'd all ended up passing out a little before four. I woke up right at 5, made sure everyone was okay, then tried to go back to sleep. The last thing I remember was curling up to Luke's side and then the nightmare hit me. 

I was standing on the beach again, but this time it wasn't outside my beach house. There was a city behind me, but I couldn't decide which one it was. I thought Miami at first, but that didn't seem quite right. 

The wind picked up and I found myself running across the sand. Trying to do what? I don't know. All I knew was I had to get there. 

I didn't notice where I was running and when I looked up from my feet I saw two men fighting about a hundred yards away from me. When I say fighting, I don't mean like... a few punches and then done, like some of the fights that broke out during my time in high school. I mean all out wrestling; on the ground, punching, kicking. Whatever they could do, they did. 

They stopped for a second, stood, and stared at each other before going back at it. They looked like TV wrestlers, but with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one lined with blue, the other with green. They grappled furiously with each other, wrestling, kicking and headbutting each other. Every time that they connected with each other, lightning flashed, the sky grew even darker, and the wind rose. Not to mention the waves from the sea grew and would completely cover my feet before retreating back. 

I thought it was the large waves that made it much harder for me to run towards them, but then I realized it was because I was running in slow motion. Something was pulling me back every time I tried to run forward. I settled for yelling, instead.

"Stop! Stop fighting," I yelled as my feet dug helplessly in the sand. The force was getting stronger, I could feel myself getting pulled backward. I don't know how, but I knew I had to stop them. It was the only reason I was trying so hard to run. 

Laughter sounded from somewhere beneath the earth, and a voice, ancient, powerful and full of evil, spoke. It just made me struggle even more. 

"Come down, little heroine," the voice purred, making my blood turn cold from fear. "Come down!"

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down into the center of the earth. I slipped and started to fall into the darkness.

I bolted upright and immediately surveyed my surroundings. I was still in the infirmary and everyone was still there. All asleep, so at least I didn't wake anyone up from my nightmare.

"You okay?" 

Spoke too soon.

"Yeah," I replied, clearing my throat. "Yeah, just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about."

"Well, I am worried. You kinda scared m— us last night," Luke said, a look of concern covering his face. His blue eyes only proving that point even further. Seriously, who gave him the right to have such blue eyes? It should be illegal. 

"The first day I was here, at least when I was fully conscious, you told me a child of Poseidon once killed over a hundred people with an earthquake. How do I know I won't do that?" I felt tears pool my eyes, but I refused to let them loose. I had to look away from Luke, though. 

"Hey," he said gently. "Hey, look at me. You won't."

"How are you so sure? If I can do it, how will I learn how to control it? I don't have anyone to teach me and I barely trust myself."

"Allie, it's going to be fine. I promise. Stop focusing on the negatives."

"There aren't that many positives for me to focus on instead, Luke."

"Then don't think about it at all." He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down to his chest, laying me down once more. 

A loud banging interrupted our moment and woke up most of the others. I guess it was pretty hard to be a light sleeper whenever you're a demigod. And whoever was knocking seemed really eager to talk to us. 

"Oh, joy. Maybe it's someone coming to tell me I'm about to be executed because I'm alive," I commented bluntly. 

Luke glared at me and got up to answer the door. Silena squinted her eyes at me, so to keep her from going all Aphrodite on me, I shook my head. What it was supposed to mean, I don't quite know, but apparently Silena did, because she relaxed.

"You're not gonna get executed, Angel," Luke said, speaking while still walking towards the door. Silena's eye squinting was back. "The gods love pretty faces too much to get rid of yours." 

My jaw dropped and the squinting intensified. 

Luke opened the door just in time for Grover's fist to smash into his face. I burst out laughing along with the others, my mood significantly improved by the scene.

"Ow! Grover, what in Tartarus?" Luke complained, holding his now bruising cheek. "Oh, thanks so much for your help, Allie," he added as I continued to chuckle, holding my sides. 

I waved him off, regaining my breath with effort. "Don't worry about it," I choked out. He made a face, as Grover waved both his arms, struggling to catch his own breath as he did so.

