#it combines my three beloved languages

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

Xia Meng, also known as Hsia Moog or Miranda Yang (Sunrise, Bride Hunter)—For those who are familiar with Hong Kong's early cinema, Xia Meng is THE leading woman of an era, the earliest "silver-screen goddess", "The Great Beauty" and "Audrey Hepburn of the East". Xia Meng starred in 38 films in her 17-year career, and famously had rarely any flops, from her first film at the age of 18 to her last at the age of 35. She was a rare all-round actress in Mandarin-language films, acting, singing, and dancing with an enchanting ease in films of diverse genres, from contemporary drama to period operas. She was regarded as the "crown princess" among the "Three Princesses of the Great Wall", the iconic leading stars of the Great Wall Movie Enterprises, which was Hong Kong's leading left-wing studio in the 1950s-60s. At the time, Hong Kong cinema had only just taken off, but Xia Meng's influence had already spread out to China, Singapore, etc. Overseas Chinese-language magazines and newspapers often featured her on their covers. The famous HK wuxia novelist Jin Yong had such a huge crush on her that he made up a whole fake identity as a nobody-screenwriter to join the Great Wall studio just so he can write scripts for her. He famously said, "No one has really seen how beautiful Xi Shi (one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China) is, I think she should be just like Xia Meng to live up to her name." In 1980, she returned to the HK film industry by forming the Bluebird Movie Enterprises. As a producer with a heart for the community, she wanted to make a film on the Vietnam War and the many Vietnam War refugees migrating to Hong Kong. She approached director Ann Hui and produced the debut film Boat People (1982), a globally successful movie and landmark feature for Hong Kong New Wave, which won several awards including the best picture and best director in the second Hong Kong Film Award. Years later, Ann Hui looked back on her collaboration with Xia Meng, "I'm very grateful to her for allowing me to make what is probably the best film I've ever made in my life."

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Xia Meng:

Marlene Dietrich:

ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face

its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

[tmwcs]

WARNINGS: This is written in Heethan’s y/n perspective, mentions of ritualistic killings, alternative universes, religious references (some accurate and some fictional), all heeleads, all y/n’s, references to SE7EN, MERMAIDS TALE, MGR/MRE/HHP, THE OTHERSIDE and DOUBLE TROUBLE (I would high suggest reading all these series before reading this), unprotected smut, angels and demons, angels are bad guys, devils are good guys, kidnapping, time and space travel, alternate characters, some cursing, grotesque language, sexual tension, some fluff, and some intermingling moments, (enough to give you some ideas 😏) images and smaus attached, cliche rescue mission, and I think that’s it.

A/N: this was just an idea that came to mind as I was listening to music. A fun read.

Turmoil stirs the middle of the sky, a collection of debris, dust, and smoke circulate within it. The strong current of gravitational force absorbs bits and pieces of man-made features, further expanding its reign of terror.

It was a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of evil spirits, angels, and demons combined, formulating an abomination that was neither Heaven, nor Hell. Two worlds of entities unite, all embracing the common ground that humans were a non-sensible creation by God. In their eyes, humans were nothing but livestock for the immortals.

The senior head of this ritualistic army had an idea—a new image for the aged world, where unearthly entities would herd and breed the human race…In preparation for the grand feast. With this process in place, the world would be controlled by themselves, gaining power to extend their influence through alternate space and time. All the parallel universes that were constantly being created, would become restricted, ceasing the expansion of human life.

“My followers…the time has come where we need to take back what is owed to us. WE have lurked in darkness far too long, feeding on the scraps of these scavengers…these HUMANS!” His head contained three faces, one centered and nestled in between the two disfigured profiles. Their mouths remained wide open, agasp with horror while the center focal features did all the talking, carrying all the range of emotions. “WE have been betrayed by both, God and the Devil…the two fathers who should have been nurturing us, ignored our caution instead. They turned their backs on us; made us starve as we craved for sustenance and glory…but no more! Today, we strike and take the blood of the most beloved, the one who carries the light of God, and the blood of Lucifer! This I pray…my demons of carnage, and angels of darkness…do not stop at just the one…take them all! Search through every vortex of this abysmal continent. Go above the universal horizon, far and wide through space and time, and gather your efforts— leave no part of the cosmic galaxy unturned. Raid the entire universes, all worlds, and bring me her adaptations. Bring forth every variation of her current soul, so that we may tear, grind, and feast on that delicate flesh…let us hit them where it hurts most…let us seek to make God cry, and break the heart of the Devil.”

The spawn of angels and demons scatter in mass multitudes, covering the entire sky while they surpass greater heights, surrounding their numbers across every comet and planet.

Finding you in this world was simple. Entirely too easy…

Like any other given day, you sat in class next to h/n, drafting the primary notes as your professor read the lecture aloud. The yelling of a fellow classmate startled the entire classroom, catching everyone off guard.

“What the fuck is that?!”

Everyone turned to view the scenery outside the window. The light blue sky grows dark, as the horizon blackened with a darkened hue. The foliage draping the tree branches suddenly shriveled and died off. The air around the building turned black; everyone became frantic and ignored the professor's false sense of composure. He tried his best but it was easy to see that he too was frightened and didn’t know how to handle the stirring frenzy that took place inside the room.

“What the Hell is going on?! Why did the sky get so dark all of a sudden?” H/n spoke out with tears glossing over her eyes as the girl sitting next to her called home. She hectically informs her mother of the unknowns that were happening outside the campus, all the while you barely spoke, or reacted as you overheard the girl's decree. The shock of it all stunned you; it wasn’t until your phone began buzzing that you came back to your senses.

The moment his own classmates sporadically spiraled out of control, Heeseung wasted no time in getting out. He had to get to you.

You were the first priority on his list. Ignoring his own safety, he bursts through the door— the only one brave enough to kick it wide open before sprinting towards the parking lot. Everyone whispered and spoke harshly as they watched the young man making his way over to you. God help anyone if something happens to you.

In an instant, everything turned upside down. You’re not sure what or how it happened, but it felt as if a group of hands were pulling you from side to side, pushing and tugging at the same time. Looking around, it seemed as if time was at a standstill. The entire class paused in mid motion, gravity lost its effect as students jumping out the window were stationed in mid air, unmoved. What was going on? Were you the only one that could move? The only one that wasn’t affected by this loss of motion? If so….did that mean that Heeseung…

……..

It occurred in a blink of an eye.

What the hell just happened? For a moment, Heeseung felt as if his heart had stopped beating. It happened during mid drive, when suddenly the roaring engine slurred, and the small bit of ash and debris in the air slowed until they froze in place. It wasn’t long before his own movements came to a pause, and before he knew it, he could no longer breathe. It was odd, despite not being able to take in air, the pressure from his chest was fine, almost as if he was holding his own breath.

It held on for two seconds before the distant sound of the engine grew louder and the tires resumed rotation, causing a sudden screeching noise to puncture his ears. What the fuck…!

The only thing that lingered on his mind was you. Shit…y/n! Hold on baby…

By the time he reached the building, merely two minutes after receiving your last text, you had already been taken.

Everyone stood wondering just the same as to what had occurred. They looked around and noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except when h/n pointed out your sudden absence. “Huh?…Anyone seen where y/n went? She was just right…here….”

Her voice subtly pauses as Heeseung silently walks through the double doors, with you nowhere in sight…his heart dropped to his stomach and a total sense of despair hit him. He wanted to die…he wanted to shake the earth to its core and kill off every bit of life that coated the surface. A state of hopelessness and emptiness fills him.

‘Y/n…’

…….

One by one, the entities visited alternate universes and found four more women, conjoining them as prisoners and leaving you all chained in a row. Brought forth, you all were all scanned with a morbid look of satisfaction as an alienated, metallic figure screeched through hundreds of jagged teeth, directing its elongated fingers to a specific direction. It was communicating with its more fleshy counterparts.

They marched you and the remaining maidens into a large bunker, nearly shoving you all down the uneasy steps. Once inside, a single light source allows you to take in the view of the abrupt companionship you were forced to confront.

‘Is…is this for real?’

The strangest phenomenon you ever witnessed. It was as if you were staring into a mirror, or a twin…several twin versions in fact.

These girls…they were…you. Some of them displayed subtle alterations of your appearance such as hair and eye color, even a small difference in age. But make no mistake, you pinched the skin on your arm as you confirmed that indeed, you were seeing yourself in various substitutions.

“I…don’t believe this…are you all….who are you?” One of the girls reflected aloud. Just as lost as you were, each one took a moment to observe the variations of…you.

A terrifying screech sounds off outside the bunker, similar to that of the metallic humanoid creature from earlier.

“What are those things?” The one who spoke, she looked and sounded exactly like you. It was such a surreal experience to see this happening in real time.

She looked more mature. With her sense of style and elegance, she encompassed the very essence of classy feminine virtue, a version that you always saw in yourself in the near future, when you were married and already graduated from college. Her hair and eye color were lighter than yours, but the structure of her face and body, the finer details of her expression and features were an exact match to your own.

“Does anyone know why we are here? What do those things want from us?” another variation of yourself spoke delicately.

Unlike the latter, who had hair that was fair and eyes that sparkled in chromes of light blue, this one had dark forest green hair, and feline eyes, which were both fierce and strikingly beautiful. She had the appeal of one with great wisdom and maturity, a variation of yourself that you never could imagine would exist. She continued to speak, pondering on the forceful monsters that wreaked havoc above and outside the bunker. “The one we saw earlier, whose body looked like metal, was that a...”

A calm voice speaks gracefully, politely inserting into the conversation. Her voice was slightly deeper, and tranquil, but not as twinkling as the one who carried the forest green locks. With those lips, stained blood red and coated with a subtle shine, she answers…“They’re angels.”

Everyone else turned to face in her direction. You all stared and admired the royal grace she portrays in her stance, it gave off an aura that reflected her higher age. It didn’t appear in her face, but it was through her persona and posture. Just like the one with the emerald strands, she displayed elegance in all aspects; her features, tone, and strut. Of all the variations that stood before you, she was the one you became most curious about.

“Angels? As in…from heaven?” Another variation, except this one seemed much more calm—perhaps too much.

Her lids were heavy and she spoke with a monotone voice. Her hair was stained a deep and vibrant color. It looked somewhat fresh, and contained a specific shade of purple, but not just any code of the color. It was not lavender, violet, or even muave, but more like a royal purple…it was as if the color was mixed specifically to match a certain shade. Maybe a particular flower? Perhaps it was made to match a blouse, or a type of fabric, like silk.

Noticing her demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel sorry as you took pity on this image of yourself; one that carried a dark sadness around, yet somehow flared a sense of contentment. It was contradicting, yet there eas something else that you couldn’t pin down about her. Almost as if she was carrying a nightmarish secret, but did it out of protection. Only question was, who is she protecting? Was it herself? Or could it be…?

You catch yourself drifting in thought when one of the girls asks your age. She inquired by stating that you looked the youngest, which was confirmed correct after you answered. Between you and your alternate state of beings, your ages ranged from eighteen to twenty eight, the latter title of the eldest belonging to the one with the dark burgundy lips.

She gazes up to the cathedral ceiling and crosses her arms, speaking out each word so confidently. Her hair was dark, nearly black with a deep, red hue…like red wine, and nails to match. She radiated a contrasting theme of goth and sensual femininity, like light and darkness combined. Everyone thought the same as they pondered on the mysteriously alluring sense of their alternate identity.

“Angels? How do you know? Have you seen them before?” The eldest one nods in response. Her eyes were heavy, as if she experienced a loss in energy recently. Still, she remained ever so composed and fashionable in Vogue like nature. You couldn’t help but think it, as somewhat narcissistic the thought may have seemed, but you found yourself idolizing what very much was the future outlook of yourself.

“This is so strange…it’s so weird to see…you…or me…I mean….what are we, exactly?” You sputtered as you make eye contact with the seldom one with the royal purple thatch of hair. She smiled softly and was the first one to respond.

“I am almost sure what our names will be, but I’ll be the first to say it…my name is y/n…”

Everyone snapped their heads up and chuckled in delight. Finally, a sense of relaxed humor amongst this terrifying ordeal. “We all have the same name?” The fairer version of you spoke, admitting for all of you to find comfort within each other.

The former y/n continued. “I guess we do.” You smile sweetly as you inquire about her background, to which she gently responds. “I worked as a consultant after graduating college and… “ she pauses, catching her breath. It was evident that the girl had been through a traumatizing experience, or maybe was still going through it all. Yet she displayed some fortitude as she completed her sentence. “I live with my husband…somehow I was brought here and I don’t have any memory of it. It happened so fast.”

“Me too….” The fairer one spoke. Her shiny hair gracefully rested beneath her collarbones as she spoke through her matte rosy stained lips. A beautiful combination. You couldn’t get over this experience, It was miraculous to see yourself with those featured traits. You wondered if variations of those closest to you exist, like Heeseung, Jake, and H/n. The thought of the three suppressed your slight bit of happiness as you wondered if you’d be able to escape with the others.

“I live with my husband too…well…husbands, if we’re being completely open.”

You all perked a brow upon her words. Did those rosy lips just tell you correctly…“Husbands?”

She nods seldomly while interlocking her fingers above the waist, avoiding eye contact and instead, focusing on a spot on the floorboards. “Yes….my husbands are brothers…and through them I have two boys of my own.” She pauses as her eyes welt up. “I…was putting my boys to sleep when something pulled me away from them…it was strange…it almost seemed like time was standing still.”

“Me too!” You spoke out. “I saw the same thing when I was pulled away.”

The fairer one smiled at you. “You are still so young…a younger version of myself.” Her change of topic was so sudden but she could see it in your face, hear it in your voice, and see it in your movements; seeing you in fluid motion made her visit down memory lane. “Yes.” You answered as you returned the smile. “I'm almost finished with my first year at college…I live with my fiance in his dorm.”

You all chuckled.

“His dorm?” The fairer one teases. “Yes well…believe it or not I don’t really have a choice.” You jest, yet the statement held more truth than anything you ever admitted.

It didn’t take time to consider their reaction. Upon hinting at Heeseung’s dark and toxic nature, it soon became evident you weren’t the only one. Unknowingly, you would open up another path that you all shared in common.

“He keeps you there?” You nod as the one with the dark forest green hair spoke. “Ah…” she sighs. “Just like mine…at least he used to. Now…well, I gave up. There wasn’t any point in fighting it.”

She chuckles once more as she rubs her temples, finding the entire scenario ironic. “I too live with my husband…it started just as forcefully as your situation but it’s been over two years now…” she pauses. The rest of the girl’s all related, all but you.

“Well…it is forceful but…he has good intentions, doesn’t he?” You inquired as the one with the dark green hair looks back up. A faint smile dons her lips as her delicate nails caressed her chin. With beauty and truth to her tone, she responded, almost in caution of warning. “Just like your fiance, he has the best…and the worst intentions.”

“What about you? Are you also married to a psycho? Or two?” The one married to dual husbands jokes, stabbing at her own life as she includes the last variant into the conversation. The eldest; she was the most elusive one out of all of you.

Turning her face over, she delivers a soft gaze and looks at each one of you with such nurture in her expression. Through those dark burgundy lips, she spoke gently. “I do.” She lightly chuckles. “I live with my husband, and much like all of you…I didn’t really have a choice.”

Closing her eyes, she reopens with a fresh countenance. Licking her loose she chuckles and tilts her head, taking small steps over to you. She cups your face and displays a saddened look, yet it was paired with a sweet smile. Her gaze hinted that she knew something…or maybe she could see something within your future that made her pity you.

With her intuitional sense, and foresighting ability, she reveals your deepest secret.

“You have another side of you…one that is equal to his darker half.”

Was she referring to Eden and Ethan? But…how does she know?

You slightly gasp as you remained stunned by her words. She looks over to the one with the dark green hair. “You and your husband carry the blood of the ancient gods within you.”

In response, the sea maiden looked somewhat confused. “How could you possibly know that?”

The former admits partial truth to her own secret. “I know all…I can see all….I can see your most inner kept secrets just by looking into your eyes. It was a gift from my husband after we were…” she pauses after catching herself diving down to details to at may be too indiscreet. The image of Heeseung’s devilish form atop of her, probing and thrusting away was not something she wanted the girls to visualize…she rather not think about it herself, despite the progression of her relationship to the aforementioned male. “Married.”

She turns to the fairer one, and continues to prove her capabilities. “Your husbands sired their own twin sons within you, and through those babies, you found true love.” The latter looks down, almost shamefully. Yet the eldest tilts her chin up and whispers, “nothing wrong with that.” She winks and smiles, and watched as those rosy colored lips smirked delightfully. This was, after all, a safe space for sisters who share more than just identical traits. You were all connected, through fate and soul.

She looked to the one with the royal purple hair. “Your husband's deeds have haunted you. With nowhere to turn, you chose to return his love but you are ridden with sadness knowing that you are his cure.”

The purple haired y/n didn’t say a word, she only nodded in admittance while drifting her sight off to the wall.

“As for me…” she pauses as she faces the ceiling once more. “I made a deal with the Devil many years ago. Through it, I lost my mortality, and gained immortality…I am known as the mortal daughter of God, but rebirthed as the bride of Helel...my husband, and father to my son.”

“Helel?” Through her purple strands, the girl spoke out of confusion. Never has she heard such a distinctive name in her life.

Just as the conversation reached pause, the door to the bunker opens. A combination of the hostile angels and demons standby. A disfigured tone emits from their tongue as they point and begin separating you away from one another.

You felt scared upon seeing the fleshy demon grip your wrist, pulling you away as the others were being dragged into sporadic direction. The girls all tried their best to fight off the large swarm, and recollect. Through a shared sense, there was a need to get back to you, the younger version of themselves. The need to protect each other and stay together remained strong, however, the monsters proved too strong as their numbers increased. They found it easier to carry you away into singular, isolated chambers. The echoes of their screams, sounding so much like your own voice, become distant and unheard.

You backed yourself against the cold stone wall and slid down until the tile flooring meets your rear. All seemed hopeless at this point. The terrifying sounds of demonic growls and piercing angelic screeches merge from outside the door, all frenzying as they carry out their next deed, whatever that could be. It was too frightening to think about. What is going to happen? How is Heeseung going to save you this time? Your Heeseung…the one who is always there to bring you back home…how is he going to possibly find you? You don’t even know where you are.

‘Heeseung…I’m scared.’

You wonder if the others felt just as scared and hopeless.

The fear of being lonesome started to eat you alive, it was far worse than when Heeseung carried out one of his punishments, and locked you away for breaking his rules. You hated it more than ever, being secured away in darkness and suffering from desolation. Looking back at it, his method seemed tamed compared to how you were currently being treated.

You also knew, despite succumbing to the harsh effects of being tied to a bed frame, or locked inside a closet, at least the comfort of knowing he was going to be around…that he was always going to come back to get you, whether it was hours or a day later, was something you had lost appreciation for in the past, but yearned for it more than ever. He was always there to make sure you were safe, despite carrying out an act that clearly violated your human rights…it was his way of loving you…his manner of understanding it.

‘I wouldn’t have to do this shit if you’d listen and just do what I tell you. It’s all for a good reason…”

His words from past recollections continue to play in your head.

‘To keep you safe…and to keep you as MINE. Get it through that dumb, pretty little head of yours already. No matter how many times you fight me on this, you’re going to lose.’

You used to scoff at his justification, growing irritated at his own resolve. You always figured he was overreacting.

All those times when you were caught speaking to someone from class outside at the parking lot, didn’t matter if they were boy or girl, he’d always became so possessively evil, and jealous. His handsome smirk goes from dashing to sinister as he lets out the wolf from its cage: Ethan.

But no matter how emotionally tormenting…or mentally abusive he could be…one thing would always remain true, and that was his unyielding love for you…just you.

The door knob twists violently as the door panel rambles, snapping you out of mid thought. You stood up and cornered yourself, completely frightened by what was on the other side. Finally breaking open, it swings wide inward. You swore your eyes were going to fall through the sockets. It couldn’t be… “H-Heeseung?”

Tears balled up and your heart pauses in mid-pulse. He steps closer in towards the light and there you saw, it was Heeseung…but he seemed different. His attire was similar, but his hair…it carried a particularly familiar shade of purple, just like—

“Hmph…” he smirks, daring a bold look as he scans you up and down. “So this is what you looked like when you were eighteen.”

The way his words growled upon stating your tender age sent a shiver up your spine, a familiar sense that you were accustomed to. “Damn, so this is what you were like at eighteen… you were just born perfect, weren’t you?” A snarling wink flashes you.

He reaches and grabs your wrist. “Gotta hurry princess.”

Leading the way and keeping you close behind, he rubs his fingers and gently massages your skin in his hold. His cologne was so different from the Heeseung you knew. It was a musky scent of blue agave and sandalwood.

Luring you around every corner, running past a hall filled with portraits, you finally configured where the entities had been keeping you, it was an old church.

“W-what about the others…the other—“

He calmly interjects as you stuttered, trying to find a way to describe the collection of your alternate self, including the one who you suspected belonged to him.

“We should be seeing them soon.” He spoke as he remained attentive to the surroundings. You were so taken aback by his resemblance that you were ignorant of the weapon he held…a machete?

“H-how did you find us?” You questioned. He tightens his grasp as he leads you down a spiraling staircase, completely made of stone. “Met the others—something about getting all of the you’s and I’s out, and back to our respective universes. There was also something about a demon who wanted to piss off God, and the Devil, blah, blah, blah.”

He spoke carelessly and left out all of the vague details as he remained focused in getting you to safety. Just as you both reached the main cathedral, you witness from across the wide room, all the other variants of yourself were being guided by Heeseung, a few of them. The one right across had ash-blonde hair and….a dark haired one trailing behind…

The y/n with the dark forest green hair stood out as they centered her, providing three-sixty coverage of security. Once they saw you and the Purpled haired Heeseung leading you, they led the other you to rejoin and come to center, surrounding you both in a combative formation.

Also rejoining the group was the one who had the dark purple locks that matched the Heeseung who rescued you; behind her was the alternate version of yourself that carried the red-wine lips. The girls were guided by a version of Heeseung, whose eyes glowed blue and his hair was dark as the ocean.

In the opposite direction, from the corner of your eye you catch on to the fair alternate you, and in front, was him…there he was…Heeseung…your Heeseung, and Ethan.

You could see both entities behind those dangerous eyes. Seeing you safe, along with all the other girls restored life to his gaze as he smiled and felt the weight lifted off his shoulders. ‘There you are…there’s my pretty baby.’

Without stopping, they continued to urge you all to run as they herd each of you to stay centered in their squad position, forming an arrow shape around you and the girls.

Aside from the machete, the other Heeseung’s all bore their own weapons, and from the looks of it, they were most likely found on display in the upper dungeons, which you concluded is where you and the others were being kept prior to being saved.

Your Heeseung gripped on two long swords, while the twins had an ax and a long, steel club, similar to a bat. The other Heeseung with the azure hair skillfully handled a rifle, and had a pistol holstered to his thigh.

The moment of uniting didn’t last pleasantly as the stone tile beneath your feet shook, and the light fixtures rattled above. Something was coming, and it carried enough anger to swell up his size.

Each booming placement of its foot stomping the ground quaked the earth. Just seconds after stabilizing your ground, the grand entrance starts to crack. The arch lining and pillars split apart as an overly muscular frame, with humanoid expressions, enters. He ducked his head in by tucking the chin while the ceiling began to crumble above. When he revealed himself fully, you and the other girls gasped at the horrid sight of the monster before you.

His face was split into three, with six pairs of horns that adorned each head, eluding terrible and frightening expressions. His body was similar to that of a man, with exaggerated muscles that looked to produce enough strength that of an entire army. A long offensive tongue spills out of his evil grin as jagged and serrated teeth flash from the joker wide grin. His eyes resembled that of a goat or sheep, but larger. With both hands containing claws that reached measurement by the foot, you winced at the thought of being grabbed by them. The palms contained numerous spurred teeth that formed hooks, similar to the mouth of a parasite, such as a leech. In fact, his entire body was covered with them, slowly fading as they reached the three facial expressions. There were lacerations that appeared on his chest, opening and closing sporadically. They blinked repeatedly with horrendous teeth and eyes peeking out from beneath the tissue and skin. What on earth was this creature?

Standing in his full glory, he speaks with a diabolical tone. “Leave the women behind, and I shall spare your lives, and bless you with power and immortality. You will become the generals of my league.”

The boys all stood in line, keeping you and the others behind, guarding with their own lives at stake, willing and ready to take on anything. Rather than seeing any bit of you harmed, they all remained solid as they would rather die or be tortured than to see a single scratch on anyone of your bodies. The creature takes their gesture with jests, chuckling before he adds on to his demand.

“You are not the one that I care to gut and split open, yet if you insist, it will be my utmost pleasure to rip all of you apart in front of your precious darlings, and then feast on your corpse afterwards.”

You held on to the girl with the purple locks. Her matured instincts kick in, knocking away the original demeanor she carried before. The troubled and quiet woman feels the need to cradle you, a younger version of herself, and presses you against her chest while she covers your eyes. Peeking out from the corner of her embrace, you saw the purple haired Heeseung peer a faint side eye, noting the comfort she was providing, and the fear that stayed by it. His eyes met with hers, eluding a look of reassurance, as if he were telling her that he wasn’t going to let anything happen. Not him, or his alternate figures.

Heethan also takes in the image of your sheltering. His stern and yet relieved facial expression showed the two sides of his being, Heeseung, and Ethan. He emits a quick nod the moment you make eye contact. ‘Not today…not ever. Nothing is touching a single inch of you, pretty baby.’

The remaining alternate versions of yourself come and join in, grouping you in the center as you all remain behind the boys. The eldest stood right in between, establishing an embrace to shield you and the others as her back was facing the row of Heeseung’s. All five of them stood, readily armed as the creature's patience ran thin. Taking a step forward, the ground cracks, stones protrude inward and wouldn’t hold much longer, nearly collapsing.

The boys step back, urging all of you to back away with caution. You all suddenly halt your movements to safety at the sight of numerous demons and angels suddenly entering from all directions in the cathedral, trapping the entire group to the center beneath the large chandelier.

“It’s useless.” The creature spoke out as his tongue splits into two. “God asked for this…the Devil wanted this.”

The eldest produces a harsh side eye at the creature's mentioning of the latter. Her dark red-wined lips quiver open faintly as she hisses toward the mentioning of his name. The audacity of this creature.

“If only they had heeded our words, and met our demands. We would not be as blood starved. You mortals…you children of the Earth, deserve torture that exceeds the worst kind of death in existence. I should have been granted eternal life in his holy kingdom. It is I, who should have been throned as one of the seven Princes of Hell. Yet both God and Lucifer denied me of what is owed to me. They should have recognized me! The demon Molech! Now…God shall bear witness to the human existence coming to its end, beginning with his only daughter, and the sisters that share her form and soul. Let the heart of the Devil fall into despair upon realizing that his only love would be violated with her innards split, and torn from bone.”

Molech crouches into position, nearly ready to pounce through the boys, and straight to you and the girls. You all could see it in his eyes, the glaring reflection of you and the girls as his primary target. “May all of you scream as I devour you alive, and shit out your guts onto the stones of this very church. I will splatter your organs for all to witness what is coming.”

He lunges forward. It was the last known image that replayed in your head spontaneously as you cringed onto the girls.

The movement happened so fast, and the entire group of you screamed as the boys grit their teeth, yet silence…fills the air. Not a single sound of bone cracking skin tearing, and blood curdling screams sounded off after Molech made his offensive move.

You’re not sure what happened. You were bracing for impact and for the unthinkable to occur, yet moments passed and you realized that everyone stood, remaining whole and without injury. Still warmed by the embrace of the girls, you slowly open your eyes.

From what you could deduce, the figure had pummeled down from above, piercing through the ceiling of the church strategically so as to not fully crumble its structure. With a hand buried deep into Molech’s back, it pierces through the monstrous flesh as the thousands of small teeth that covered his hideous body attempts to cut through the sleeve of his black coat. You admired his beautiful form as large black-feathered wings extend magnificently from his back. He resembled paintings that depicted Heaven’s arch-angels.

Appearing as a Victorian prince, he slowly rises from his crouching stance. Dressed in dark, vintage-goth attire, he stands gloriously, releasing his stabbing hold of the demon beneath the soles of his boots. The thatch of black hair matched that of his feathers, so dark that it contained a blood red hue under the dim glare. As his face comes to light, your breath escapes so suddenly—you swore your heart skipped a beat…it was Heeseung. Another alternate variation of your beloved.

“Helel…” the elder y/n breathes out through her dark stained lips while gazing at her husband. A look of relief accompanies her whispering softness as he shifts a quick look over, feeling much relieved himself after seeing her unharmed.

With a wild smirk, he speaks. His voice was deep and dark, yet soft as he adoringly addressed her. “My queen.”

His eyes matches his tone as they soften; the murderous glare hushes down to a look of tranquility. “Love of my eternal life…I’ve come to bring you back home with me…where you belong.”

The beauty of love and passion between the two is cut short as Molech suddenly strikes, yet misses as Heeseung, or Helel, springs off to the side, levitating from a distance. He was so fast. His speed was inhuman as you and the others watched the demon making many failed attempts to catch him. “You WILL take her back, as you will join her at death by my hand! YOU—are nothing but a failed angel, and a false prince!”

Mech spoke out his poisonous words, yet seeing the calmed expression on the Prince's face irked him as Helel remained unbothered, so long as his darling was safe.

The very last bit of his words barely spit out as Helel dives in, like a flash of light. With his much smaller frame, he is enumerated strength that surpasses Molechs as he grips the demon by another piercing hold, this time, it was through the center of his chest. The creature’s internal organs flare up, lighting as if they were being filled with lava. His skin became transparent as you all viewed the spewing of fluids secreting from the burns. He screams in pain as the sores on his body leak liquified tissue, melting the outer layer of skin. “I think your visit here is over-welcomed, Molech.”

Helel’s voice turns dark, with a clenched jaw, he continues to burn the demon from the inside out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be seeing you very shortly, and I’ll deal with you then. Be ready…” he narrows his eyes and brings the center face of the demon closer, his lips nearly touching the demon's chin. Smirking, Helel slides the tip of his nose upwards, forcing the demon to look him directly in the eye, all the while he whispers…

“I am going to split you open with my claws—piss on your organs, feed you to those miserable shits at the River Styx, watch as they shit you out, and scatter your remains across the depths of MY Hell. You’ll be nothing but fertilizer for my wife’s pretty little poppy garden, and she will smile every waking moment upon watching them grow from your own demise.”

With the last of Molech’s breath, he extends his middle claw, flicking off his own former master as he shamelessly words out “fuck you.”

Helel only grins in amusement, further aggravating the demon. Whispering, Heeeseung—or Helel, responds back one final time before finishing off the demon. “Nah…nobody fucks with the Devil—except her.” He glances over to his one and only, his own y/n. “She fucks me all the time, sometimes with tears staining her face and her bottom lip clenched between her teeth. She loves fucking with the Devil…” shifting another look over, he directs his tone in bold, over to his wife. “Ain’t that right baby?”

His wife settles a submissive display of affection and obedience as she quietly nods. “Yeah…you fucking love me. And I fucking love the Hell outta you.” His eyes widen entirely too ecstatically as his pupils shrink. Of all the moments you witnessed Heeseung’s most terrifying expressions, nothing surpassed the one his devilish alternate. It was the most terrifying thing you’ve seen, even more so than the dying demon at his hand.

He releases an antagonizing chuckle as you felt a slight shake within your chest, all due to the way he spoke of his love. He was so twisted, possessive, and dementing, but the love and admiration he showered her was above all sorts of love. It was unreal.

“And you know what else Molech? She will be the one to rule over the demons that will fuck your soul for all eternity. THAT…is what it means to obey your fucking queen.” At that, you all bear witness as Helel finishes Molech off.

But things were far from over, the remaining demons and angels who retaliated against their respective masters remained loyal to their desires, despite Molech being gone, and said former master currently present. Despite witnessing Helel kill off their only leadership, they were stubborn enough to follow through, until death stopped them.

“What’s next?” One of the Heeseung twins spoke, gripping his weapon.

“Take the girls and run. Keep going until you reach the end of the bridge.” Helel calmly instructs, eyeballing the swarm that was closing in. “And you?” One of the other Heeseung’s spoke, inquiring Helel’s role during the escape.

“Heh.” With a smirk and the narrowing of his dark eyes, he extends his wings out as he flares off a hand, claws extending and growing in an offensive length before your very own eyes. “It’s time for me to tuck the kids in, and say goodnight.” Leaving no room for response, his super speed causes a mirage of his movements as he levitates up, and like a sparrow, dives down as he takes out numerous demons and angels at once. In doing so, he creates an open path for everyone to escape.

“Let’s go!” Your Heeseung yells out as he grabs on to the dark forest haired y/n, and quickly leads the way. With all the other Heeseung’s following suit, they latch on to each and every single one of you. The purple haired y/n holds onto your hand as she is being led by the blue haired Heeseung.

“Watch out!” The fair one screams, watching as a group of demons head directly towards your direction.

In an instant, they abruptly pause as they reach within one arm's distance. A soothing tune echoes in the air; a semi high pitch voice that reminded you of bells, it sings and creates a euphoric atmosphere. The demons struggle as they try to resist, staggering a myriad of movements before succumbing to the soft sound of mystical and angelic voice.

“Wha-what is that?” The fairer y/n speaks out, when suddenly the blue haired Heeseung tells the boys, “cover your ears and eyes, now!”

You watched as the males covered followed his instruction, patiently waiting for the signal to free their hearing and sight. The one that gave warning stood and provided cover. He didn’t seem so concerned with himself, or so it would appear as he placed no effort in obstructing his vision or hearing. The demons couldn’t resist the soft tone of the woman’s voice, and started to conduct the demands as she spelled out their death sentence.

“Look into my eyes…and hear my voice. Tell me that you love me…” the demons roar in agony as the look of pained lust takes over. “Take out your heart. Rip it from your chests, and present it as a token of your love for me…do it…for meeee.”

Her voice drifts. It was so alluring and other-worldly.

You turned around and bore witness as to who was responsible for the spell-binding act. It was the variant of yourself, the one with the forest green hair. You gasped in magnificence as you saw the transformation of her features darken, becoming seductively bold and eye-catching. Her eyes grew dark, yet glowed. The winged tip lining of her beautiful peepers became more fierce, and her lips grew darker in shade, resembling the color of a Plum. The changed produced a smoldering expression that reeked of every man’s lust and desire. She spoke out terrible things, and yet, each demon did as she bids, meeting a demise by their own hand.

Her counterpart smirks, gazing over to his darling as her expression slowly goes back to its original state. “Siren.” He winked over as he breathed out the name of her lineage.

With a faint smile of her own, she returns the look by flaring a cool attitude out of jest. “Adam.”

Everyone continues on the path as you all make way onto the high bridge, beginning the cross. Up ahead, a swarm of angels swing down, resting near the end of the bridge and form a metallic barricade. They mutate their limbs into active mechanical saws with rotating blades, and unbeknownst to the lot of you, this was a familiar sight for one particular y/n.

“Get behind me.” She tells everyone, and you watch as the Devil’s wife shows you her immortality, and extends her own beautiful wings. “Y-y/n! You have wings!” You and the girls exclaimed, pleasantly surprised by the remarkable sight of the pearlescent white feathers, a stark contrast from her husbands. Barely hidden in the undercarriage of one wing, a small spot resting closest to her body, were black feathers. A part of him.

Extending her angelic feathers, she takes flight just like her husband, and gains unbelievable height before swooping down, taking out the entire offensive line of the angels. Split cleanly in half, they lay restlessly as their limbs twitch and mouths screeched out their dying pains.

The group continues to run, with every alternate variation of you and Heeseung joining hands and intermingling.

A sudden jolt yanks you back, causing you to yelp out in pain. It pulls you back, tearing you from the others.

“Shit!” Heethan breathes out in ultimate fear as a lonesome demon begins to crawl over you. Its tongue glides over your skin, preparing to digest your face when in a blink of an eye, the demon is suspended in the air, and thrown off the bridge. Helel swoops to your side, extending a hand; you take it, joining palms. Feeling your grip, he lifts away and carries you off in flight to rejoin the others.

“Let’s go.” The eldest y/n urges once they witness you safe, much to Heeseung's delight. He swore he felt his heart explode for a second, but redemption came at its finest upon seeing you safe, once again. Guess he has the Devil to thank for that.

Your body reaches unbelievable height as Helel holds you by the waist, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You made the mistake of looking down and felt the hopeless sensation of dangling high above, seeing the group as microscopic figures as they make their way to the end of the bridge. Your grip tightens and by doing so, you pull yourself closer to the former archangel.

“Hmph…” he smirks against your cheek, inhaling your sweet scent as you slowly turn to face him. Staring at him with a wide and an innocent gaze, he reaches up and moves a piece of hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Pretty little thing, you have nothing to fear…”

He leans in closer, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he pulls you even closer. His nose meets with yours, and his lips brush against your skin. He looks so much like Heeseung—your Heeseung. Like him, there was a mixture of kindness and malice, producing love and contentment. Whispering against your lips he finishes…

“Whether it be you, or the others like her, I’ll never let any part of my y/n to fall.”

His wings cave in, cradling you to his chest. He places a soft and gentle kiss on your lips, progressing into one that reaches certain depths from inside your mouth. His tongue feeds through and unlike his cold skin, it was warm. You openly invited him to explore further as you couldn’t resist this version of your beloved. He was so powerful, and out of this world, you just had to gain a taste, and prayed that your own Heeseung would never find out what was happening in the sky above.

His hand reaches the back of your neck, pulling you in as he deepens the kiss. He pulls slightly back, much to your dismay, and takes in the sight of your expression. It was full of lust and desire; you stared back with heavy lids and a soft pant escaping. He smirks before licking your bottom lip, and places a smaller peck on your nose. “Good girl.” He whispers, before tightening his embrace, and taking flight— merging you with the others.