"Allie needs," he gasped out. "Go to Big House. Now."

That did the trick. My smirk disappeared and I felt as if I was going to get sick again. Everyone's laughing ceased. Luke also tensed, his jaw tightening as he glanced back at me, offering his hand. I held onto it like a lifeline as we headed to the Big House.

It felt like everyone was staring at me as we passed. Annabeth was surrounded by several of her siblings, sneering at me as I hurried past. I kept my eye on the big house, but kept my chin in the air.

"Sea spawn," one of them muttered. I arched an eyebrow slightly.

"Oh, don't tell me they all suddenly hate me because of the Athena-Poseidon feud," I muttered to Luke after leaving earshot. 

He answered as he frowned over his shoulder at them. I heard Malcolm telling them to cut it out and tried getting them to walk away. 

"Don't ask me to explain the sense," Luke instructed me. "I've never seen the point in fighting our parents' arguments, but most do, unfortunately."

I scowled. "Great, that's just what I need," I sulked. He gave me a quick hug as we darted up the porch steps of the Big House.

Thunder rumbled as we rounded the corner. We all stopped to stare at the cloud creeping over our home in shock and dismay.

"How's that possible?" I asked tensely. "Katie told me that Camp has magic controlling its weather."

Luke licked his lips nervously. "The gods must be angry," he replied in a strained voice.

"Huh," I muttered sarcastically. "I wonder why." He gave me a forced smile.

I swallowed and dusted off my Nike shorts. I could see various campers huddled together and whispering. No doubt all of them had figured out the cause of the gods' anger. Not that it was hard to figure out in the first place.

"Well hurry up," Mr. D demanded grumpily, attracting our attention. "We haven't got all day you know."

We headed over to the table, and while Luke leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, the same way he had almost a week ago when I first woke up, and Grover pulled out a pack of cards to eat anxiously, I crossed my arms and stared at them. I raised my chin and took on the stubborn expression that had pissed my step-father off to no end. It would, no doubt, make Mr. D. feel the same way.

"What don't we have all day for?" I was sure I sounded very petulant, but I was too stressed to care. 

Too fucking glam to give a damn, I thought, then actually listened to my predicament. 

Chiron gave me a sympathetic smile, gesturing to the chair opposite him. I actually respected Chiron, so I felt the need to listen to what he was saying. With my pissed off expression, and crossed arms, I'm sure that I looked more like how people would expect me to act— a prima donna. I normally would've hated it— I despised the stereotypes that came with my career— but sometimes it helped. Sometimes. 

Mr. D narrowed his purple eyes at me. "Don't expect me to go bowing to you just because old Barnacle Beard is your father," he warned me. The sky rumbled dangerously and he gave it a contemptuous look. "Blah, blah, blah," he grumbled. "If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in as I shifted vigilantly and Luke tensed.

"Nonsense," Dionysus scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "The girl wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself and now I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead. Send you back to your father and still not have to worry about you."

"Mr. D—" Chiron warned.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus yielded. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolish." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the girl is still here when I get back, I'll turn her into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Astraea Jackson, if you're at all intelligent, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. He disappeared in the same way he had when he first talked to me, the smell of grapes lingered once again.

Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, boys, please." 

They did, tension radiating from all of us. I leaned forward and rested my head on my hands.

Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use. "Tell me, Allie," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

I tilted my head, trying to remember how I felt. "I'm not sure. I know it scared me," I admitted frankly. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead. And I know I would've died if Will and Luke hadn't put me further in the water."

"You'll meet worse, Allie. Far worse, before you're done." 

Luke wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulders, and I was infinitely grateful for his support.

"... Done with what?"

"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

I glanced to my sides at Grover, who was crossing his fingers, and Luke, who's expression had darkened exponentially. He looked like only his deep respect for Chiron was keeping him yelling at the top of his lungs. Luke had been the last person to go on a quest, according to Clarisse, Katie, Nessa, and Silena. Something had happened, earning him the scar that spun above his eyebrow to his cheekbone, but since they didn't know from what, I didn't, either.

"Uh." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling sick again. "You haven't told me what it is yet."

Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I ventured warily. "They're fighting over something valuable... something's been stolen and they're fighting over it, aren't they?"

The others exchanged looks.

Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair, a grim look on his face, mixed with something I couldn't decipher. "How did you know that?"

My face turned red. I wished I hadn't opened my mouth. "The weather since Christmas has been... weird. Like the sea and the sky are... I don't know, fighting. Then I talked to Katie, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And..." I paused here, trying to figure out how best to say it. "I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it!" Grover exclaimed. Luke cursed, shoving away from the table and starting to pace. I bit my lip in worry.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered. "Luke, calm down."

"But it is her quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"It's too dangerous!" Luke countered, throwing his hands in the air. "She hasn't even been training for a week! She could get killed, I can't believe you two are even suggesting this. It's crazy."

Chiron gave them both a scolding look. "She's been training for many years, you forget. She's a talented girl who's had a special life. Only the Oracle can determine whether it is Allie's quest or not." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Allie, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

I laughed nervously. "I dearly hope you don't mean Zeus' lightning bolt," I said, hoping— but knowing— I was wrong.

"I mean exactly that," Chiron informed. "The whole two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Uh-huh." I felt weaker than I had in a while and more frightened than ever. I really didn't like where this talk of Zeus' missing lightning bolt and a quest was going. Nowhere good, at the very least.

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, trying to get the point across. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"Right. And it's been stolen?"

"Yes," Chiron said.

"By who?"

"By whom," Chiron corrected. I gave him a look. "By you."

My temper flared. I wouldn't let my jaw drop, so I ended up clenching my teeth, making myself look more intimidating than I wanted. I'd seen myself in the mirror too many times while I was angry, so I didn't even have to see myself to know my face darkened. 

"At least"— Chiron held up a hand to stop the defense that was on the tip of my tongue— "that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best', 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot steal another god's symbol of power directly— that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"And he assumes I'm the one he used?"

"Precisely, however—" Chiron raised a hand to keep me from interrupting— "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his daughter. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief."

"First off," I said with an attitude, "I'm in New York 80% of the time. I was born there. I grew up there. That is where I live. That is, therefore, not proof. Second off, I actually wasn't even in New York at all during the Christmas Holidays." 

Chiron raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I've been filming scenes for a T.V. show I'm doing. We only finished filming a few weeks ago, and the director used my winter holiday as an excuse to keep me in front of the camera longer. Filming was in Philadelphia, a good two hours away from Manhattan, where I spent practically all of my holiday. I know for a fact I spent a majority of the day, and well into the night, of the winter solstice in front of a large camera and stage lights. Does Zeus know that? Furthermore, you should've known that, as I had to leave a day early to get to Philly and was a whole two days late coming back to school. My mom had to drive down to see me for Christmas." 

He studied me for a moment and ultimately ignored the sass I gave him. "I suppose you're right. Perhaps Zeus is just paranoid. Though, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before—"

"Not that that's my problem. But it was the golden net, right?" I guessed, thinking of the different stories I knew to figure out which was most likely. This seemed to be the best fit. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in one and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler."

"Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along— the proverbial last straw."

"Oh, yes, because it's my fault I was born," I hissed bitterly. I glared darkly at the sky, cursing men in general but avoiding using Zeus' name so as not to be blasted into pieces. "Did he steal it?" I suddenly asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem likely. Why would he? And why now? But, I don't know, did he?"

Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I had hopes that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has ignited Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Allie?" 

I took my best guess, not feeling the need to be dramatic. "The world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight. How close did I get?"

"Spot-on," Chiron said, not shocked in the slightest at my knowledge. He never was; he always assumed I knew the answer, so he had no reason to be. "And you, Astraea Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus' wrath."

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. Luke came over to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders in solidarity.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me. I had never been so angry. "So I have to find the damn bolt," I huffed. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"

"One minor problem," I pointed out. "I don't know where the damn thing is."

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago... well, some of the lines make sense to me now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?"