Reaching ground, he gently places you down and watches as you run over to your fiance, who embraced you with every ounce of his own life. “Fuck, I was scared I lost you for a second. Are you okay baby?” His voice was hoarse as he ran out of breath from merely speaking. The choke of his emotions got the better of him as he sensationally savored the feeling of your bodies uniting.

He looks at you with relieved eyes. You tearfully nod and embraced him. The others did the same as they rejoined with their respective partners.

Slowly walking over to Helel, the eldest y/n comes within reach. She raises a hand and delicately moves pieces of his hair away from brow and eye. He smirks down at her, and takes her long strands in palm, rubbing them between his claws. Taking in every bit of her presence, he nearly loses himself at the face that took his breath away. Fuck, she was so breathtaking to him.

“Thank you…for saving me and the others.” She whispers out, widening her stare as she rests her hands on his chest. He wraps his arms around her waist.

“I don’t know what I would ever do if I didn’t have you.” He admits, and for the first time ever, she witnesses a side of the devil she never thought she’d see. His look was that of slight guilt, relief, and sadness. He looked down at the ground for a moment, realizing that had he been late, he would have lost the only thing that mattered to him. Meeting her gaze, he leans in with a calmed look in his eye.

In this very moment, y/n felt herself falling for her husband like never before. After bearing Helan, living in Hell, and sustaining his harsh treatments, she finally understood him as a man and husband. Oh, how the tables have turned in his favor.

“My son needs his mother…and I need my queen.” He whispers, before granting a small and tender kiss. Taking her hand, he raises it to chin level, tilting his face as his eyes remain glued to her face. Lavishing her hand, he rolls tongue and cheek across the smoothness of her skin, delicately placing a trail of kisses down to her wrist. Tears begin to form in her eyes. It’s true what they say in Heaven and Hell, the Devil truly loved his wife. His y/n.

A rumbling sound emerges from afar and you all witness as many more demons and angels emerge from inside the cathedral. They run over, crossing the bridge as they head in the groups direction. With the exception of Helel and his y/n, who had the gift of flight, everyone was at a disadvantage of being forced to run on foot, but with speed that was nothing compared to the inhuman entities making their way over.

“We gotta hide or something. They’ll catch us.” The purple haired y/n exclaims while her own Heeseung holds onto her, cooing her as he kisses her forehead.

“No need.” Helel calmly projects. Everyone looked in his direction with a relieved sigh, does he have a plan? “What will you do?” His own bride inquires flirtatiously as she gets a sense of a trick up her husband's sleeve. He smirks as he tells her. “What we do best.” He snaps his finger and instantly, six other figures appear from the sky, shattering the atmosphere as their sudden appearance creates a series of Sonic Booms. One right after another, they dive bombed the bridge, wiping out the army of demons and angels in seconds. With dark feathered wings, and inhuman strength, their lack in numbers could not fool anyone. The angels were no match even when conducting aerial movements. Each dark prince maneuvered the sky and shattered any who tried to escape. It was as if you were watching jets chasing after one another.

They swoon closer, joining the group at the end of the bridge. “The kids are misbehaving I see.” One of them spoke, a young man who had dark hair with wispy silver highlights. His foot reaches the ground as he collapses his wings, leaving them to remain perched in an arch at rest. He was adorned with gold and jewels that had to be worth more than what the world could offer. Joining him was one of the others, who had blonde hair slicked back, and bright blue eyes. A lip ring decorated his bottom lip, and he shared the same aura as the other.

“These little brats…what’s their problem this time? Are they pissed off at us or what?” Seemingly fed up with the offensive entities, he sighs out as the one adorned with jewels responds.

“Eh…Same shit, different day. Don’t know about the angels, but our guys are in need of a spanking…probably need to be grounded.”

The blonde haired angel-figure shoots a glance over to the forest haired y/n. “Huh…first time I’ve ever seen a Siren.”

The Heeseung who held on to her waist tucks her into his chest; he glares over to the blonde male. “Fuck off.” Was all he calmly stated before widening his eyes psychotically.

The blonde male smirks, appearing to do no harm. “Relax. I’m not going to take away your little mermaid.” He switched his gaze back to her. “You and I come from the same waters, Daughter of the Seven Seas. It would appear that your generation is much more tamed than that of your early mothers.” He smirks as he looks back at the one holding her. “An Adam…great distant son of an ancient God. Despite the identical face you display to that of my elder brother, you and I are more alike than anything else.”

Heedam softens his gaze to that of an annoyed glare. “I don’t really care, blondie.”

Jake smirks out a small laugh. “No, I guess you don’t. But it’s all good…” flickering his snake like tongue, he gently coos. “Just tell your sisters, should you ever see them, to be wary of the snake. I tend to look for them from time to time.”

The dark green haired y/n projects a perturbed brow. “You mean…the other sirens? What would you do if you ever found them?”

He winks. “I’d eat them—metaphorically speaking, of course.” He gives off a last smirk before turning his back to the couple. “Snakes need to eat too, you know?”

The two males take flight to rejoin their brothers in air, while Helel remains with you all. After some moments went by, you and the girls inquired on how the boys managed to find you.

“This guy.” One of the twins smirked as he thumb pointed over to Helel. “Got us together after he found out what was happening, and helped us get here before taking off to get his brothers.”

“How did you find out?” The eldest raised a brow as she peeked up to view her husband's face. He smirks as his chin touches her nose. “After the raid and your kidnapping, that little fuck-Molech left no leads. So I had to reach out to an old friend…”

“Who?” One of the y/n’s spoke curiously. The eldest y/n already knew…

“Him?” She spoke in a whisper. He slightly nods in return. You all pieced together whom they were referring to as the subtle hint gave off the showering expression of respect and peace on the Devil’s face.

God.

Not much was divided afterwards. In fact, after Helel explained how he forcefully opened the space and time continuums in each galactic dimension to retrieve the alternate versions of his own soul, and unite them with the plan to bring you all back, things went silent right after.

Reopening those entrances once more, Helel guided each pairing back to their own worlds, and everything was back to normal, other than the major publicity that stirred from the event. Mentions of angels and demons raising the sky, and an apocalyptic end, was all the media could speak of.

………

A few weeks have passed. Schools were shut down for a while due to the incident, and everyone was left to continue their education via online, which Heeseung absolutely loved. Having you in his dorm twenty-four-seven was something that he could get used to…maybe already has.

You lay in bed partially dressed. It was nice to not have to worry about figuring what to wear. Since assignments were assigned and completed on your own schedule, you opted to be lazy as Heeseung went down the store to grab your favorite snacks. All for being such a good girl, and staying by his side.

With only a crop top and a pair of panties on, you embraced the warmth of summer air hitting your skin. Besides, your man loved seeing you nearly nude more than anything else.

The door opens, and you see him walk in. In his traditional and fashionable manner, his hat covers his eyes and the upper bridge of his nose, which complimented the street style he wore. A long shirt with the sleeves partially rolled and straight jeans. So casual yet so appealing, or perhaps it was just him and how he could pull it off so well.

“That was quick.” You quirked as you sit up over the edge of the bedding and sipped on your water bottle.

“I don’t like being away from you for too long.” He spoke out with a deep tone. His bedroom voice.

He didn’t waste any time. He held onto your waist and pulls you up. Catching you by surprise, he dipped down to loop his hands around your thighs, before fully extending you up in the air. Your thighs straddle him as you stabilize yourself, he was so strong. Lifting you like a feather, he buries his face into your neck as your head rests on top of his hat. “Heeseung…”

“Mmhmm…” he mumbles with his mouth filled with your tender skin. He didn’t say much more after, instead, he hooks your panties and pushes them to the side. Up and over your derrière, his forearm rested against the surface of your rear cheeks while he lined himself to your center. It’s to be expected, you both didn’t have sex this morning due to the zoom conference for one of your classes. So of course, now that all of that was done, he could finally have his moment with you.

He slides right in, and it was a familiar feeling that seemed all too new. He stuffs you. Fills you. Pumps into you. It was an incredible feeling that reminded you just how much you loved to get fucked by this man.

His lips remained latched on to your neck. “Fuck.” He whispers. “Mmmph! Heeseung!” You gasped as he picks up the pace and bounces you atop his throbbing cock, holding your under-thighs as leverage whenever he lifted and stabilized your momentum.

He kept going on and on. Your mind was blown away as always; you didn’t even feel present in his room. Everything just took you away as you felt your gut being filled by that hard muscle. Separating your walls and pushing in, he thrusts in a motion that was passionately rough and sensually brutal. It was almost like dancing—it had rhythm and harmony as you both shared juices of love and lust.

You screamed out as you come undone. Splattering your fluids everywhere, he keeps his thrusts going as he goes in harder, faster, and deeper. Right as you reach your second orgasm, he joins in and you both cum in unison.

He gently places you back down on the bed, lovingly. Kissing your entire body, he coolly shushes you after noting your gasping pants for air, and the beads of sweat that coated your skin. “Shhh-sh-sh-sh. Breathe baby, that’s it…thaaaaaats it.”

Once you finally got your breathing stabilized, he kisses your forehead and whispers “good girl.”

Something smacks your senses as you immediately took note of the off-putting manner in the way he whispered his tone. Of course he’s said it many times before but this…this was all too familiar in an unfamiliar way. It was…it was…

He stands upright, you hear the unfolding flaps of the black feathered wings extending past the street attire he donned.

“Oh my God…”

He smirks. “Close…but not quite sweetheart.” With a devilish grin, he leans down and places a sudden peck on your lips, causing you to enhance your already shocked expression. “The Devil is here.”

He kisses you once more before turning away. A slit in the gravitational force of the air appears, and walking in was Heeseung dressed in formal black, Victorian wear. The one who donned his wings, Helel, spoke first.

“Had fun?”

Heeseung—your Heeseung, spoke back in jest. A certain level of verbal jousting that took place between the two as they remained swapped in their attire. “Hope you enjoy my work.” Your Heeseung spoke, flashing his Ethan persona as he smirks towards his devil counterpart.

“I’ll leave you my review. If I’m not satisfied, I will be returning.” He dashed a wink over to you, as your Heeseung responds back. “No returns.”

Helel crosses his arms, and grins. “I won’t be asking for a return, more like a freebie.”

Heeseung smirks back as he too, crosses his arms. Both men square off, chest to chest at a one arms distance. “Against my policy. It’s buy one, and get one free. And gimme back my hat.” He snags the cap off from Helel’s head, the latter merely remained undeterred and blinked as he leans his head slightly back, watching as his own counterpart places the hat on his own head.

“Hmph…what atrocity.” Noting his Victorian cloth tainted by the modern piece that your Heeseung displayed, Helel lightly snarled in disgust. “If anyone is going to square off with the Devil…I guess it would be my own damn self, even if you are worlds apart. Too bad I always win.”

He remarks amusingly before exiting, but not without waving back to you as he peeked over the edge of his wing. “See you later, y/n. Try not to spill.” He denotes as he points at the seeping fluid spilling out in between your legs. Heeseung’s brow irked at the symbolic jab.

“Helel…” he calls out right as the devil began to step into the opening.

Raising a brow, Helel looks over to his alternate face. “Say hi to the wife and kids for me.”

Helel’s eyes widen just slightly, expressing a hint of confusion. “Kids?”

Heeseung smirks. “Yeah…kids. A lot of them. Figured your boy could use some siblings.”

Both men stand wide-eyed, smiling sinisterly. They looked as if they were going to kill each other. “Huh…it would be you to show up the devil. I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He steps forward, and with that, the devil takes his leave.

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[seiya-starsniper]

I don't know if you're still doing the flower language prompts, but I wanted to send about twelve and narrowed it down to two lol.

So for Dreamling: Sunflower, dwarf ("How many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?") and/or Tarragon ("Here's all the reasons why you shouldn't like me")

🤘 five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes my beloved, so happy to hear from you!!! <3 I did my best to combine these two because they’re SUCH GOOD PROMPTS and they also fit the @monsterfucktoberbingo theme so well. Hope you enjoy!!!

Square: Cryptid

Flower Prompt Game!

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When Roderick Burgess unveils his circus’s latest spectacle, Hob is one of the only spectators who doesn’t gasp or recoil in abject horror at what he reveals.

“Behold! I have captured the omen of Death himself!” Roderick declares loudly. “Many have decried his existence, but here he stands before you!” he gestures to the chained being. “Look upon his horrid form. Does he not strike fear even in the bravest of men?”

Well, he certainly struck something in Hob, but he wasn’t sure that the feeling was fear.

The creature on display was absolutely stunning, if Hob were honest, but he can understand why his appearance would seem a horror at first. The thing certainly wore the basic shape of a man, with pale white skin that seemed to glow under the harsh din of the spotlight, and messy black hair that fell down to his shoulders. But where his feet would be, there were instead large, golden talons with long obsidian nails that dug deep into the dirt below them as the creature struggled to keep his balance.

And his hands. They were barely hands at all, with only four fingers on each, and white nails so long they were practically claws. The skin too, from finger to elbow was ashen black as if burnt, but when Hob looked closer, he could see the skin there shimmered like the rest of him in the light. 

The most significant part of the creature, though, was his wings. They were what Hob expected an angel’s wings to appear like, large and spanning the length of his body. Except, instead of white, these wings were pitch black, with the very tips of them colored a deep red, as if dipped in blood during war. Hob so badly wanted to see the full wingspan of the creature, certain that it would outdo even an albatross, but, understandably, Burgess had completely bound the creature’s wings in both rope and chains in a measure to keep him from escaping.

Burgess cracks his whip near the creature’s feet and he snarls at the crowd, who jeer and yell in response. Burgess cracks the whip twice more but the creature has gone silent, glaring defiantly now at all its unwanted audience. 

When its eyes land on the area Hob is seated in, he swears it is his eyes the creature locks his gaze onto. And oh, even from as high up as he is, Hob can feel the ice forming in those cold blue eyes. It pierces through him like a hot knife through butter, and Hob finds himself willingly drawn in, wanting to move closer, wanting to reach out and touch this magnificent being—

The lights cut out shortly after, ending the show for the night. Hob goes to bed that night and dreams of the creature on the stage, dreams of talons and feathers, and drowning in an ice cold lake the color of the being’s eyes. 

When he wakes in the morning, Hob is resolute. A creature as magnificent as that does not belong in chains. He sets fire to Burgess’s circus arena later that night, and he and the creature (Dream, he called himself) steal away into the night.

—-

“Why are you helping me?” Dream asks him one afternoon after they’ve been on the run for three days.

“Would you rather I left you to rot in Burgess’s circus?” Hob shoots back as he’s skinning the stag Dream hunted and caught them for dinner.

“You had a life in that village, did you not?” Dream says, refusing to let go of the subject and stomping his talons into the forest floor. “Why throw it away for something like me?”

Hob shrugs. “I’m a widower with a dead son,” he replies. “Not much of a life by anyone’s definition. Besides,” he adds, “You looked like you needed saving.”

“So it’s pity then?” Dream snarls, unfurling his wings to their full length. They brush against the nearby trees and the sheer strength of their muscles snap a few branches clean off. Hob realizes he had been right about Dream’s wingspan. It was wider than that of an albatross, and they were absolutely gorgeous. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Hob says before he can stop himself.

Dream stumbles back and retracts his wings, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. 

“You don’t mean that,” Dream says, looking anywhere but at Hob. He’s got a furiously red blush that starts at his cheeks and seems to crawl all the way down to his chest. It makes him look even lovelier.

Hob smiles despite himself. “Maybe that’s why I saved you,” he chuckles. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

“Then you are an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Dream replies, before he stomps off. 

—-----------

On a particularly cold night, Hob wakes to find himself covered by one of Dream’s wings.

“This means nothing,” Dream mutters, even as he presses his chest to Hob’s back. 

Hob can’t help but grin like a fool. He reaches out to run a finger along the bend of the wing that’s currently serving as his blanket, and delights when he feels Dream shudder behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me, you big softie,” Hob chuckles before he falls back asleep, feeling more content than he has in years.

—------------

They’ve been on the run for almost a year before Burgess and his men manage to catch up to them. They’re cornered at the bottom of a valley, and Hob knows if they can make it to the river and cross it, they’ll be all right. Burgess’s men are all on horses that wouldn’t dare cross the rushing waters. 

They’re almost to the clearing when Dream stops suddenly and says, “Leave me.”

“What?! No, I’m not leaving you!” Hob exclaims. “Come on, we’re almost at the river—”

“Burgess’s horses will cross the river,” Dream replies. “He’s desperate to get me back, alive or dead. And you are tired.”

“I’m fine,” Hob insists. 

“You’re not!” Dream argues. “You’re practically limping and you—you have done more than enough for me. If I leave you now and fly north, they’ll stop following you and come after me instead.”

“Sorry sweetheart, you’re stuck with me,” Hob replies, pulling out his sword and getting ready to fight as he hears Burgess’s men grow closer. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Dream yells. “Roderick Burgess had been hunting me long before we met, and he will continue to do so until one of us is dead. You cannot possibly want to be on the run forever.”

“And if I do?” Hob asks. ���Dream—how many ways do I have to tell you I want this—want you—before you’ll believe me?”

Dream hisses, and before Hob can say anything else, he finds himself lifted high into the air as Dream takes off with the both of them, rushing at full speed towards the river. His long white claws dig into Hob’s skin and Hob holds on for dear life as he buries his face into Dream’s neck to avoid the whiplash of the wind.

When they finally land, Hob can no longer hear the neighing of the horses, or the yell of Burgess’s men. Dream practically drops him to the ground, and Hob realizes the other had used the last of his strength to get them to safety. Before he can collapse, Hob catches him, and after a quick look around, manages to find a small cave that they can use for shelter for the night. 

“That was bloody brilliant, love,” Hob sighs happily once they’re inside and lying side to side. “Think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Dream mumbles. “Love me, at all. I have caused you nothing but harm, and you will always be on the run so long as you stay with me. I cannot give you any of the comforts of a human life, not money, status, or a family.”

“I know,” Hob replies gently, taking Dream's dark hands in his. “I’m not asking you to. I told you before, all I want is you. You can give me all the reasons you want about why I shouldn’t, but I’ll still choosing you.”

“Idiot,” Dream says, but his tone is fond. He then wraps a wing around Hob and scoots closer, so their bodies are flush against each other. “Though I suppose you are my idiot.”

Hob smiles and presses his lips to Dream’s. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

[tonkatsubowl]

false love. vi

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part five. ꕤ part seven.

ꕤ requested tag: @20forty9

in terms of time, it had been months since you were officially married...almost a year had passed, and almost weeks had occurred since your attempted kidnapping.

but the truth was still hidden from you.

however, unbeknownst to you, your father had been arrested a long time ago, but the knowledge that you had in regards to this? nothing.

it was getting colder, and the season of autumn had already greeted you with a loving embrace. summer was already hot enough as it was, so you were enjoying the autumn breeze that welcomed you with lovingness.

you sat outside, leaning against mimi and watched the view of the sunset of xianzhou luofu as you held a warm cup of jasmine tea in both of your hands. mimi's warmth combined with the coziness of the tea brought you joy, especially in your life as this very moment. it took time, but you came to realize what peace truly meant, and what happiness was.

but you still weren't healed.

you still flinched when someone rose their hand, when someone barely raises their voice at you, but that didn't stop you from realizing your potential future to great joy.

...and it didn't stop you from actually falling for jing yuan. you came to realize how much...you loved him, and how much you were grateful that his marriage had occurred. but you didn't have the heart to tell jing yuan 'i love you', yet.

after all, you believed that he didn't love you, and only married you for business related things.

"y/n."

you hear jing yuan's voice call out to you from a random direction, your heart beginning to flutter as your gaze casted towards the general. your eyes lit up, practically sparkling from joy. you wanted to go and embrace him, but mimi was already possessive of you. she lifted her paw, laying it over your chest as she yawned, giving jing yuan a rather concerning look...

jing yuan chuckled as he approached you and his beloved fluffy comrade, reaching out to rub mimi on the head. "there you are, y/n. i was looking all over for you." he said in a quiet voice, sitting down next to you.

there was a warm smile across your face, watching as jing yuan approached the two of you. "jing yuan...hello."

there was his gentle smile, but his eyes softened. "...there's something i want to tell you."

you blink, innocently peering over to him, your head tilted to the side. you were silent, allowing him to speak...

...but the man stared at you for a brief moment before chuckling, shaking his head. "...actually, never mind. it's getting late. shall i bring you to your room?"

...right. although the two of you were married for a long time, the two of you haven't slept in the same bed at all due to your discomfort of sharing a bed with someone you barely knew. but this time, from the time you spent here, you began to realize how much you can trust jing yuan. he had saved you, fed you, gave you a home with a roof over your head, and he has protected you. you can definitely trust him. your heart didn't tell you otherwise.

"...a-actually," you looked down, pink dusting your cheek as you placed your cup of tea on the small low-table nearby. you felt mimi huff, as though she predicted what you were going to say, "...may...may i sleep next to you tonight? i..." your hands came together, timidly avoiding eye contact with your husband, "...i, uh. i just...feel safer with you, that way. i-i mean, look. if it isn't a big issue...actually, uh, let me rephrase that. n-never mind what i said, i don't want to bother y⸻"

"⸻yes." jing yuan stops you, his smile widening.

you flare up, your eyes casting back towards the male as you fell silent. you wanted to pass out right then and there, but you were joyous to his response to your question.

"why would i not allow you?" jing yuan tilted his head as he extended a hand towards you, "you are my wife, are you not? you have a rightful place by my side."

you were silent for a moment before you took his hand, raising yourself up. you hear mimi grumble, laying her chin upon her paws as she went back to her nap.

"..r..right." you murmur. "it's..it's getting late. the sun is already gone and the moon is up..."

jing yuan nodded. "yes, y/n. let us depart."

when you enter jing yuan's room, it was like seeing the most wealthiest master bedroom you ever laid your eyes upon. everything was neat and clean, it was all completely organized...but some of his furniture seemed untouched. his bookshelf nearby seemed rather dusted, but the only thing that seemed truly active was the table that resided within the room. upon it were maps, little figurines to indicate enemies...it was a place to discuss your strategics, but it seems like he did this alone before conducting his plan with his allies.

you wander around as your house servants enter with the clothes you wore, placing them in a separate area in jing yuan's....well, your room now. you gently sat upon the bed that seemed bigger than a king size mattress, and you felt your rear sink into the soft cushion of the bed. you lay back, your eyes peeled towards the ceiling as you admired everything in silence.

the memory foam of the bed was enough to try to make you fall asleep here and then, but you didn't. jing yuan was here, and the moment the house servants left, you sat up.

"your room is...beautiful." you say, admiring everything, still.

"ahaha. is it?" he questioned in the background.

"yes!"

you could hear the shuffling of his armor and his clothing being moved around, and your eyes curiously peeked over...only to see him don himself in a more comfortable clothing. a silk robe, and only his chest was visible.

you were respectfully looking at his chest, but you immediately looked away when he saw you staring at him for a moment. you were red, and he enjoyed witnessing your naivete. so, he chuckled moving alongside next to you, getting ready for bed on his end.

"well, goodnight, y/n." jing yuan said as he moved under his comforter, turning his back to you as he began to sleep. you nodded slowly, responding with a quiet, "g-goodnight, jing yuan," before doing the same.

both of your backs were turned, facing each other. you tried to close your eyes...but you were too nervous...and too, well, awake? the tea had certainly caused you to feel some sort of exhaustion as well as cuddling with mimi. but you definitely were awake this time, for whatever reason. your heart was racing, and it was most likely because you were sharing the bed of a general...now.

well, this was your life from now on, and you were realizing it.

a few moments later, you turn your head, and jing yuan hadn't turned at all. you assumed he had fallen asleep, given he was silent for about thirty minutes straight... ...but you looked at his back, and admired those broad shoulders of his. the silk robe he wore exposed a bit of his neck, and due to gravity's gift, you could see a bit of his back too. you could see the scars, and you knew each one told a story.

"...jing yuan?" you whispered.

no response. the man was asleep.

you shuffle closer, taking a closer look at his back... your hands reach out to him slowly, the pad of your thumb tracing across the scar. it was soft and almost rigid, as though it were recently fresh. there was a worried look upon your face as you shuffle even closer...

"...you've...been through a lot, haven't you?" you whisper. "...i'm sorry. now i feel terrible."

slowly, you shuffle even closer to the general, moving your arms towards his waist. you embrace him from behind, your face buried into his back.

...

...

that was when you felt his arms curl around you, pulling you close to his chest. you blink, suddenly finding yourself against the man's figure as you were pulled closer to him. he held you close, and you were caught red handed.

"ah⸻"

jing yuan buried his nose into your hair, silent for a moment. "why do you feel terrible?"

he asked in a low voice, stroking your back.

you fell silent again, inhaling his scent and embracing the softness of his exposed chest, "...because i'm probably...a lot for you to handle. you've been through so much, i bet, and now you have to deal with me."

you hear jing yuan chuckle softly to himself, stroking your hair now, "goodness. your anxiety is troubling isn't it?"

you blink, looking up.

his golden eyes are softly illuminate within the darkness that the two of you were sharing, but you couldn't look away.

"...i..." you were at loss for words. the man who held you at this very moment was...beautiful. too beautiful.

"..." jing yuan was silent, mirroring your actions. he had looked at you, admiring the beauty that laid before him. he almost felt bad for you, as you were forced into this marriage and took you forever to practically trust him. you had thought you felt awful? goodness, no, jing yuan was the one with anxiety here. but he was awfully good at hiding it.

the two of you were silent for a bit.

"...jing yuan..." you murmur. you raise your head, your eyes fixated to his lips.

jing yuan lowered his head, inclining his finger under your chin, lifting your gaze.

your lips were slowly met with his⸻and you immediately adored the softness of his brims that brushed against yours. when the two of you retracted your heads away, jing yuan sputtered, showing a rare side of embarrassment.

"...i-i. ahem. i apologize. i shouldn't have done that without your permission⸻"

you silence him with another, reeling him towards you as you tugged on his silk robe, pulling him in for another kiss. this time, it was fiery, passionate. hungry. you breathe heavily, feeling his hands run towards your waist, pulling you in closer.

you retract your head for air, red to the face. "j-jing yuan, um... i'm sorry. i... this is my first time doing this. k-kissing and all." you murmur.

jing yuan shook his head. kindness shown in his eyes, keeping you close to his chest.

"i won't rush into anything without your permission." he reassured you. "as long as you are comfortable. then i am happy."

you breathed, tugging at a piece of your clothing.

jing yuan blinked, noticing the gesture. he was more experienced, and...seeing that you were a virgin, he had to be extra gentle with you.

"...if you are sure, y/n. i am not opposed to it, but," he whispered, beginning to slip your robe down your shoulders as he now laid on top of you, looking down upon you.

"...please tell me if it starts to hurt you."

[hourglassfish]

On Season 1, Episode 7 Part Three : Risottogate

OK look,

Go and get yourself an ecto cooler or something, cus this is long, OK? This is long.

You comfortable?

Alright, let’s go.

don't forget the Xanax!

Elevated Beef (stock)

There’s a connection drawn between Sydney and veal stock in the Bear. She spills it all over herself during Brigade. Claire interrupts Carmy purchasing veal stock for menu testing her bone broth idea at the end of 2:2.  It’s an interesting ingredient to align her with: a staple of French cuisine, something you’ll find in a professional high end kitchen but not necessarily at home, a distinctive, practical component which provides a subtle, solid umami base for a range of dishes.

The first time this connection is drawn is during one of my favourite interactions: the ‘plum haribo’ story in Brigade. Marcus has decorated his work station (I love him), and despite the fact that Carmy says he’s having flashbacks (eeeeeeek), I think he is happy to see this coming together of his two worlds.

They start talking about this fancy plum dish, and a gelee component (which will reappear in Honeydew!) that had to have a very specific texture. Carmy has been talking about the dedication needed to make this dish work with pride, presenting the texture of the gelee as a huge challenge, something it took someone a year to figure out. Sydney cracks it in less than a minute. Veal fat. She knows what’s needed, and she knows why: it congeals when it’s cold. Boom!

Carmy’s response to this always amuses me. He is not…dismayed exactly. Not quite. After all, it’s a reminder of her brilliance, and also that that world is not so far away.  That being said, she cuts across a punchline here; and what was a mystery to the best chefs in the world for a year is immediately obvious to her, to the extent that it’s not even really a flex on her part: she states it quite diffidently. Marcus’s gleeful ‘Mission Accomplished’ is very different from Carmy’s, which is a bit more ‘…oh.’.

On rewatches where I feel charitable, Carmy then implements the brigade cus he's been reminded that he has someone close by from that world, he has an ally that speaks his language, who is talented. On days when I feel less charitable, I combine this with him later talking her through the differences between stock/jus/demi-glace in front of Tina  like an asshole, and see him handing the brigade over at that specific moment, in the specific way that he does as passive aggressive. Most days I’m with the former! Still…we’re back in the grey areas of Syd and Carmy’s  dynamic. Where all the good shit is!

He's so glad she figured that out so quickly, absolutely not feeling a type of way about it, nope, not at all

I wanted to start with this story cus it opens up three things for me:

a) just a frisson, a hint, a delicious drop (!) of competition between Syd and Carmy 

b) the question, beloved by fanfic writers everywhere, of what the dynamic between these two might have been if they had met in a different context.

c) a third, messier thing, about Carmy going away, tooling up, coming back and it needing to be worth something, that going way. As far as he knows at this point, It didn’t achieve what it was meant to achieve, it didn’t get Mikey’s attention. Maybe he didn’t need to leave Chicago to do it. Sydney's talent tickles that tension, as does Marcus's (trios, trios!). So what was it for? What were the past few years of his life for, if a bunch of this stuff was in Chicago all along?

Who was Carmy away from Chicago? Who is he without his family? We’ve only seen one flashback so far, very much from inside Carmy’s head. The way he tells it is very different from what we see. At Al Anon, he describes himself like this:

‘when somebody new came into the restaurant to stage, I’d look at them like they were competition, like I’m gonna smoke this motherfucker’.

But you're tall and sexy, so don't worry about it babes

Gosh. Yes Chef!

I don’t think Carmy holds anything like this level of aggression towards any of the original staff of the Beef: it would be absurd: they don’t have his training or experience. For the most part we see doing the work of pulling a team together, which explicitly involves putting that kind of competitiveness to the side.

I don’t think he has this energy for Sydney.

Not quite.

I do think it’s an important thing for us to learn about his character. I do think that we are told it at the beginning of Episode 8, after Sydney has quit, because there are ugly feelings around the risotto dish. I do think that those feelings drive a lot of how Review goes down, and that Carmy knows this.  

This ferocious comparison and competition, used as a driving force, is a part of who Carmy is, and a part of the kitchens that he has come from. In another context, Sydney would have just been competition. And he’d have been trying to smoke her.

Let’s follow a humble bowl of risotto through THREE EPISODES, and about 5000 words, good GOD.

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto: Unanticipated

I tried to find appetising pics of her cooking the risotto but mostly it doesn't look very aesthetic, so here is Syd in my fave of her scarves.

A Risotto, playing on ‘tongue in cheek’ is first tentatively pitched in Sheridan, as an idea for a new menu that they have ‘spoken about’. Carmy is… noncommittal. He’s not into it, but he doesn’t say that, he just doesn’t really engage. I think there are a bunch of valid reasons to not be into it, tbh. I’ve ordered risotto to go. It’s always kind of gluey and disappointing. Sydney isn’t given a clear no, so she decides to cook it: it becomes something she has to convince him on.

He doesn’t get to try it in this episode as there are drugs to sell and about a million different fires to fight. We know that she dreams about this dish though. In this episode she talks about how thinking about her mistakes with Sheridan Road keep her up at night,  but the last images of the episode are of her dreaming: beef… raspberries… cola… fire: there it is. Cola braised short rib. We’re back in the realm of deeply personal creative expression that I spoke about in part two. That anxious energy around failing with Sheridan Road? Is going somewhere else, is being transformed. This is important, and has the potential to be profoundly healing. This dish has meaning for her.

The dish returns in Ceres. Syd is an unstoppable force with the dish, and having said she wants to be listened to, is not listening to several requests from Carmy for more time. Stressful! He deals with it well, at first. He is calm, and polite and asks her to hold on. Which is not a no. But then -

 ‘I know everybody you used to work for, I called them before hiring you’

oooooh weeee.

There is nothing wrong with him seeking out references. His reasons are logical, and he’s transparent about them. Personally? I think it’s sensible to let employees know you’re seeking out references to avoid paranoia, but it’s not a legal requirement. People do it informally via whisper networks all the time, both purposefully and by accident. Gotta say though, the phrasing and the timing of this ‘reveal’ made me wince.

There are a million different theories of feedback, of how to give and receive it well. One argues that feedback must be asked for, accurate and measurable. If it’s not measurable, then you are nitpicking. If it’s not accurate, you’re hating. If it’s not asked for, or at least delivered in an environment where it’s anticipated, it is unlikely to be received well. Carmy, unfortunately, delivers a whopper of unanticipated feedback here: ‘me and all your old bosses (I know EVERYONE YOU USED TO WORK WITH)have been talking about you and they all agree on this flaw’.

YIKES

Would I let Syd stab me for a bowl of this? Maaaaybe. Maybe.

My reading is that he wanted to ask for her patience, and to say that his decision to pace out the changes is coming from experience, but he’s being backed into a corner, so he summons up the spectre of her old bosses for back up. Syd had opened up last episode, and is still very vulnerable about Sheridan, so he unintentionally wounds her here. We can read this in her response. He says her employers said she was smart, talented,  green and impatient, she hears ‘me and everyone you’ve worked for think your business failed because you were green and impatient, that’s why you’re here, and why this dish can’t go on the menu’. This dish is getting entangled in so many other things about where they’ve come from.

He does take the time to reframe it: outlines his practical concerns, and starts to articulate that he wants to maintain calm before they make more changes - 

And then Sugar is banging on the door, demonstrating his point.

At this point, Carmy is trying to build a parachute. They don’t have one when Jimmy comes to visit in Hands, but they do have one that becomes Richie’s bail by Braciole. Reserve building takes steady, dull consistency, but this isn’t communicated, and they don’t agree on a timeframe for the menu development, or even to come back to this conversation. This is small stuff, I know I sound nitpicky! But in my experience managing people, tension builds in the unknowns, in the places where there aren’t specifics, especially when you have a team member like Sydney who is ambitious and dynamic.

Sydney is firmly in the realm of the job that Carmy specified here. He is dialling business, she is doing everything else. If you’re a nerd and you zoom in on her CV, she has done menu development before. She is green, but not that green. She is impatient, but she also doesn’t have the same complicated relationship with change at the Beef that pretty much everyone else but Marcus does. The risotto is the first unofficial test of the impact of strain on their (messy ass) working dynamic, to Review’s much more official gauntlet.

Why would they write a proper CV and film it if they didn't want me to spend 5 minutes hitting pause repeatedly until I'd read it?

*squints* designed daily specials with complete creative control! At Alinea! A THREE STAR MICHELIN RESTAURANT! At the time they wrote this, it had held and retained those stars for twelve years! She is not new to this!

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto Two: Unmeasurable

They try again with the risotto later. She is a little more patient, initially. She makes the effort and he thanks her for it. He tries it, which she really wanted (surely that will convince him!), and she has modified her request, from to-gos, to trying it as a special. Her equivalent of baby steps. She listened. She’s trying. Lovely Angel and my main man Ebra come by, taste and support Carmy’s ‘tremendous’.

But here Carmy gives feedback that isn’t measurable. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t say why, even though he knows, and it’s an easy fix! He’s nitpicking, because he doesn’t, for a bunch of practical reasons, want to put risotto on the menu, but doesn’t want to shoot her down. He asks her if she understands after she has explicitly said that she doesn’t (cus he’s not being up front), and then doesn‘t explain himself. He’s not really asking if she understands, he’s telling her to stop. It’s not really the dish that’s not ready, not really, it’s him, he’s not ready to make a new raft of changes, to think through the gap between the Michelin star excellence he has come from, and the budgetary, practical restrains of where he’s at.

I think this is really fair. Or at least understandable. Carmy just wants to catch a breath, and he has to have oversight on so many different things at once, adding something else to that must feel terrifying. But the way he communicates this shuts down and restricts: he switches the dynamic from one where they listen to each other (which requires that they both explain themselves) to one where he tells and she does. It doesn’t really give her anywhere to go, so her frustration is inevitable and also understandable. Measurable feedback! Clarity. If you don’t want risotto on the menu Carmy, rip the band-aid, and say it, and say why. Get her to work on something that is going to fit with the menu in a different way, in the way that you want, and be clear about the way in which you want to shape it!

He knows he’s not been great here. Carmy apologises for ‘being shitty’ later in the episode (as others have noted, it’s a shit apology) and he also starts his apology with ‘needs acid’ in 1:8. He knows that a lot of Review is to do with this dish.

When Carmy apologises about being shitty later in Ceres, she doesn’t mention that she put the dish out earlier. It’s framed as a little moment of.. if not revenge, then a little something for herself. I think she knows it’s not OK, not really, or she’d have mentioned it, and her face says a lot when she says it’s cool.  I’m not a chef, I only ever worked FOH, but my instinct is that its dodgy and it fills me with unease. A grey area. A pop of tension.

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto Three: Hating

Whenever I think about the strikes, I think about the broader ensemble in this show.

The next time the risotto turns up, it’s being mentioned in a review. A lot happens here, so I’m gonna bullet point out all the references, then analyse some of them afterwards. I’m also gonna jump a whole bunch, cus I want to stay tightly focused on the risotto itself, and the dynamic between Syd and Carmy as relates to it:

Ebra reads the review out!