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I laughed, but it had no amusement behind it. "Fair enough."

"You agree then?"

I looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly. Luke squeezed my shoulders in silent support. I squared my shoulders. I'd learned long ago that screaming about fairness did nothing.

"All right, fine," I said, flipping my braids back over my shoulders. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Allie, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

Very encouraging. And cheerful, too. Gotta love millennia-old centaurs.

Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor.

I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place. The warm air from above smelled like mildew and rotten wood and something else... a smell I remembered from biology class. Reptiles. The smell of snakes.

I gave another of those dry, unamused laughs before climbing. 

The attic was filled with Greek hero junk: armor stands covered in cobwebs; once-bright shields pitted with rust; old leather steamer trunks plastered with stickers saying ITHAKA, CIRCE'S ISLE, and LAND OF THE AMAZONS. One long table was stacked with glass jars filled with pickled things—severed hairy claws, huge yellow eyes, various other parts of monsters. A dusty mounted trophy on the wall looked like a giant snake's head, but with horns and a full set of shark's teeth. The plaque read, HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK, N.Y., 1969. All this stuff would've made the Camp millions if it was sold on eBay to those Internet Freaks™.

By the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome memento of all: a mummy. Not the wrapped-in-cloth kind, but a human female body shriveled to a husk. She wore a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long black hair. The skin of her face was thin and leathery over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits, as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she'd been dead a long time.

Looking at her sent chills up my back. And that was before she sat up on her stool and opened her mouth. A green mist poured from the mummy's mouth, coiling over the floor in thick tendrils, hissing like twenty thousand snakes. Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain: I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask.

I grimaced at the ominous command, but I still obeyed.

The mummy wasn't alive. She was some kind of gruesome receptacle for something else, the power that was now swirling around me in the green mist. But its presence didn't feel evil, like my demonic math teacher Mrs. Dodds or the Minotaur. It felt more like the Three Fates I'd seen knitting the yarn outside the highway fruit stand: ancient, powerful, and definitely not human. But not particularly interested in killing me, either.

After debating the right way to say it, I gave up and asked the bluntest question that would still give me what I needed, "How do I find Zeus' bolt?"

The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. Suddenly there were four men sitting around the table, playing cards. Their faces became clearer. It was my ex-stepfather Gabe at a poker party with his buddies.

My fists clenched, though I knew this poker party couldn't be real. It was an illusion, made out of the mist.

Gabe turned toward me and spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle: You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.

His buddy on the right looked up and said in the same voice: You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.

The guy on the left threw in two poker chips, then said: You shall be betrayed by one who calls you friend.

Finally, a guy I recognized dimly as Eddie, our old building super, delivered the worst line of all: And it shall begin, in the end.

The figures began to dissolve. At first, I was too stunned to say anything, but as the mist retreated, coiling into a huge green serpent and slithering back into the mouth of the mummy, I came back to my senses. I wanted to ask more questions, but something told me I wouldn't get them answered. 

The tail of the mist snake disappeared into the mummy's mouth. She reclined back against the wall. Her mouth closed tight, as if it hadn't been opened in a hundred years. The attic was silent again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of mementos.

;

"Well?" Chiron asked me as soon as he saw my face reappear in the door.

Luke didn't say anything, but he offered me a glass of water. I accepted it gratefully. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

"You shall go west and face the god who has turned, and you will find what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover declared, looking gleeful. Easy for him, he wasn't responsible for saving the world before becoming an adult.

Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

I didn't want to tell him. Who would betray me? I didn't know, and I didn't want to hurt any of my friends by claiming that someone they cared for would be a traitor.

And the last line— the first thing that came to my mind was war. I'd fail to stop the war in the end? What kind of Oracle would send me on a quest and tell me, Oh, by the way, you'll fail? How could I confess that? How could I tell them it was all hopeless? I used my acting face. I could hide my darkest secrets just by using that face, so I knew it'd be hard for Chiron to pull more information out of me, no matter how good he was. 

"No," I said, tilting my head to make it seem like I was thinking about the two lines. "That's all it said."

I knew he knew I was holding something back, but he didn't say anything. I'd managed to convince him, just enough. 

"Very well, Allie. But know this: The Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

"Okay," I agreed, anxious to change topics. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Allie," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?" 

I thought for a moment and then chose the god he was most likely thinking of. "Hades?" I guessed. Personally, I didn't get it. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't feel like Hades was the type. 

Chiron nodded and spoke, regaining my drifting attention. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

Fury and grief flashed over Luke's face and he clenched his fists tightly. Hades, I remembered, had been the one to send the horde of monsters that overwhelmed and killed Thalia on the hill six years ago. Luke probably despised the Lord of the Dead more than any other immortal.

A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh- what?"

"A Fury came after Allie," Chiron reminded him. "She watched her until she was sure of her identity, then tried to kill her. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but— but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Allie is a daughter of Poseidon—"

"That still doesn't tell us how he got the Bolt in the first place," Luke added, his jaw tense. "He still needed a hero to steal it."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Allie to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill her before she can take on the quest."

"Great," I muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me."

"But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Allie must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

"What if it isn't him though?" I asked. 

Chiron looked patiently at me as I struggled to think. I had trouble putting my thoughts into words. I understood it, but I didn't think they would.

"He just doesn't... ugh." I hated words. "I can't just... you don't have any proof against Hades, do you? If you did, you'd have taken it to Zeus. What if your hunch is wrong, and Hades doesn't have it? There isn't time to search all of America, but guessing is just as bad! I'm not about to start World War III because of a guess!"

That rage from earlier was making its way back into my veins and it was all I could do to keep it from taking over. 

"Allie, I know that this is far more pressure than you should have ever had to bear," Chiron told me gently. He reached out, grasping my hand as he spoke. "But I am not just choosing you for this quest because of your parentage, I'm choosing you because I have faith that you can succeed in this. You're strong, and a survivor. You can do this."

Curse him for knowing some of my past traumas that I'd promised myself I'd never let bring me down again.

"Going to the Underworld isn't just a hunch, Allie," Luke added, turning our hug into a side-embrace so he was still holding me while we faced the others. "We know that you'll find the Bolt in the west, so we just need to go in that direction. And it is we," he insisted firmly before I even had the chance to speak. "Go without me, and I'll sneak out after you. I'm helping, whether you like it or not, got it?" That was good because he was the first person I would've asked to go with me.

"And me too!" Grover declared, looking utterly terrified. "And it's not about the license. It's 'cause you're my friend, and I'm not letting you go into danger without me to help."

I smirked confidently. I had a team and Chiron knew it, if the smile on his face was anything to go by. It was genuine. He had complete faith in us. I squared my shoulders and tilted my chin up. The ultimate red-carpet look. 

"When do we leave?"

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

[ru5t]

knowing your partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier !

– BASICS.

♡ NAME: Hannah

♡ PRONOUNS: she/her

♡  AGE: 25+

♡  TIME ZONE: CST (GMT -5)

–THREE FACTS.

♡ I moderate a(n overw.atch) twitch channel/community! It's good fun and very dear to me but also sooooo so frustrating, sometimes.

♡ When I was little I was convinced I was going to grow up to become a veterinarian. I do not think the level of schooling or the uhhhhh amount of strong stomach it takes is actually for me.

♡ I strongly suspect I have an anxiety disorder and ADHD(? or a similar symptom set) but have no official diagnoses. At any rate, executive dysfunction you bitch.

–EXPERIENCE.

♡   HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): I have been on tumblr since 2011 but I've been storytelling/rping basically since like. ... You know how most kids act out their imaginative play? I did a looooooooottttt of "explaining" (/narrating, whatever you want to call it) and very little physical playing-things-out. Yes, I know what that is a common early indicator of. I'm unpacking that one shhhhh.

♡   PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: uhhhh paper (as in i'd pass a notebook back and forth with school friends), IMVU, dA, various dms, twitter, forums, tumblr, a chatroom i forgot the name of we'd use for tumblr 'events', discord, wire

♡   BEST EXPERIENCE: Actually just the experience of rp in general. I have learned a lot through writing and the people who gave me grace in the process of it.