Syd has a lovely, gentle smile for Ebra as he reads it, her whole body relaxes as she taps at the tablet. This validation clearly means a lot to her. Ebra’s dynamic with both Sydney and Marcus is consistently a joy to behold. When he tells her in Dogs that she’s given Marcus a lot of confidence, she glows, and I think it’s something she really needed to hear. He’s subtle about it, but he never makes her life difficult when she implements the brigade. There’s something about the oldest member of the team, reading the review out, a little haltingly cus English isn’t his first language, that doubles down on the love that can be present in the Beef, making it all the more jarring when –

Carmy cuts across this and starts talking about the day’s opening with a ‘stop reading that shit’

Fam ‘that shit’ just described your food as elevated and elegant! In the foodie heaven that is Chicago! In your restaurant which is kind of failing! It’s your team’s first review since you’ve been there! So straight away you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, because what has got his knickers in a twist?

Carmy is justified in being pissed off about Syd’s actions here. What he is not justified in, is not finding a way to celebrate the review itself with his team, who deserve to have this moment. It’s a milestone for them to get some external validation, and the restaurant, quite frankly, needs it. A five star review! Tina squeals with delight when she hears it. Before a new program and a busy shift is the perfect moment to read this out, and go into the work feeling good. A united, gassed up team? Would have killed those to gos.

Sydney is also responsible for this messiness though. In going rogue the episode before, something which could have been about the team becomes about her in a way that is sticky, and it becomes harder to celebrate. It was not her intention, but this is the outcome.

Ebra ignores Carmy

(cus he’s redundant and white JK JK don’t cancel me)

There is a double edged shout out to the team

‘the staff moves are next level’: this is such brilliant, important feedback from a team that has had to weather so much change! Also calls back to Richie:  ‘Uh oh, Sydney making moves!’ in the car in Hands.

‘The sandwiches are so delicious as ever, but the standout dish that... that, that encapsulates all, this was the risotto with braised beef. The rice was luscious with a surprising ribbon of brine running through the sauce. The chef obviously knew what she was doing’

THAT REVIEWER IS A SNITCH

Did Syd know that reviewer was a reviewer? I dunno man. Maybe! She’s Chicago born and bred, knows the food scene well. It’s not outside of the realm of possibility that she’d recognise him. Maybe she just wanted some good immediate feedback, while she was feeling shitty! Maybe all she wanted was him to send a message back to the kitchen that’s like tell Syd the risotto was great: the impact of his Review but on a much smaller, less disruptive scale.

I think it’s genuine coincidence, which unfortunately looks… not like that. The thing is: the reviewer being a reviewer isn’t what the issue is. The issue is giving food not signed off by her boss to a customer.  She'd have never gotten away with that at the places where she was before. Putting the dish out is going rogue, regardless of who she gives it to. It’s not a team move. If Carmy called in her old bosses for back up, she calls in his potential new customers. Eek. EEK.

Sydney desperately tries to get Ebra to shush, to no avail

(extremely funny work from Ayo, but also he’s pissed, and she either already knows it, or already antipates it – it’s hard to get a read on how long they’ve been in and when they learnt about the review)

‘river of brine, huh?’ 

Carmy, you little snark!!! This is very much his wheelhouse of expressing displeasure, he loves a little jab to the emotional solar plexus. My reading of his line is that what the reviewer tried and what Carmy tried are different, because if it had a ribbon of brine in it, I think that means that there was enough acid. Syd has two dishes, and she’s specific about Carmy trying one and not the other, so my reading here is that Carmy’s POV is not only did a dish go out of my kitchen without my sign off, but it was different from the dish I was given to try. Wince. Wince, wince, wince.

Sydney and Carmy have a fucking excruciating conversation.

Just the worst.

Carmy is not happy, but feels unable to voice this in a way that seems reasonable: he’s busy and stressed about to-gos, he hasn’t moved past the unreasonable feelings of resentment and annoyance to the clarity which enables you to articulate how you feel and why, and because Syd’s gamble paid off! It’s a net positive for the restaurant so it feels counterintuitive to reprimand her, but there is a conversation they need to have. He really does not want to have this conflict, because it’s complicated, and is, like most big blow outs over something small, about so much more than a plate of risotto.  He breezes over the conversation, but you can’t start with that ribbon of brine opener and then tell me shit’s not weird.

Compare this to Brigade, when Sydney is asked what’s up, and she is brave enough and vulnerable enough to be like – here are the things that weren’t OK, here are my expectations, here are my boundaries.

On the other side of the conversation, Sydney knows that she has slipped across a slightly odd boundary, but doesn’t acknowledge this. It’s good he liked it! All’s well that ends well. Right? RIGHT? But if he hadn’t? Very different conversation. It doesn’t matter who he is! He could have been anyone - someone that left a weird Instagram comment later, or someone who didn’t finish the meal and complained. Whatever the case may be, giving it to him unofficially was not an act of partnership, or listening, even if the initial communication was shitty.

She knows she’s overstepped,  but she doesn’t apologise and doesn’t acknowledge the specifics of what she’s done wrong, because she does not want to have the conflict that could come out of this either. She seeks affirmations that they are OK rather than trying to actually find out how Carmy feels and why, because at this point she doesn’t really want to hear it. She is seeking this conversation out 20 minutes before open! It’s not the time for a thorny, complex discussion.  

Compare this to Brigade. Carmy knows Sydney is pissed, and makes the effort to speak to her, in private, armed with the peace offering of Ebra’s Suqaar. He is very careful in that conversation to ask open questions (‘what’s going on with you? Say more?’) that enable her to respond honestly. He persists despite her having her walls up around the fact that she’s pissed. Sydney does not do this. The power dynamic makes it hard, but still. If she wants the connection needed to power reconciliation, that bravery needs to be in play.

are you sure we can't just power through this with sexual tension?

Sweeps congratulates her and tells her she’ll have to tell her dad

Hope Mr Adamu got a newspaper clipping!

Carmy says the sandwiches are totally different and the reviewer is a fucking hack. Syd looks sad.

This moment is why I opened this essay talking about veal stock. We are back in a moment with a gap between what has been said, and what has been heard. The reviewer said the sandwiches were delicious as ever. That’s not a criticism at all! These are not words that justify being called a hack! Carmy is pissed because the reviewer says they are delicious and they always have been, that Carmy has not improved on the staple that was there before him.

And that shit hurts his ego!

His whole thing was going off to learn ‘how to be better than mom and dad’s piece of shit’. We know he’s changed a bunch of things about the sandwiches. In Hands,  Sydney mentions that they’ve switched to market produce, which I’m sure is not unrelated to Richie’s ‘You’ve been here for two weeks and we’ve had money problems for two weeks’ in System. In Carmy’s time there, the bread’s changed, the method for cooking the beef has changed, the way they braise onions has changed.

To that customer? Delicious as ever.It’s not a dismissal, or an insult.  It is a reminder that Carmy didn’t have to leave, and go through all he went through, that there was delicious food and skills to be learned and refined without it. We know Michael was a talented chef. Even now, with all of where he’s been, Carmy cannot surpass him or his memory.

The person that does surpass that? Is Sydney. With food his palate did not deem good enough! Sydney who has not had to leave Chicago and her family. Sydney who has found a way to be creatively free, even at The Beef, in ways that Carmy has not really been able to, because his primary concern has to be money. There is understandable resentment here. But there is competition to the way Carmy cooks, something to prove, someone to smoke. There are reasonable feelings here, but some of them are really ugly, too.

Tina describes Syd as Jeff’s friend

This is a strange little line – because we know that Tina respects Syd as a chef at this point, and she doubles down on it later when she asks Syd to teach Louis skills, like she herself has been taught. So why’s it there? My feeling is that it’s there to remind the audience of what Syd and Carmy’s relationship is usually like. I wouldn’t call it friendship, I think they operate in a weird place that defies labels, but they have this synergy which drives the business. Tina evoking that in this moment draws attention to the fact that they are not in that space right now.

He's just got a very sweet face, it's hard for me to believe he's in trouble at school

Richie has a loud, performative conversation with Carmy about many things, but for the purpose of this section, he states that they don’t do risotto, asks if they’re going to, and Carmy definitively states that ‘no, they’re not going to do that’ he also repeats Syd’s phrasing that it was ‘an accident’

She stabbed the wrong ass if you ask me!

Nah, but for real, this is nasty work. I’m gonna come back to it in the next (penultimate!) bit of writing about the Beef, the Bear, Richie & Michael, Syd & Carmy. For now, I will simply say that Carmy is doing up major pass agg here, and it’s nasty to watch. He’s really, really unhappy with her,  and he’s struggling to hold it in, so it’s coming out in unhelpful and unpleasant ways that feel like humiliations in front of the whole team, and punishment.

There are really valid reasons for Carmy to be annoyed and to not want to talk about it right now.  The problem is that If you don’t create a pressure valve you take responsibility for, you will end up a) exploding instead (lol) and/or b) releasing that frustration in unhelpful and harmful ways.

They move towards this with their ASL sorry in Season Two. But here, Carmy says and implies a bunch of things to Richie that he needed to say explicitly to Syd two episodes ago, and two minutes ago: that he has no intention of putting risotto on the menu, and that he thinks her saying it was an accident was bullshit. He wants Syd to know it’s not OK without the hard, painful work of having to engage in conflict with her. It’s shitty.

Sweet Louis asks what a ribbon of brine is

He seems like a good boy, bring him back!

A BUNCH OF STUFF THAT I WILL WRITE ABOUT NEXT TIME HAPPENS

Richie, Syd and Carmy, it’s delicious (a nightmare).

Syd attempts a second conversation with Carmy – having vented some frustration  at Richie, and seeing how her workload is piling up and becoming untenable, she is much more open here. Carmy is not.

She’s blunt – we’re not on the same page. Carmy lies and deflects – we’re good, let’s get through the shift. He has his hands on his hips, with as much of his body turned away from her as possible, during this conversation, and walks off half way through it. Even if everything had gone right, this shift would have been a nightmare for Syd.

Everything is awesome!

The penultimate mention of the risotto is here. There is very little I can say that has not been brilliantly said by eatandsleepwell here - https://www.tumblr.com/hourglassfish/726487509540962304/eatandsleepwell-melonatures-this-one-second?source=share so I’m gonna link it.

That’s the last we hear of risotto for now, other than a quick reference to Syd as an arrogant and condescending ribbon of brine from Richie later. It doesn’t turn up on the tasting menu at the Bear, where it defo feels like a riff on risotto could have replaced one of their pasta dishes. That switch from rice to pasta feels pointed.

Spaghetti

Let’s treat The Beef as a character. If Sydney’s ingredient motif is veal stock, then The Beef’s is that family spaghetti.

Cheap and simple. Fucking delicious. Makes no sense and shouldn’t work, but was somehow the best seller on the menu. Distinctively Italian. Stuffed full of drug money(!). Always, always presented at the table with love, like a gift. You can elevate it if you want, but the fact of the matter is that even at its very best, it’s only gonna hit so hard cus it reminds you of simpler times, like the ratatouille (that is not a ratatouille!) from the movie Ratatouille.

Carmy rejects that meal at the top of the series. It ‘doesn’t make sense on the menu’, so he doesn’t care that people loved it. So far, so EMP. When he starts to cook it in episode one, it feels like a relenting to Richie’s bullying, and him throwing WHAT WE NOW KNOW WAS PROBABLY A FEW THOUSAND DOLLARS in the bin at the end of the episode feels like this exhilarating rejection of mediocrity. They change the lines for System, but in the pilot, Carmy literally cannot make the spaghetti, that last lesson from Michael is a real missing puzzle piece.

In Braciole,  when he gets the recipe, he goes to cook it, for family. It’s really nice, that scene, feels comparable to Sydney making omelette. It’s quiet, and Carmy seems content, if wistful. The pork instead of beef panic of earlier is put to the side for now. The previous day, Carmy has gone to Al-Anon and confessed, unburdened himself. Then followed two quiet days and a blue hued night of atonement: he reaffirmed his commitment to Richie, paying his bail and keeping watch all night, gave Tina the night off, apologised to Marcus and acknowledged that his behaviour towards Sydney wasn’t acceptable, as well as speaking to her about her dish, like an adult. Carmy has to do all of this before he finds the money, before he gets the validation that he’s really longing for from his brother.

JAW getting his Emmy, his Golden Globe, his SAG Award, his Bafta, his future Oscar Winning role.

If The Bear at its core is about grief, and the void that Michael’s death leaves, then one of the big journeys of Season One is the subsequent death of the Beef, ready for its rebirth as The Bear in the following season. Review is the short sharp stab to the gut, of Sydney leaving, and taking any hope that it can be reformed as is, with her work. I don’t think the nature of a puncture wound, and the shortness of that episode are unrelated.

Braciole is more of a death rattle: Jimmy’s debt keeping them trapped in shitty work they don’t want to do, situations that spiral out of control and descend into violence, their parachute turned to bail money. But Michael wanted more for his brother than that, and he has left him a foundation. He does not have to burn the place down, there need not be smoke and hellfire. There’s another avenue for rebirth, one where ‘set this place on fire’ does not have to mean an insurance scam, but instead can mean an ignition of all their ambition and dreams.

To get there there has to be an ego death first, a moment of hubris that gets our protagonists fresh, and clean, so they can move to the new. Sydney sees and experiences the worst of herself (more on this in the final part!). Richie gets stabbed (more on this in the next part).

Carmy? Carmy has to encountera crisis where not only could his training not save him but many of the lessons he learnt while he was away and his reasons for going in the first place actively made the situation worse, and those that had faith in him and his preferred system turned away from him, deeply hurt. His ego gets in the way of connection, and it shatters the partnership that he needs to make it all work. He is clinging to old ways of being that has not served him, but he needs to move forward into what is new. And he does.

Well.

He tries.

SMDH

WHEW

Another long one, sorry fam. I’m almost there though. Am I sorry? No, I’m grateful if you read it, and I hope you enjoyed it.

I hope I’m pulling this together coherently, that I’m showing a sort of throughline to the way I view Episode 7. I don’t think Sydney is perfect! I do think her walking out is narratively and politically (the show wants better for the workplaces its drawn from) necessary, and I hate, hate, hate the simplification of that decision to ‘he shouted at her so she bailed’. Please, you can’t think this show is well written and think her decision is as simple as that, it doesn’t make sense. That exit is crafted so that it is inevitable, there is a movie’s worth of build up to it.

We’re looking at Richie, Syd and Carmy next time, fam. I am trying so hard to cut it down cus it’s currently sat at 15,000 words, but I’m gonna try really hard to edit down, OK? I’m gonna try really hard.

I can’t respond but I value reblogs and comments so much!

This is part of a five part series! You can find the rest here:

Expect More: Syd and Carmy's relationship,

I know you'll be listening: Marcus, McDonald's and Freedom

Risottogate

Hiring New Fucking Broads: Syd, Richie and conflict;

"That's Not You" The Moment Syd Walks Out

[codename-adler]

hi queen what is the aftg x tlou 🧎 my two obsessions <3

this was the fricking hardest to answer bc it goes so deep and my love for tlou runs even deeper, and it's still in the works and very much not written, but at last! i have summoned enough brain power to give you this!

it all started here because of thanks to my love @cielalune and her beautiful beautiful turn out the lights ♥️♥️♥️

now in no particular order nor sense

the final starting lineup:

Wymack as Joel

Kevin as Sarah

Rhemann as Tommy

Abby as Tess

Neil as Ellie

the goal is a Wymack-centric fic. i want him love him need him so bad, i'm gonna dedicate a fic to him and ruin his life. ain't no other love language baby. all of the fic, except specific episode-chapters like Bill & Frank, or Ellie & Riley, will be from Wymack's pov. no unreliable narrator Neil i'm afraid beloved. i fucking challenged myself and i'm beginning to regret it.

Andreil?

perhaps a smidge, that sweet sweet baby carrot dangling before the mule, but it is in no way an Andreil-centric fic. sorries.

what about other ships and characters?

hehe. i am having FUN. i'm breaking glass ceilings, tearing down walls, pushing through barriers. some unique flavors one might say. don't worry you'll have your fill of lengthy cameos. mouth zipped shut for now tho. unless i'm persuaded...

Exy?

i hardly know her... eh tbh i have no idea yet what kind of world pre-Cordyceps i'm going to play with.

game or show?

both. HBO TLoU + game pt. 1 + pt. 2... ouchies. the fic will not be a series however. it's going to be long af, but one fic only. i know the end.

the itinerary?

canon tlou, to the south. 10 locations for now. same route shape. aftg canon relevant. figure it out.

the soundtrack?

BANGER. OMNIPRESENT. you know it. the HBO show soundtrack is my reason to breathe. they get it. they sooooo get it. - teaser 1: the code is 70s for "nothing new" / 80s for "new message" / 90s for "trouble" because that's when all the youngsters of our beloved aftg cast were born ;) (subject to change tho, but as of now the songs and plotlines involving this code work well) - teaser 2: the main/theme song i'm feeling for the fic is

trying to come up with a title around that, so far no luck. the wip title remains "aftg x tlou", sadly... yikes.

coming to ao3 when?

not soon at all. 3 chapters are outlined so far, and they cover three fourths of episode one. each chapter works as an episode. one episode of the HBO show equals to several chapters/episodes of the fic. i'm combining game 1 & 2 into one biiiiiiiig stretch like i said so. i'm screwed.