–MUSE PREFERENCES.

♡   MASCULINE OR FEMININE: I don't think I have a preference, per se? But I do seem to gravitate toward guy canons, whereas my OC roster tends to be waaaay more fluid and diverse, but I don't think there's any particular reason for this? Just the pattern of characters who appeal to me tend to be dudes in popular media, I guess? I did almost write Liz from Hellb.oy and Nomi from Sens.e8, in addition to the other canon ladies I have on the multi+Kiri's blog.

♡  FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: I actually kind of like. what I will call exploring? You put two characters in a box. Sometimes you shake it, or put a blanket in there, but mostly you just.... see what happens. Also tho I'm the fluff queen ♥ Good angst/whump has to come from somewhere and go somewhere else, I don't like to force it or just throw it around without reason or consequence, if that makes sense? And I like smut in theory but I don't have a lot of practice and my comfort level is a verrry narrow ledge I'm working on building up better, because genuinely it seems fun and interesting.

♡   PLOTS OR MEMES: I enjoy a little bit of bg plotting but also sometimes just really want to completely wing it and feel out the chemistry before committing to anything. Once we have a ground floor I like to build (and spiral)!!! I struggle with doing a bunch of memes when there's no floor to stand on, it starts to get really challenging in an un-fun way, and I feel like it's repetitive and uninteresting to write and to read. If a dynamic never has footing it can never evolve, y'know? Gotta give me something, something has to stick at some point.

♡   LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: No preference! Even when I start out 'short' I find I often end up unspooling into longer stuff but it doesn't have to I'm just wordy. I don't care if I consistently get shorter stuff back, as long as it suits the like. Yes, and. of it all. As long as there's something to work forward from I'm chillin!

♡   BEST TIME TO WRITE: I don't have a conscious preference but I do seem to have more success in early morning hours. No idea what that's about.

♡ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): Sometimes. A lot of them get teeny tiny bits and pieces of my views or opinions. I have never felt more Seen by a show than when Luke Pat.terson ghost-apparitioned into my life, even if his One Thing is not my One Thing, but we don't have to unpack that. Me 'n Henry have some childhood traumas in common (except he lives in a fairytale where he gets a thing I don't get) but I don't know that he's particularly like me. Maddy did super duper on a technicality start out as a form of self insert, but it's complicated because also super duper on a technicality so did her mom (who actually existed first! which is rare. Normally I build center-out but this time it was a generation back and Tech just sort of happened, which was crazy and fun), and they both really migrated away from that sooo quickly that it's weird to me to think that was ever even technically true. In the long run Maddy got more of 'me' than Mayhem ever did but it has always been in a hyperbolic and/or metaphorical way. She's definitely grown with me, which has been an Experience and a half. All of them, by virtue of being written by me, are subject to my sense of humor in the narrative parts of the writing, whether they would think it's funny or not.

[cousinkooksbackup]

Exchanged Love. || a bellyjere au fic

chapter thirteen

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bellys pov

The pulsating rhythm of music reverberated from somewhere down the street, creating a contagious buzz of anticipation in the air. As I gazed at the constant stream of people flowing in and out, red solo cups in hand, I couldn't help but wonder two things: how did they escape the fear of getting caught, and was this really my life now?

We were back in Boston, Conrad at Brown, and after the moment Jeremiah and I shared in the pool, we hadn't broached the subject again. Even the next morning, when I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him a second longer than I should have, he didn't return the glance. At that moment, I concluded that perhaps the universe had done me a favor by intervening, saving me from a potential disaster.

Conrad had left for Brown straight from Cousins, leaving Susannah and me to pile into Jeremiah's jeep. Thankfully, Susannah suffered from motion sickness and claimed the passenger seat, granting me the solitude of the back row. It was a relief, sparing me from reliving the night in the Sonic car park and worrying about her catching me staring at him.

The following days were a whirlwind of preparation for the new school year. Despite having packed enough clothes, Susannah insisted on taking me shopping, Jeremiah dove into football practices, and life became a blur of busyness. But it was good; Jeremiah and I eventually found our rhythm over those last few days. I envisioned our school year to be like this, sharing breakfasts in the morning, attending classes separately, and reuniting at the dinner table to recount our days—a friendship that merely grazed the surface, and that was fine with me. This way, my heart remained safely guarded.

Then, suddenly, it was Thursday night, and we were all gathered on the sofa, devouring Chinese takeout. Just three days separated me from my first day at a Boston high school. Jeremiah subtly suggested attending the back-to-school party thrown by his football buddy, EJ. Susannah didn't object, but there was one condition—I had to accompany him.

And that's how I found myself outside a seemingly enormous house, presumably EJ's. I had never been to a real party before. Sure, I'd seen them in movies, and I'd been to birthday parties, but this was different. It was a bit scary, meeting my new peers outside the school hallways, where they could pass judgment that might stick with me for the whole year. I was nervous.

"It'll be fine, Bells. Come on," Jeremiah encouraged me as my feet slowed to a halt on the pavement a few houses down.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the lively scene ahead. Now, I was staring into those mesmerizing ocean eyes, the world fading away despite my silent pleas.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a soft, quiet voice. I knew he wanted to go, but I also knew that if I wanted to leave, we'd turn around and head back home. Not just because that's what Susannah wanted, but because that's who Jeremiah was as a person.

So I nodded, mustering up the brightest smile I could manage before placing both hands on his solid stomach, gently urging him toward the party.

"Come on, it's now or never, Fisher," I sighed. It was more for me than him, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fisher, my boy!" a booming voice echoed from the front porch of the house, followed by an even larger figure charging toward us. Jeremiah was on the ground in an instant, barely avoiding a collision with the running man by an inch. I stood in the wet grass, watching as a group of other guys joined in the fun. The football team, I presumed.

"Guys, you saw me like five hours ago at practice," Jeremiah laughed, fending them off with that smile I couldn't tear my eyes away from.

I felt a bit foolish just standing there, like an intruder on this moment. A mere chaperone to the festivities or a wallflower nobody noticed. I couldn't blame them; no one expected me, and for all they knew, I was just some girl walking down the sidewalk.

"Oh, shit, you're Belly!" one of the guys exclaimed. Dark-haired, perfectly styled, hazel eyes—captivating, although not quite like Jeremiah's.

The six boys, who had been a heap on the floor a moment ago, now turned their heads, and twelve eyes focused on me. My cheeks burned brighter than ever. All I could manage was a shy smile, resisting the urge to fiddle with the frayed edges of my denim shorts.

"Dude, she's hot, you're so right," one of them whispered not so quietly. The rest of them swarmed around me, all talking at once, a flurry of names thrown my way—EJ, Ricky, Wade, Brad, or maybe Chad? Perhaps Milo? It was overwhelming.

"Guys, back the hell up. Give her some space. You'll have plenty of time to get to know her." Jeremiah stepped in front of me, pushing two guys back slightly, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Some grumbled under their breath, but they all retreated, sneaking glances at me before heading into the house.

"Sorry about them; they're all a little excited," he laughed, brushing off his pants. "Come on, let me introduce you to everyone properly."

He slung an arm around my shoulder, leading the way into the grand house. I felt eyes on us, perhaps because I was new, or perhaps it was because I was with Jeremiah.

Soon enough, I realized it was the latter. Everyone seemed to know him. Girls waved, boys greeted him with handshakes, and people in the hallway greeted him with smiles. I shouldn't have been surprised; his personality was infectious, impossible not to like.

"Oh, Lacie is going to hate this," the guy I believed was EJ mused, handing us two solo cups. His gaze shifted to me and Jeremiah, their proximity not going unnoticed.

Who was Lacie, and why would she hate this? Jeremiah's arms released me to take the cups, one for me and the other for him. I could smell the pink liquid from here, reeking of alcohol. I wanted to tell Jeremiah I'd never had a drink before, but now didn't seem like the time. So instead, I kept the cup in my hand, far from my lips.