[ishanijasmin]

fashioning the self: a journey through wardrobe + identity

it’s a sunday afternoon in what i would safely call the early middle of summer. i shove a coat and a suit into a reusable grocery bag, and shuttle it through a heaving euston station. i have twenty minutes to wait for my train because its delayed, so i beeline to oliver bonas to see what’s happening in fashion today (it’s the same thing that’s been happening every time i visited my parents for the past three months. i don’t think i have once successfully bought something at oliver bonas, not for lack of wanting to, but i guess for lack of being able to justify spending £70 on a cardigan. there’s a watermelon-shaped wallet on sale that has me like, surely you wouldn’t be so crass as to make a palestine emoji-themed wallet, but you can never tell with capitalism.) this morning i checked my facebook for the first time in a month and realised my profile picture is from my wedding, which was nearly two years ago. and that led to me going through my profile pictures and cringing at my teenage self, but not changing it because summoning the emotional energy to go through my photos and potentially upload something would be saying that i still care about facebook and i don’t know if i want to do myself like that.

i don’t know if it’s the dopamine window shopping trip, the woman next to me whose sparkly outfit i compliment, the hate scroll, the empty seat at the euston station piano that i half-contemplate filling, or the fact that i feel increasingly unable to represent myself the way i want to in my own body and closet that has me thinking about fashion today. in reality, i’m always half-thinking about it. it’s been something that governed me since i found myself part of the myfitnesspal generation aged 14.

i think sartorial representation is difficult for most folks - the idea that you’ll stumble upon the right combination of clothes and makeup and nail styling and hair and weight and muscle tone and race and gender and ability and you’ll be covetable and interesting and beloved, but like, in an easy and consumable way that raises no queries, and preferably in a way that can be completed in an afternoon. the makeover is a sexy, sexy idea, right? the makeover gives the impression that you can be done. nay, the movie itself gives the impression that you can be done, by the sheer requirement for it to have an ending. i used to feel like my wardrobe could be finished, and around the age of 27 i concluded that it can’t, because i am never finished; the thought of it is nerve wracking and exciting and numbing in equal measure. to never be finished is beautiful, but to still have things to accumulate (and thereby, to shed) is kind of sickening. 

the phases i’ve been going through have brought me to where i am, which is kind of loud but also uncertain. i’m wearing silk sweatpants my tailor and friend, kelsang, made for me on commission. these are my latest and greatest attempt to merge my style and my heritage - a mashed up inside joke nod to me spending a quarter of my life in the gym with material i could literally never wear there. and they look good, but i don’t know if they look good on me. last year i opted to get myself a name necklace, inspired by sex and the city’s carrie - but i couldn’t bear to get one in english, so i got one in hindi despite the fact i deliberately skipped learning the alphabet in learning the language. where i am right now has me feeling phony - it really highlights the in-betweenness of my existence, in a way that normcore or only wearing black didn’t really tap into because the only wrong way to go monochrome is not to do it. it also has me feeling boring. i don’t know how to put things together anymore, i don’t feel like i have the right shoes for my outfits, and it feels like i’m leaving the house in a turtleneck and jeans 70% of the time.

this isn’t helped by the suit in my tesco bag being a peacock blue tailored commission from around 3 years ago, that’s seen me through a bunch of stage shows and some particularly extravagant days out. me retiring it to my parents’ house means accepting that this isn’t me right now - i’m not the person wearing a turquoise iridescent suit out and about, just maybe to a wedding once every 3 years. i don’t know who that makes me now. the pieces we abandon, temporarily or forever, the ones that we acquired that don’t fit who we are now or the person we thought we could become—these are all goodbyes, not just to the apparel, but to the person that was or could have been.

yesterday i went to a party dressed as shania twain from man! i feel like a woman, and i put on eye makeup for the first time since my wedding and felt uncomfortable with myself, caricaturesque, because more so than ever, i don’t really feel like a woman. yes, i am growing into my body in a lot of ways, getting stronger slowly, but i found myself on the tube wanting to say, ‘don’t worry! i don’t do this all the time.’ do what—wear poorly applied eyeliner? it’s london and literally no one cares how well your makeup is applied because you can bet they’ve know someone who can do a full face on the central line and compared to that incredible subset of people, we are all bronze medalists in the femme olympics.

all this discomfort and, and every one of us just a ball of neurons in a flesh vehicle. i am ever moving and changing, whatever that looks and feels like: all black or in wild technicolour, long hair or short or shorn or shaven, suit or sari or sundress or sweatpants, showing up. showing up and calling my dad to tell him i’m late and i love him, always steadily coming to terms with my imperfections. leaving my clothes in the liminal storage space of my parents’ garage because i myself stand perpetually in the liminal space between my parents’ house and my own, between who they made me and who i am making myself. to be done is be perfect is to be finished, and when i am finished i will be dust, and there’s some sort of deep relief somewhere in knowing that.

[adhd-coyote]

Welp, now that my summer job is over, I finally have more time for these babies!! Next batch of clone ocs!!! I don't know what number we're on now lol

@whiskygoldwings @the-starry-seas @thivell @grackle-draws @hastalavistabyebye Today I'll be doing Siren Squad! They are featured in the first chapter of Coyote's Clone Chaos!

Some lore! The original members of Siren Squad - Whistle, Chirp, Chitter, Hiss, and Click - came up with their own language when they were cadets! They named it Siren'a (a combination of their squad name and Mando'a), and it's an entirely wordless language- it consists of various animal-like noises, such as chirps, chitters, trills, whistles, etc. Almost a year into deployment, they adopted three unnamed Shinies who had recently lost their squads - Trill, Bark, and Howl - into the squad and taught them Siren'a.

Whistle

He/They

The eldest; Siren Squad's beloved ori'vod

Quietest of the bunch, other than Chitter. He isn't shy, they just prefer not to talk if he doesn't have anything to say

The responsible one

Chirp

He/Him

Happy sunshine baby

Smarter than he looks

Very protective of his squadmates

Chitter

He/Him

The middle child of the original squad, but treated like the youngest, which he doesn't mind at all

Anxious bby

The scar over his "defective" eye came from a training "accident"

Talks in his sleep- well, the Siren'a version of talking. Quiet hums, chitters, and trills

Hiss

He/Him

One of the youngest (of the original squad), but is such an ori'vod

Will bite, but gives a warning in the form of a loud hiss and bared teeth first

Seems mean, but is so soft for his kih'vode

Click

He/Him

A little shit

Same vibes as a cat that makes eye contact with you while pushing an expensive vase off the counter

Has amazing tooka eyes, but his squad has grown immune to them

Trill

They/Them

A baby

Very curious- sometimes too much for his own good

Collects soft things for his bed

Was originally in a different squad than Bark and Howl before a cave-in killed most of both squads

Bark

He/Him

Just as protective as Hiss, but slower to bite

Petty and patient. He can and will hold a grudge for the rest of his life- except against his squadmates

Snarky asshole <3

From the same squad as Howl

Howl

He/Him

Golden retriever energy

Always up for a good time

So much energy all the time

Bouncy and loud

From the same squad as Bark

And those are my Siren babies!! Aren't they adorable???

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Chapter 13 (finale!)

It was a few more months before the wedding planning was done, and during that time, you got to know Alastor better. He wasn't really that bad except for when he felt the need to antagonize your fiancé. You and Zariah worked together to try and get the boys to act civil, with mild success. It seemed “teasing” was just one of Alastor's love languages. 

 

Finally though, it was the wedding day. Angel Dust, the spider demon you'd gotten to know recently, was doing your makeup.

“So, ready to become a queen?” He asked. 

“I don't know about ‘queen’… but I'm definitely ready to be his wife.” You look at yourself in the mirror and already the tears start to come.

“Hey! Hey! Nooo, nu uh! Hold off the waterworks till after the I Dos! At least let him see my hard work first!” He was grinning as he teased you.

 

Fizzarolli was holding your bouquet at the moment, making sure none of the flowers were wilted. He'd agreed to walk you down the aisle since your father wasn't an option. 

 

Zariah was going over some last minute things on the phone with Vaggie, who was with Charlie, who was with Him . Your soon-to-be husband. “Do you need me to come over there?... How do you usually get her to stop crying?... Just put Charlie on the phone then!” She was laughing, it seemed Charlie couldn't stop from crying over how happy she was to get to see her father get married.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself. Your dress was an off the shoulder a-line with tulle sleeves. Your veil hangs behind as you stand from your chair. It has star and sun patterns with feathers on the edges in silver and gold. You look like a radiant goddess.

______

 

You were in front of the door leading out of the hotel. Nifty and Razzle were behind you ready to go as flower girls, and Alastor poked his head in, “You sure you want to marry the fool? You know Lilith isn't going to like this when she eventually comes home.” He was trying to stir shit up for fun, since he'd already taken care of the paparazzi and all the other “trouble makers”. 

 

“I'm sure. And if she does show up, I'll kick her ass for hurting him! I'm ready.” You smile, “Thanks Al, I needed that.” 

He hummed, “Good, you better keep your word on kicking her ass. He's counting on you.” He then popped back out and got the wedding march started. It was a slow piano version of “stand by you”. The song you sang to him just before he proposed.

 

Fizzarolli took your arm. “Here we go, try not to cry until the vows, okay?” You nod, buzzing in excitement. The doors opened, and you began to walk.

You see him at the end of the makeshift aisle. He looks stunning and stunned. 

He's wearing a new white suit, one with what almost looks like a three tier skirt in the back. Like a combination wedding gown and suit. It's elegant and the back is open in a diamond pattern, showing the markings where his wings rest in his back. His hat is gone, replaced with a proper crown in its place. He doesn't look like himself really, far more serious than you've ever seen him… but the love in his eyes is the same as ever.

 

You begin to walk, Fizz keeping a hold on you to keep you from just running to him. When you get closer you can see tears in his eyes, and a tremble in his smile. Charlie stood beside him as his best man, and Asmodeus stood at the altar to act as your officiate. 

 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite two souls in the firey, passionate bonds of Love and Marriage. And if anyone knows anything about love, it's the lord of Lust! Because while lust is fun for a while, love is the fuel that keeps that fire burning.” He looked at Fizz, sitting on your side of the aisle with a blush and a grin.

“Now, I'll stop my blubbering, and let you love birds say your vows, as I've been told our king has something special prepared.” Now everyone's attention was on Lucifer, as he took your hands.

 

“Becca, my sweet apple pie… before you literally fell into my life, I was a depressed wreck of a man. I couldn't bear to look at myself in the mirror. It was bad, real bad. Like, days without eating bad. I never thought I'd love again, or that I'd ever be able to face my daughter in such a state. And there you were, in my garden. Then you treated me so gently and with such kindness, I thought at first maybe I was finally being forgiven for my sins… then I realized you were too good for me, but you kept coming back and bringing out the best in me. Because to you, Charlie and I have reconnected. Because to you, the Sins and I are back to being family again. Because of you, my life is better than it has been in over one thousand years. And I promise, for as long as I exist, I will give you all the love I have in my heart. I'll cherish and adore you for all of eternity. I give you my heart, as bruised and battered as it is… please be gentle with it.” He smiled fondly at you.

 

The tears fall without your consent. “Luci… babe…” He reaches out to dry your tears. 

 

Ozzie smiled fondly, “Those were some beautiful words Luci. Now it's Becca's turn, you need a minute baby girl?”

You take Lucifer's hands that are holding your cheeks, and kiss the palm of each of them once. Then smile, “I'm good.”

 

“Lucifer… I know I wasn't meant to be in hell, but this has felt more like home than anywhere else in my life and afterlife. When we were alive, Zariah and I would joke about if we ended up in hell, I called dibs on marrying you. But now it's not a joke, but my greatest dream come true. I love you, more than any man I've ever loved. You've made me feel seen and appreciated and adored. You make me feel wanted and needed. And it's just as much what you don't do that makes me love you. You don't make me feel like your mother figure, and you don't make me feel exhausted from caring for you. I feel like your equal, and I feel energized lifting you up when you need it. Because you lift me up too. You'll never walk through hell alone, because I'm gonna stand by you every step of the way. I'll never leave you.”

Now it was his turn to cry, his eyes sparkling as rivers cascade down his cheeks.

 

“Alright baby! Now that's what I'm talking about!” Ozzie chuckled excitedly, “Becca, do you take Lucifer, the king of hell, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 

“I do.” Your voice is full of certainty and confidence. 

 

“Lucifer, king of hell, lord of Pride. Do you take Becca to be your lawfully wedded wife and queen?”

 

“I do!” He's still sobbing as he says it, too excited to contain himself anymore.

 

“Then I pronounce you, Girlboss and Malewife! Haha, nah I'm playin’! I pronounce you Husband and Wife, now go on and kiss each other!” He smiled and Lucifer practically pounced at the opportunity to press his lips to yours.

 

The crowd was a combination of laughter and cheers, but you didn't care. You had a husband to smooch.

And to have and hold.

For the rest of eternity.

 

The End

______

(Bonus)

 

During the reception, the two of you sneak away while everyone's partying for some one on one time. Once alone on the hotel roof, Lucifer can't stop fidgeting…. 

“What's on your mind? Got something exciting planned for our wedding night you can't wait for?” You tease, sitting next to him.

 

“Hm? Oh, well, yeah, but… I also have something I wanted to run by you… so… you know normally once a human soul is dead, they can't have kids anymore? Well… I have the power to completely negate that rule. If I choose to. So… if you wanted… someday… maybe we could…” He looked at his hands as he fidgeted with his new ring. This one had your name engraved on the outside and inside.

 

“You… we could make Charlie a little sibling!” You realized what he was trying to say and tackled him! “Yes! Absolutely Luci! I'd love to! Let's… let's have a baby!”

 

The End (for real now)

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve x Eddie Werewolf AU

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Not that you need to read any of that to get it because this skips ahead after the Vecna battle, Steve uses a pack mating bond to save Eddie and all you need to know past that is there is like, romance novel type werewolves (not A/B/O) and also Alexi’s alive. 

Steve’s wolf has always accepted Hopper as a father figure, allowing the older man’s pack to slot easily over Steve’s larger one due to the bonds both the children involved have with their parents, and how the overwhelming majority of his pack views Hopper as a trusted, beloved elder. 

Absolutely, Steve is their Alpha, the wolf in charge of their Pack. There is no question there, no argument (particularly since the children’s original pack had all but harassed Steve into taking up the role) but as does happen with werewolves, the human and wolf halves mixed to create sort of in between, combined culture. Within it, parental figures can easily hold ties to their own children, no matter if they were in different packs. 

Not that things still didn’t end in bloody fights, but as with most things, werewolves had, at large, contingencies in place to prevent dominance fights in modern times. 

Steve had always respected that, respected Hopper, more so than any other adult he knew beyond perhaps Joyce. 

A fact that made this display all the more startling. 

“Hopper.” 

The words crackle with power, werewolf dominance and pack magic flooding the kitchen. 

Murray sucked in a breath while Alexi outright shuddered, more affected by it than Eddie and Hopper. The latter two still look over in surprise as Steve stalks in. 

The movement is predatory, almost inhuman, and no one needed to see Steve’s gold eyes to figure out that it was his wolf in control. 

He moved fast, faster than he should be with his injuries, to come to rest with his back in front of Eddie. It’s an aggressive, protective, stance, fury rolling off him in waves along with the blatant display of pack magic. 

“Why are you harassing my mate?” Steve outright snarled, and there is not a person in the room who has ever heard him sound so unfriendly. 

For a moment everyone freezes. 

“I’m making sure Eddie knows what’s important.” Hopper responded after a long moment. “--for the safety of both our packs.” 

He’s holding his stare, looking Steve straight in the eyes.

 Challenging him. 

It’s the wrong move.

Murray shifted slightly in front of Alexi, both their heads ping-ponging between Steve and Hopper. 

Eddie himself sucked in a quiet breath but tries to keep his own emotions down-the last thing  they need is Steve and Hopper have a blowout fight in the kitchen. 

Not when Steve’s wolf was in charge. 

Steve Harrington the human fought only to inconvenience. He lost fights due to the fact that he didn’t want to permanently harm the people he often fought against. He hated killing, refused to physically punish his packmates in the style many traditional werewolves preferred, and as a whole let even the most submissive of his pack boss him around. 

Steve Harrington the wolf fought to kill. 

No hesitation, no pulled punches. 

Just death. 

The noise that ripped its way out of Steve’s chest is inhuman. “Eddie is mine. You have no right to him, or to question my decisions.” 

The way his wolf speaks is strangely formal, almost royal. Not the choked, half-formed sentences many wolves speak in when taking over in human form, wolf understanding incompatible with human languages. 

He doesn’t have to see Steve’s eyes to see the warning in them. “You’ve overstepped.” 

“It’s okay.” Eddie said quietly, trying to head this off before it gets worse. It’s his fault, he realizes with horror, that Steve is out here now. He had been the one to lose control, to tease and taunt Hopper as was his usual defense when being read the riot act. 

It was second nature to him, a layer of defense. Words couldn’t hurt if he didn’t let him. People wouldn’t betray him if he forced their intentions towards him out in the open. 

Except this was Chief Jim Hopper, legendary Hawkins hero and father figure to the vast majority of his shiny new pack. 

Including the man who had decided that someone as worthless as Eddie was worth claiming as his mate. 

He’d let his emotions get the better of him, goaded Hopper into saying shit that frankly, wasn’t even close to the worst that had ever been thrown at him, even before the entire satanist-cult-murderer business.

Got his own stupid feelings hurt in the process, because he somehow had led himself to believe this adult, the fucking Chief of Police, who was well acquainted with his shitty parents and had arrested Eddie himself on a half-dozen occasions for everything ranging from petty theft to selling drugs, and who had been stuck in a Russian prison and fighting away from Eddie entirely, would believe that he was a good addition for Steve’s pack. 

The same pack his daughter was in (and if looks were to go by, his step-sons as well.) 

Nevermind all the children he’d been defending from this bullshit for ages. 

“Steve, it’s okay.” He stresses, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on his mate’s shoulder. 

The younger wolf doesn’t acknowledge him. 

Hopper’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of his wolf’s green starting to show around his pupils.  

“Think it’s time we all cool off. Maybe not have a pissing match in Joyce’s kitchen?” Murray’s voice is uncharacteristically devoid of its usual crazed energy, but Eddie’s got to give the man points for trying. 

The dude’s a weird one, in a way that Eddie almost feels a strange kinship with. Unlike Murray though, Eddie’s got a dominant streak in him that makes him do more than just taunt and poke. It makes him strut, flaunt, throw things in people’s faces. 

Murray is smart enough to not give in to that half of himself-or perhaps, simply doesn’t have that same need to display his dominance in new and confounding ways. 

“Shut up Murray.” Is Hopper’s reply, voice hard. 

Steve manages to tense even further, muscles in his arms and neck flexing to make themselves known. For a moment his fingers blur in and out-Eddie catches the movement and tugs hard at Steve's shirt. 

Somehow he knows that If Steve shifts at all, even just to get his claws out, it’s game over.

There won’t be any going back once they fight. Not when they're like this. Not when Steve’s told him that Hopper and Steve have never fought before, and the kids are thankful for it. The dynamic the two packs have, the familiar bond between them keeping the peace-they need that.

Tears try to burn their way out of Eddie as he once again finds himself on the edge of ruining everything for everyone else around him. 

‘Maybe I am the devil,’ He thought hysterically, ‘--set here on earth to destroy everything around me.’ 

Hopper spotted the collection of power as it shifted down to Steve’s hands. His back straightened, shoulders going tense and Eddie knows he’s about to step forward, is trying desperately to figure out a way to stop this, when Jonathan bumbles dead into their midst.

He’s sleepy, hair a mess, sweatpants riding low on his hips and shirt slightly off one shoulder. The calmness that comes with him is the kind only an Omega wolf can pull, blanketing over the building anger in Hopper and blatant rage from Steve. 

“Mornin.” He mumbled, before he opened his mouth in a yawn, lazily opening a cabinet next to Steve and Eddie. He pulls out a cup, fills it with water, movements slow and deliberate. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. 

This is their pack Omega. Sure okay, he was one of their best fighters according to literally everyone else (not that Eddie would know, he hasn’t been around the guy long enough to tell much about him) but the fact remained: Omega’s were rare. Precious. 

Protected.

And he was putting himself directly in harm’s way. 

“Byers.” He managed to get the warning out, voice half strangled. 

Hopper’s eyes snap to Eddie, a wave of protectiveness flowing forward in that sort of scent/magic/posture/positioning way their wolf halves spoke to one another. 

It was a response clearly made over Jonathan, which definitely meant that dating or not, he’d decided to consider the kid a one of his own. 

Steve shortly came to the exact same conclusion and as expected, considering the elder-Byers  was his Pack’s Omega, reacted poorly. 

Very poorly. 

Power took visible form, cackling outwards from his eyes and down around his hands, dancing across his fingers. The blur was back, not quite yet shifting fingernails into claws but it was a close thing. 

Hopper raised his lips in a snarl, fangs already formed. Eddie felt panic rise fast within him, hand still clutching Steve’s shirt. Watched as Murray shoved Alexi further back into the wall, in preparation of getting the more submissive wolf out of the way and Jonathan-

Jonathan fucking sighed, before dropping his entire body weight against Steve, leaning on him while preventing any movement form either angry Alpha for risk of hitting him if they fought. 

One again, every single person in the room froze. 

Byers took a noisey sip of water before raising his eyes to stare to the left of Hopper’s.

“Could we not do this today?” He said quietly, that Omega calmness solidifying into a blanket-like feeling. 

There was a moment so tense Eddie could taste it, before Steve��s wolf released the power he’d drawn, the visible electric-like energy easing before disappearing entirely. 

“Everyone is still nursing injuries and I kinda think the kids would prefer a day where they didn’t have to see blood everywhere.” He continued, soft voice sounding annoyed. 

Eddie could feel the undercurrent of Jonathan’s own abilities pulsing outwards. Soothing things over, easing bloodlust and anger both. 

His head rolled, eyes flicking from Hopper to Steve. “And personally, I’d like to go back to bed with my packmates.”

Over the Pack-Bond he added,  ::Who shouldn’t be out of bed with their injuries.:: 

It was a fond chastisement that in any other scenario would have made Eddie smile.  

Hopper opened his mouth, only to be beaten when another voice jumped into the fray.

Joyce Byers, mother figure of Steve’s pack and second in command of Hopper’s (if not currently his mate, Eddie was very unclear on that dynamic) strode into the kitchen, hands on her hips. 

“What is happening here?” She demanded, her own Omega abilities matching smoothly with Jonathan’s as she came to stand in between Steve and Hopper. 

Eddie had met her a few more times than he had Hopper, enough to know that the Byer’s ability to churn out Omega’s was particularly strong considering Joyce was also one. 

Will hadn’t taken on any similar abilities, not yet, but the kid was extremely submissive in nature and there was a going bet about it being just a matter of time before he too, came up as an Omega wolf. 

Joyce took in the scene in her kitchen with narrowed eyes. They landed on her eldest son for a moment, the two of them no doubt communicating silently in that way parents and kids often did,  before she continued. 

“Hopper, why are you cornering three of my kids?” She demanded, rounding on her pack leader.. 

Eddie damn near fell into Steve at the words, he flinched so hard. 

Apparently, the claim startled Hopper too. “I-” He began but Joyce flickered her hand out,  cutting him off. 

“Are you seriously trying to start a fight in my kitchen? Barely a few days after all the-the crazy shit happened!?” Her voice raised in pitch, her own anger joining the fray, but unlike other werewolves, Joyce’s had the distinct ability to make everyone involved feel deeply, deeply ashamed. 

Eddie certainly did, for starting this whole mess.

‘You knew you weren’t good enough for them.’ His inner voice whispered. ‘You should have done more to convince them you were nothing but a fucking mess. They never should have allowed you to join their pack.’ 

“I’m trying to be a good parent here, Joyce.” Hopper grit out but it was aimed entirely at her, his attention falling away from Steve. “I have arrested Munson more times than I can count, and while it’s one thing to give the kid a pass now and then it’s another when the kids are involved!” 

Jonathan sighed as the two began to bicker, Joyce physically advancing on Hopper with a wagging finger. 

“I cannot believe you’d be this stupid-!” She was saying, and though it was aimed at the older man she might as well have said it to Eddie too.

He’d been stupid.

So fucking stupid. 

“Mate.” Steve said firmly, making him flinch again and Joyce pause. “Whatever he said to you isn’t true.” 

It was spoken to Hopper, though Eddie realized instantly after watching Joyce’s face darken in realization that it wasn’t said just for the Chief to hear. 

Stve’s wolf apparently, was just as cunning as his human half was. 

Their Alpha turned slowly, letting Jonathan fall gently into his chest before the other man righted himself, the two of them shielding Eddie with their bodies as Steve put his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips, palms flat on the counter. 

“None of it is true.” He repeated firmly, wolf gold staring directly at him. 

Eddie gulped, looked away.

“Okay.” He whispered, when it was clear Steve’s wolf wanted an answer. 

He could tell he was being scrutinized. Figured if he cried now, hed’ ruin all the peace Jonathan and Joyce had just brought them. 

So he cleared his throat, and mumbled a second time, “Okay.” 

That seemed to satisfy. 

“Guys, seriously.” Jonathan complained, leaning into their space slightly, pushing that quiet calm forward. “Can we go back to bed now?” 

Steve huffed. In a very uncharacteristic gesture, he leaned across Eddie’s lap to press a chaste kiss to Jonathan’s cheek. It was probably the closest thing a human had to a wolf’s lick, intention wise, which was the only potential reason behind it Eddie’s brain could come up with before it damn near stalled out at the sight. 

“Come, Mate. Our Omega wants to sleep.” Steve gently pulled Eddie off the counter, the other boy’s breath whooshing out in surprise. Eddie barely caught the blush that inflamed Jonathan’s face before as he was pulled right into Steve’s broad chest. 

Did definitely catch the way Steve curled one arm possessively around his waist, before reaching out to touch Byer’s arm for no reason Eddie could figure out. He positioned him so that Eddie was between the two younger wolves, Jonathan closest to his mother and Hopper, the arm wrapped around him never leaving (and likely there in case Steve needed to pull him out of the way, behind him.) 

“Go back to bed kids.” Joyce called over her shoulder, giving the three of them a gentle, mothering smile, one finger pressed firmly into Hopper’s chest as if to hold him still. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay mom.” Jonathan mumbled, and yup, his face was positively burning. 

Eddie tucked that reaction away for later, as Steve and Jonathan both started forward, tugging him along between them. 

They didn’t even make it all the way down the hall before the argument between Joyce and Hopper resumed, in a kind of hushed yelling that said they were trying to be quiet and not quite succeeding. 

“What on earth possessed you-” was the starting words from Joyce at the same time Hopper whisper-shouted; 

“I was handling it-” 

Alexi’s quiet, musical laughter and Murray’s loud, deadpanned. “Clearly not.” followed. 

Jonathan and Steve led him back to Jonathan’s room. A handful of the kids were holed up across the hallway in Will’s, the door firmly closed. 

Superior werewolf senses let Eddie hear the light snoring coming from within, showing they at least had managed to keep the fight from the kids who were here, and found himself grateful that their group had chosen to split between the Pack’s two dens. 

Meaning Robin and Nancy weren’t here at least, to see him fall apart.

Personally he’d prefer it if Jonathan and Steve weren’t either, but then, he had yet to manage not to shatter into pieces around his mate. 

Apparently causing problems wasn’t the only thing he was cursed to keep repeating. 

Steve walked them all to Jonathan’s bed like it was his own, door swinging closed behind him. He insisted Jonathan get in bed first with a gentle push, putting him closest to the wall. 

He nudged Eddie in next, the metalhead climbing in silently, trying to ignore the awkwardness of sharing a close space with a packmate he barely knew. 

Jonathan looked downright shy for a moment, averting his gaze as Eddie laid down next to him. That was sure to go away soon given both their Pack status and the fact there was zero space in this bed, though Eddie was struggling to recall much of Jonathan from their high school days.. 

What he did remember spoke to the elder-Byer’s just being the shy and quiet type in general. 

It was only awkward for the moment it took Steve to drop down next to him on hands and knees, the man physically scooting Eddie closer to Jonathan which startled noises out of them both. 

Steve apparently, wasn’t done just yet. He moved to hover over Eddie, their chests touching, as he pressed his forehead against Jonathan’s, eyes lidded. 

“Thank you, Omega.” He said a painful amount of honesty in his voice. Jonathan hummed in response, sliding his own eyes closed as he relaxed down into the pillows under him. 

Steve pulled back, gold eyes moving to look into Eddie’s own. “You belong with us. Here.” He said, the wolf speaking plainer than Steve the human over would. 

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against Eddie’s forehead for a moment too, before swiftly turning the gesture in a deep, quick kiss. 

“You are ours.” He continued when he pulled up, and now it was Eddie’s turn to blush horribly. “Now, we sleep.” 

Then he fucking curled into Eddie’s side like he hadn’t just embarrassed the hell out of two of his packmates, sleep claiming him near instantly. 

Not surprising considering his wounds, and the pack magic he had to have pulled to not only remain upright but threatening, but Eddie still wanted to groan about it, emotions rubbed raw by the morning's activities. 

“That’s Steve for you.” Jonathan whispered in Eddie’s ear, though he refused to look at him when Eddie turned towards him. “Welcome to the team, Munson.”

“Thanks.” Eddie responded automatically. “I think.” 

Jonathan laughed gently, breaking the awkward tension between them enough to allow both to slowly, quietly, drift to sleep. 

[troutfur]

Where am I from anyway?

Let's go! Response roundout! I got a couple people who got it correct but let's first review all the wrong answers.

@somebirdiedude

I wanna say Australia or Oceania as a whole? Just vibes + pseudo-memory of u saying that to base it off of tbh

I used to date an Australian genderfluid guy and we were very good friends for years. I don't know if any of my speech habits in English were derived from that but I don't think so? He didn't have a super pronounced aussie accent to my ear at least. Is it that perhaps? But anyway. No. Wrong hemisphere entirely, or hemispheres rather. Next!

@gophergal

Well, your first language is Spanish (iirc) and I'm pretty sure you aren't from North America or Europe, which doesn't narrow it down much. I'm just gonna guess El Salvador

My beloved mutual. With so little information you actually came so close, but you missed the mark. Props for guessing Central America though. We're so ignored in the world stage unless it's to complain about how many of us are desperate enough to try our luck being smuggled up north.

@jainkens

Brazil? The name makes me think it's from some Latin American country, I vaguely remember something about a parrot as a reference or something, and the color scheme of it is green which subconsciously made me think of Brazil. But broadly somewhere in Latin America (I am pretty sure that includes Brazil

I... I can't believe I'm only now noticing my Yellow-Naped Amazon Parrot fursona combined with my name being José makes it seem like I was deliberately referencing José Carioca from classic Disney propaganda pieces films Saludos Amigos and The Three Caballeros. Just look at them!

But anyway, no. I am from Latin America but not Brazil. Spanish speaking Latin America.

@jayinserenity

I can't remember for sure, but for some reason when we first started interacting I think I was convinced you were some brand of non-UK European. I could not begin to tell you Why that was what my brain insisted upon, but it was swiftly corrected lmao.

This reminds me of this one time I was playing DnD with an international online friend group. As we were coordinating our timezones, our DM, who was Scottish was reviewing all our locations. He listed me as part of the Europe timezone and when I said I wasn't European he was all like "Oh it doesn't matter that you weren't born here, you're still as much a European as the rest of us" and so on and so on. And I was so confused. Turns out one of my other friends in the group just straight up forgot I told them where I'm from and assumed Spain based on Spanish being my first language. So they told our DM and our DM in turn assumed me saying I'm not European meant I was an immigrant.

@heathfall

I know the answer so I'm going to give a blatant lie. Nevada, USA

SO GLAD THIS WAS THE ONE GUESS THAT HAD ME BE USAMERICAN. Legitimately, I really hope I don't come across as a gringo online. I was dreading this was gonna be a majority answer since it's just standard the internet is American. But I'm pleased how it seems the Latin American vibe shines through even with people who don't know the answer outright.

@tigerclawstar-shaped-cookie

peru i think. i cant. remember. something like that. evaporates

Too far south dude. But props for guessing Spanish-speaking Latin America.

And now for the correct answer!

@kingmystrie

i know you're in south america but idr if you're from argentina or guatemala it hink it was guatemala

@offkeyed-reason

idr if you mentioned it on the server but im pretty sure there was this name generator set that you asked for a specific region for/clarification bc Guatemala is different from other places. idr whose generators they are but yeah. Guatemala's my final answer

🎊🎊🎊

Yup! Guatemala, Central America. Although I like the note that you thought I could be from Argentina. It is indeed true I do reblog a surprising amount about Argentina. Blame it on their current president. Javier Milei is such a fascinating trainwreck of a man personally. It'd be funny if he wasn't running his country into the ground.

[anincompletelist]

get to know me tag! :D

OKAY @bigassbowlingballhead I am combining your tag with the ones from @littlemisskittentoes and @read-and-write- even though those were SO LONG AGO NOW but I realized I haven't ever really posted much about myself on here (unless you've followed me over from @soldouthaz ) sooooo HERE IS THAT? <3 thanks for the tags friends I loved reading about y'all!

First Set

Last Song: JAPANESE WHISKEY by Ruel

Last Film: No Hard Feelings jshdkjshd

Currently Reading:

the books sitting beside my laptop right now are:

- War of the Foxes / Richard Siken - Letters to Father / Franz Kafka - Time is a Mother / Ocean Vuong - On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous / Ocean Vuong - Devotions / Mary Oliver - The Cinnamon Peeler / Michael Ondaatje - Little Weirds / Jenny Slate

and fic-wise:

- I am hoping to finish the newest chapter of a sea of hope by acastle tonight - I just read A Thing of Beauty by @orchidscript last night (was wonderful!) - and I just compiled a list of all my January favorites here !

Currently Watching: The Bear is the next one up on my watch list if I ever manage to get around to it! love ayo so much!

Currently Consuming: a large diet coke from sonic skjhdkshd my beloved <3

Currently Craving: a cinnamon roll?

Three ships:

Firstprince

Sterek

I used to write Larry so I guess that counts? skjdhsdjkh

First Ship: oh gosh, I think sterek, but also technically Eddie and Loren from a show called Hollywood Heights when I was in middle school skjdhkjshd

+

Second Set

Were You Named After Anyone?

yes! the story of Sarah in the Old Testament of the Bible! she was described as faithful, loving, caring, stubborn (ha), and loyal, and also ties into my adoption story :)

When Was The Last Time You Cried?

oh gosh, several days ago, I think? it was my birthday skhdkjshd (no further explanation needed)

Do You Have Kids?

I do not, although I am the certified and confirmed 'Mom Friend'

What Sport Do/Have You You Played?

no <3

Do You Use Sarcasm?

not typically unless it's with someone I am very comfortable with. I work in a lot of mental health conscious areas and am studying to be a therapist so I try not to use any type of humor that could be negatively interpreted!

What's The First Thing You Notice About Other People?

usually body language! I'd say I pick up on energy fairly well, so that too, if applicable.

What's Your Eye Color?

blue! (surprise I am Henry)

Scary Movies or Happy Endings?

cannot watch scary movies, I have far too much anxiety in general to have a need to induce it intentionally jshdkjhs. it doesn't have to be a happy ending though, so long as the theme/lessons are well done. I adore digging into films and picking apart all of the layers and symbolism, so anything with some emotional weight is right up my alley! but I enjoy a bit of everything :)

Any Talents?

I'm a photographer both as a job and as a hobby, and I work part time as a makeup artist as well! I enjoy writing in my free time (obviously) and I like painting and drawing, although I definitely wouldn't consider myself very talented in those areas skjdhksd. honestly anything creative I will try and probably enjoy!

Where Where You Born?

Texas (I am Alex actually)

What Are Your Hobbies?

I touched on it earlier but photography, makeup, reading/writing, anything creative and anything psych related pretty much!

Do You Have Any Pets?

I have three! all dogs, two chihuahuas and a dachshund :)

How Tall Are You?

5'5? (I have been telling people my entire life I'm 5'7 and at my last doctor's visit they informed me that I was a liar!)

Favorite Subject in School?

english and psych!

Dream Job?

any place I can help people. I would love to be involved in a cause larger than myself while also getting to do something I'm passionate about, so anything from an english teacher to an editor to a therapist to volunteer work!

+

open tag to anyone who would like to share! <3

xx

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hiiii!!! this is for the match up thingy :3

im fixated on um. oh god. weight in gold - gallant, literally every hozier song ever and if im being honest - dodie. i really like the backing music and lyrics of all these songs and obviously i cant just choose one :3

ok i have no idea what this means but from highest? to lowest it’s apparently 6, 4, 3, 2, 8, 1, 5, 9 and 7

I ABSOLUTELY DO. i love learning so much,, i dont have a favourite but video games or historic events or horror are my favourite genre :3

i dont remember my childhood friends much but i conjured them up because everyone else had one and i felt left out. purely out of spite. but i loved them lots :3

ok. i sleep on my side with my leg out and switch between that and just on my stomach, suffocating in my pillow. and i never sleep in the silence. like i always have headphones on with music or asmr playing

i changed my name!!! i hated my birthname and the one i chose is much better. it also is the name of my sibling which i knew nothing about so i am basically a psychic

oh god. i reallt like gavins recent studying one annnnd ashers cookies one. and the damn bowling one. im gonna stop before i name 100 of them but i love them because they are so comforting and make me overflow in happiness :3 i love them

sam. sorry.. his videos r so boring to me BUT they make good sleep aids :3

princess and the frog, criminal minds and community. its a problem.

HUXLEY!!! oh my god i need to be his best friend and make him pottery SO bad. need to protect him with my life. oh my god. my beloved.

i talk a LOT about space and dinosaurs and the sea :3 i fucking love learning so i have a lot of lil facts from reading encyclopaedias and watching documentaries :3

oh god it changes every fucking time im in there but recently any flavoured milk and red doritos

amazing world of gumball. and uhh any other kids animation shows. reliving my childhood multiple years later smileyfaceemoji

other important stuff is probably my love language? main one is quality time and also gift giving in the sense that i WILL spend 17 hours straight on something if you merely mention it once. do not tempt me. i am the middle child of 5 but the eldest daughter and basically raised my younger siblings haha somoene help. um my MBTI is ISFP, ihave autism and adhd and have horribly high standards for myself!!! haha c: idk what else to say. i quite literallt am always chewing something and its either something that is definitely not edible and needs to be removed or strawberry gum. i also love fruit. so much. and lovingly bullying people is my love language. AND i apparently exude ‘ginger cat’ energy according to literally everyone i have the pleasure of knowing. so loved.

thank u so much for doing this, this was a mountain of an ask omgim sos sorry bff

You are such a dear- there was so much fun information in your ask for me to work with. Everything you gave me just makes me so sure and brings me such delight to talk about how perfect you would be with David!

One, ginger cat energy combined with big German shepherd energy? Cute as fuck, a match made in heaven. Two, an eldest daughter pairs perfectly with him and his only child/eldest brother in the pack vibes. It’s a lot of responsibility and obligation, I know from personal experience, and being able to chill out with that and just rely on him would be just what you need. Three, David is totally autistic, and we love an A4A couple.

Y’all would generally be just so cute and be exactly what you need in each other’s lives. Type Sixes are characterized as wanting security and support in their lives and relationships, and he heads a security companyyy (/j). Meanwhile you’d bring a joie de vivre and nurturing energy to his home and the pack that would be so appreciated. He’s not the only one who’d love to be around you; it’d be all the Shaws.

Song:

Feeling alive all over again/ As deep as the sky that's under my skin/ "Like being in love, " she says, "For the first time"/ Well, maybe I'm wrong, I'm feeling right/ Where I belong with you tonight/ Like being in love, to feel for the first time

My favorite David headcanon is that a lot of his music taste comes from rock/grunge music Gabe and Juliet (my hc name for his mom) used to play. That is exactly how I know this song, so I think it’s perfect for him. Plus, David seems like the type of guy where that first love is it. He imprints like a duck, mates for life like a penguin; he has you for his first and only love.