"Well, she's not here right now, and it doesn't matter because Lacie and I are done, have been for a while," Jeremiah stated firmly, speaking as if it were an undeniable truth. The guys all laughed. I hoped he hadn't had a girlfriend all this time; that would have been messed up.

"Who's Lacie?" I asked, and a dozen eyes darted back to me. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

One guy appeared from around the corner of the kitchen island, casually draping his arm around me, just like Jeremiah had. This was Wade, I think.

"Lacie is Jeremiah's—what's the opposite of a pain in the neck?" he turned to ask his friends, eliciting a chorus of laughter. "Actually, Jeremiah is Lacie's pain in the neck. She leads this guy around like a dog, and they break up every other month."

"Shut the hell up, Wade, and get off her," Jeremiah snapped, rolling his eyes as he downed the contents of his cup. Wade raised his hands in surrender, winking at me before retreating to the other side of the counter.

So Jeremiah was involved with someone, which was just great—really, it didn't bother me at all. Maybe she'd become a built-in girlfriend for me, making it easier to let go of whatever was happening between Jeremiah and me. Or maybe I'd just be jealous.

"Well, I can't wait to meet her," I smiled softly, pushing my full cup toward Jeremiah, who looked like he could use another drink right about now.

"Oh, I think you'll regret saying that," another guy chimed in—maybe Ricky?

"Yeah, if I were you, I'd keep a one-mile distance between you and Lacie," another guy added, perhaps that was Ricky. Whoever he was, he laughed and leaned against the counter across from me.

"I don't know who we're talking about, but if the answer is to avoid Lacie, I always vote yes," a voice sounded from behind me.

A short girl strolled over, hopping onto the countertop beside me before pressing her lips to EJ's in front of us all—a very public display, to say the least.

"Oh my god, you're Belly! Babe, why didn't you tell me she was here? I'm being, like, so rude right now," she whined, her eyes landing on me. She was incredibly pretty, with blondish wavy hair and an athletic frame on her petite body. She hopped off the counter in seconds, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, displaying remarkable strength for someone so small.

"I'm Taylor Jewel, your new neighbor and best friend," she declared with unshakable confidence. It seemed like she could walk into any room and make people fall in love with her. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I could definitely use a friend this year, I think, or a couple," I replied, glancing around at the boys who watched us with eager smiles. My mind was finally starting to ease.

"Back off, TayTay. Bells is my best friend. You can be second best," Jeremiah declared, slinging his arm around me once more, pulling my back flush against his chest. EJ protested in the background, claiming that he was Jeremiah's best friend. All I could do was laugh; maybe this school year would be even better than I anticipated.

"Jerebear!" a shrill voice called out above the booming music surrounding us. Everyone groaned, and Wade mouthed the word "run" to me, but it was already too late.

At first, I don't think she could see me. To be fair, I was still pressed up against Jeremiah, and he towered over me, obscuring my presence. Her voice cut short as she came around from behind us, her eyes finally landing on me.

This was precisely the girl I had expected Jeremiah to be with—tall, blonde, legs like a supermodel. She had pretty pink lips and eyes that were almost golden. Those eyes narrowed as they scanned me, taking in the proximity between me and Jeremiah.

"Who's this?" she asked, her lips forming a tight smile, her voice oozing with sickening sweetness. She waited expectantly for Jeremiah to say something—anything—but it was as if he had suddenly lost his ability to speak.

"Oh—uh, Belly! The Fisher's exchange student this year," I filled the awkward silence, pulling away from Jeremiah's grip and extending a hand toward her. She never took it, instead flashing me a condescending smile—one that made me feel small, a feeling I vowed not to let define me this year.

"I'm Lacie," she said tightly, her eyes shifting back up to Jeremiah. "His girlfriend," she clarified. If this had happened before I heard Jeremiah's confident denial, I might have believed her. If she had shaken my hand, I might have been more forgiving. But instead, I offered her my best smile.

"Oh, that's so funny, Jere never mentioned you this summer. Nice to meet you, though."