Runner-ups:

Vincent would be a cute runner up because he also has ginger cat energy once he dropped that flirty, Lestat-esque facade, so you’d make a fun, chaotic pair. Elliott, I like because I think you’d like a lot of the same things. He strikes me as the type of guy who would love a good Criminal Minds binge.

note: you’ve got great taste in movies and tv Community is one of my favorite shows 💕 also, thank you for being my fiftieth matchup 💌

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[altschmerzes]

Thoughts on the new ted lasso episode?????? I have so many conflicting opinions re: zava

well first of all this is how i enjoyed it:

i will be repeating the experience weekly. cannot more highly recommend cosymode ted lasso.

as for the episode itself- [shrieks into my hands] i'm gonna put some thoughts under a cut, both generally and re: zava specifically, thank you for asking. these thoughts are not going to be at all organized and mostly composed in run-on sentences i am so sorry.

IM ALSO.... CONFLICTED ON ZAVA I THINK though it's interesting bc as i was watching the episode i kept getting like, OUTRAGEOUSLY distracted by..... [checks notes] not knowing what his first name is. this is not a joke. it was ACTIVELY distracting for me. i kept telling myself sometimes people are like this. like cher. you don't need to know his first name. and then two minutes later someone would mention him again and i'd be like What Is The Man's Fucking Name Though. it was so bizarre lmaooo.

honestly re: the man himself i'm like!! idk!!! jamie is clearly already way in his feelings about this and i can only imagine it's going to get worse which is gonna be. fucking delicious if we actually get to spend some time with and unpack it because 'i feel like i'm being replaced and i'm getting anxious/upset/lashing out about it' is one of my favourite sources of Angst Plots. we shall see. i am as always a combination of hopeful and anxious.

the dude playing him really did a great job striking a very specific and identifiable vibe for someone who had like Three Lines of dialogue and whose face we saw clearly like once.

i feel like i have two diverging paths in front of me with this guy's arc and it's either gonna be 'i'm riveted and having a great time' or 'please get this dude out of my face' and no in-between

and now for some general thoughts:

didn't realize this was the chelsea episode and somehow still had 'chelsea dagger' on repeat while cleaning up and getting ready to go cosymode. (i am stealing that song from its association with the chicago hockey team. it whips too hard to be left to them.) enjoyed the accidental reference when i turned on the tv and saw the title. also kept remembering a couple irl friends who are chelsea fans and having myself a giggle.

speaking of 'great time' vs 'get this out of my face' how relieved am i that they've now bait-and-switched me TWICE with fucking. love triangle bullshit. with roy and keeley and jamie. when he followed roy and not keeley i was like. oh thank fuck. the ensuing scene was both very sweet and very funny. they are welcome to continue bait and switching me on this as long as the switch Continues To Happen but if this goes in a Direction i am not gonna be thrilled.

something is brewing with keeley's company. it's not gonna....... go well, i think. something is gonna come to a head there, i got the feeling from the drop, and i'm not sure what or how yet but something's gonna give with that. all those scenes have this weird like. tension to them that i can't quite put my finger on and im intrigued to see where it goes.

i actually really like the CFO woman? she seems like a very interesting character and i think she and keeley could balance each other very well.

my jamie and dani besties agenda is flourishing. so is dani's hair. it's fantastic and i want to braid it.

oh speaking of hair back to zava for a second. beard pulled up the footage of him and i literally said out loud, pronouncing the letters not the word 'motherfucker': "oh this mf has my haircut"

AND SPEAKING OF DANI when he said "fuck off trent crimm" i think i shriek-laughed so hard the whole block heard me. dani my fucking beloved. i adore you.

y'know who else had a good episode here? isaac. his body language thing was so good. it made me laugh and also was a SPECTACULAR look into him as a person. every time we get a scrap of characterization on one of the secondary richmond player characters i dance around like the soot sprites with the candies in that ghibli movie i can't recall the title of off the dome.

i probably overblow this in my head, right, because everyone thinks their own perspective is like Super Unique or something but i really do think being an enormous irl sports fan is enhancing the experience i'm having with this show so much. watching the fans unfurl that banner for roy and cheer for him like that was like... immediately a half dozen welcome back tribute videos and player homecomings i've watched raced through my head and i was literally in actual physical tears. both bc of what was happening on screen and bc of All The Rest Of That in my head.

speaking of. oh my gd my heart hurt so much for roy as soon as he pulled that fucking. newspaper clipping from his wallet. i liked that he ripped it up at the end but i do wish it had come a little harder. he's been carrying that thing around for 20 years i'd have liked to see a biiiiit more of a battle over letting it go. still. holy shit and the bit at the end? about leaving chelsea? winded me. WINDED ME.

to be honest this was a rough one for him all around. i cannot imagine everyone i know making my breakup front page news in THEIR life too. which is like- they mean well and it's obviously coming from a good place and the people talking to him directly - jamie, ted, etc - are like. trying to be kind and supportive but if i were him i'd want to run away and also die in a hole about it so. big #felt that whole thing. even so, i do also have to say-

the roy's hyperbolic violence/threats thing is Back With A Vengeance! we know how i feel about this. i had a whole post about how i feel about this. it's a Bit, i know, it's a goof, this being a comedy show and roy being The Angry One but still i just. i feel like they take it a liiiiiittle past the pale in this ep, in general and also with jamie specifically. roy flying at him in the locker room during the big 'who's on first' round robin was a Bit Much for me - and i know i harp on this a lot but i maintain my stance here - given their history to this point. ted saying to roy near the end of the episode that like, he needed to get his act together or he'd be ruining more than one match was a good touch that did a lot to defuse some of my unease with this running thread but. it was still there and i was still a little [oh boy.gif] about it.

anyway so now i'm knee-deep in a fic about That.

overall it was spectacular, i really enjoyed it. knocked out of the park episode thank you so much.

i have many more discrete thoughts but i have to clip it here my keyboard is starting to lag lmaoooo

[fleet-off]

get to know me ask game

tagged by @liyazaki mor my beloved <3 thanks, dear!

RULES: bold the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile (she smiles, she bounces on her toes, she puts her hands on her cheeks like an excited child...) // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES & TALENTS

I play a sport (used to fence, swim, and run cross-country) // I can play an instrument (I'm a maestro on the kazoo! 😜 out of practice on piano/flute too) // I am artistic // I know more than one language (someone has a special interest) // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // ✨I have a crush✨// I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years // my parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days (yesss let me stand in the downpour) // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean (guess who went to the aquarium yesterday and got to touch a giant isopod and then went whalewatching today for humpbacks guess guess guess!!) // I enjoy hiking on nature paths (loved it when my body let me) // autumn is my favorite season

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love (I believe the truest loves are unfated, multitudinous, ephemeral, effortful, worthwhile...) // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs (living with my mom, our combined forces are two dogs and three cats!)

no-pressure tagging in @misspoetree @5yuq @saturnskyline @no1petesimp @suzteel @imminentinertia @raksh-writes @theflowergirl @rainbowcolored7 @colourme-feral and anyone else who'd like!

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 53: Afterlife- Five Finger Death Punch

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter warnings: Death, exploitation of the clones, violent racism against clones, violence

Translations: cyar'ika: sweetheart Cyare: beloved vod: brother ram'ser: sniper buir: mother/father ba'voduse: aunts/uncles shebs: ass ad'ika: little one ba'buir: grandmother/grandfather

Previous Chapter:

Next Chapter:

There were more stormtroopers and less clones now. As much as he'd detested working with regs, Crosshair had to admit that the familiarity was missed. He waited outside a transport for his new commanding officer, leaning on his rifle with his helmet off.

"They're a lot more open now. About hating clones." Mayrin, his ever present shadow that nobody else could seem to see, leaned against the ship next to him. "I dunno why you put up with it."

Crosshair hmphed in her direction, adjusting his toothpick. "Orders are orders."

"Yeah, yeah. Dumb orders." She rolled her eyes, watching a few older regs being led off for their unhappy forced retirement. "They're being thrown away, and those guys don't have anywhere to go. You do. All you have to do is comm her. She'd come back for you."

Crosshair ignored her, narrowing his eyes. She was talking about Miria, of course. She brought the Jedi and the Batch up every time she spoke to him, like she knew them as well as he used to. Combine that with the snippets of her voice he kept hearing, and her appearance in his dreams… "You don't even know her."

"Yes I do."

Before he could snap, a snub-nosed nat born walked up. "CT-9904? I am Lieutenant Nolan… You're out of uniform."

Crosshair quickly stuck his helmet on. Behind him, a couple of the remaining regs were laughing about finally getting back into a combat mission. Nolan sneered. "More clones."

"Problem, sir?"

"I don't like used equipment." 

Nolan walked past him into the transport with a contingency of stormtroopers. Crosshair hissed quietly. 

"See what I mean? They don't like clones, just because you're clones." Mayrin grumbled. "He'll throw you away the first chance he gets, and the Empire will give him a medal for it."

"Shut up." Crosshair grabbed his gun roughly and stomped up the transport ramp. Fucking hell, this kid…

Barton-4 was cold and bleak, and Crosshair wished it didn't remind him of Kaller. He already hated this place, even before the chill seeped into his armor. 

Miria would hate this place. She hates the snow. 

He wasn't supposed to give a shit about what she hated, but the thought lingered stubbornly in the stark white of the landscape. She'd wrinkle her adorable button nose and pull her robes closer at the first icy breeze, taking a step closer to him. 

"You okay, cyar'ika?"

"Yes. It just… reminds me of Illum. I'm not overly fond of snow."

"You sure you're up for this?"

"Yes, my darling. I can do it."

A bedraggled and tired looking clone led then into the facility, which seemed all but abandoned. There were only three troopers remaining from the garrison. 

Nolan seemed determined to be as much of a pain in the ass as possible. "This outpost is disgustingly under-guarded. Where are your men?"

"Dead. Hexx, Veech, and I are all that's left. Barely enough to maintain a perimeter." The commander shrugged. He was bearded, his armor covered in scraps of cloth to maintain some warmth. "You must be our reinforcements. We expected you thirty seven rotations ago. You're late."

"The Empire operates on its own schedule, not yours. You will address me with respect, clone." Nolan sneered.

The commander glanced at the rows of clone helmets resting on crates around them, a memorial of the brothers he'd lost. "In my experience, respect is earned."

Nolan huffed and walked off to inspect the rest of the facility. The Commander sighed, shaking his head before looking at Crosshair. "Name's Mayday."

"Crosshair." The sniper usually wouldn't waste time with formalities, or bother getting friendly with regs. But months of crippling loneliness had a way of worming through his guard in the way a lifetime on Kamino had opened him up to Miria. He was beginning to suspect nothing was going to stop him from seeing her in every single moment, no matter how far she was. 

Is that really so bad? I… miss her. 

Mayday looked at him curiously. "You know the lieutenant well?"

"For about two hours."

The commander huffed. "C'mon. I'll give you the lay of the land." They headed out into the snow. 

"What happened to your men?" Crosshair asked. 

"Raiders, insurgents after the cargo. We've been out here for a year with nothing." Mayday explained. 

"How'd they get around the sensors?" 

"The conditions have degraded our equipment. I requested replacements, but we never got anything." Mayday knocked on a pole lightly, the sensor light on it flickering. "Whatever is in those crates better be worth it."

Crosshair was startled. "You don't know what the cargo is?"

"No. Apparently it's above a clone trooper's pay grade." The bitter tone in Mayday's voice wasn't missed. "If you go to scout, don't go alone and don't go far. You'll freeze to death in your armor if something else doesn't kill you first. They'll like it, though." He pointed up at a circling ice-vulture. "Vicious creatures, but you can't help but admire them. They find a way to survive."

Crosshair glanced up at the circling creature searching for carrion. Keeping themselves alive by the death of others… a part of nature that all too suddenly felt oppressive on his skin. Why did it make him think of that moment on the platform, when Miria reached her burned hands out towards him? He'd been cruel, hadn't he? 

"I don't care what you believe, or what you want."

"I know. But… if you ever change your mind… you can always come home. As long as I'm alive, there's a place for you wherever I am…"

"You won't be for long, will you?"

He was no better than the vultures. He'd been willing to use her death to survive, to stand in the ashes of her slaughtered Order and his own brothers for a chance to be on a winning team. At least the vultures had no concept of right and wrong. What was he doing? 

He glanced to the side at a glimmer of purple and gold, Mayrin shimmering into existence behind Mayday. She gave him a meaningful look, the kind Miria used to give him right before one of her sweet- toned lectures about the value of life. The snow wasn't settling on her armor, she didn't seem cold. 

She's not a hallucination from a head injury. She's one of those Force visions, like Miria talked about…

Like she could hear his thought, the girl smirked. A crooked smile that crinkled around her eyes and mouth.

Before he could start trying to understand what the hell was happening, blaster fire came over Mayday's comm. "Raiders! I'll take west, you go east!"

The two clones split up, heading for the sound of fighting. Battle was at least a comfortable familiarity and Crosshair quickly scaled a watchtower to pick off the raiders. A snow skiff was racing away, not entirely out of range but probably a lost cause with the backup the driver had. So the sniper set his sights on a raider on foot, dropping his helmet scope over the one on his rifle. He'd just lined up when a flare of bright light from an explosion blinded him. 

"Fuck." He snatched off his helmet, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't see, his marksmanship was his defining feature and the onset of a sudden panic that it was useless threatened to snatch his concentration. 

If I can't make the shot, I'm useless. If I'm useless, I'm dead. The Empire won't give a damn about recovery. 

Manda fucking damn it. Mayrin had been right. Miria had been right. Even fucking Hunter had been right! He was never more than a number, and now he was stuck.

He managed to lean into his rifle and fire off a haphazard shot before taking a moment to crumple, rubbing his eyes. They hurt. Everything hurt. He wanted one thing he was never going to get back right now, and he didn't even know how to reach-

"Miria?" He whispered. "I know you can hear me." He repeated what she'd said the last time he'd heard her, when her voice was tight with anger and he could feel the ache of her clenched fists in his own.

Crosshair?!

"I'm sorry, cyare." He mumbled. "For all of it."

Where are you, love? Tell me where to find you.

"You're not coming here. They'll kill you." Crosshair struggled to his feet and headed towards where he'd shot, tracking the blood trail a wounded raider left behind. He could finish this, get Mayday and his men off this outpost before he took a step that he should have taken months ago on Kamino. "I'll… figure this out."

Crosshair. Where are you? 

Her voice was demanding. He'd never heard her sound so forceful… he kind of liked it. That was a voice he could follow orders from. "Doesn't matter. I'll find you." He slid down an embankment after the blood. "Just… wanted to say something first. Something you asked me to say when you started showing up in my fucking dreams."

Cross…

"I still love you."

The radiant warmth that spilled through the bond was a much-appreciated side effect of Miria's delight. Crosshair had a half mind to keep talking, ask her how she was and what she'd been doing, anything to keep hearing her voice. He'd never liked chat before, but it had been too damn long and she was so far away. He'd see her soon, he'd find her and make this entire disaster up to her somehow. 

Mayday slid into the tunnel behind him, startling Crosshair. "So this is how they got through our defenses."

"Looks like it." Crosshair wondered if Miria could hear what he did, because at the sound of the commander's voice she went silent. He almost felt a squeeze in his hand, like an assurance. 

He could still come home. 

They headed into the tunnel until they found the raider, dead against a rock. Mayday nudged him. "I don't know what bothers me more, that he's wearing armor scavenged from my men or that his cohorts left him here to rot."

"No point in carrying dead weight." Crosshair shrugged. He regretted the statement almost immediately, distantly recalling when Rex had decked him in the face for the same kind of callus comment about Echo. 

Mayday just eyed him. "Remind me not to die on your watch."

They crept further into the tunnel, guns up, when they both heard an ominous click. Crosshair froze, looking down. 

"Pressure mine." Mayday groaned.

"Can you disarm it?" Crosshair stared at his own foot on the triangular mine. If he lifted it, they were both dead. He was in no hurry to die now, not with so much at stake all of a sudden. 

"I'm no explosives expert, but I can try. Hold still." Mayday knelt by his feet with a small hammer and a couple L-brackets. "Sure wish I had the equipment for this." He started carefully tapping the brackets into the ice around the mine, not quite flush but enough to hold it down when Crosshair lifted his foot. "Guess it's just us left to look out for each other, huh? What unit were you in before?"

Crosshair’s defenses went up immediately. "Doesn't matter." He couldn't talk about them, as much as he'd like to have Wrecker’s expertise on the mine. He couldn't trust a reg… right? Then again, he was having to trust Mayday so he didn't explode right now. 

"Indulge me." Mayday kept working on another bracket. 

"... Clone Force 99." Crosshair finally murmured. "But they're gone."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Mayday sounded sincere. "I know what it's like."

Crosshair paused. He did, didn't he? He'd lost nearly every one of his squad, kept their helmets and remembered them. He was a reg, but the line between himself and the regs was blurred in the Empire. Maybe he could bring Mayday out of here, like Cody had tried to do for him. He'd fit in like Echo had… Miria would like him. It might even be novel to introduce her to his friend for once. 

"That should do it. Don't lift your foot yet, and when you do go nice and slow." Mayday picked up his helmet and started backing down behind some rock cover. 

"Not confident in your work?" Crosshair huffed.

"I'm confident. I'm just not stupid." Mayday smirked. "Nice and slow now."

Crosshair very carefully raised his foot, breathing out a silent prayer that if there was a divine or the Force or whatever, that it didn't let him come this far just to splatter all over a cave wall. 

Thankfully, it didn't blow. Mayday popped out from behind the rock, giving him a thumbs up. "Let's go back. I'm out of brackets."

They trudged back through the snow miserably, and Crosshair glanced up at the vultures converging on the cave. 

He had to finish this and get the fuck out of here.

Crosshair, beyond the shadow of a doubt, hated Lieutenant Nolan. Not only had he sent him and Mayday to try to recover stolen cargo, but he had refused to let any of his men come with them. It was just two clones on what was definitely a suicide mission. 

"Heard you 99 commandos had a Jedi. She go out in the order?" Mayday seemed to like difficult conversations, or maybe he just wanted Crosshair to think. As comfortable as the sniper was with silence, this was a topic he had plenty to say on… if he could make himself do it. 

"No. She… survived. We were on Kaller." He looked at his rifle. It wasn't the same one he'd shot at her that day with, she was carrying that Firepuncher. He wondered if she thought about that. "She was special."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Smart, kind… started off shy and polite, but she opened up eventually."

"Sounds like she was more than your general." Mayday mused. 

"... she was. I introduced her to 99."

"Shit, really? I'm sorry, then. You said they were gone." Mayday looked immediately apologetic. There wasn't a clone alive who didn't at least know what that had meant, even if they were made after 99 died. 

"What about you?" Crosshair asked, deciding if he was going to make a friend he might as well use some of what she'd tried to teach him. 

"Nah. Wouldn't mind though… not much chance to meet somebody in the Empire though."

"What if you left?"

Mayday looked at him. "Like desertion?"

"That's not what I said."

Mayday laughed darkly. "My whole squad is dead over some cargo we weren't even allowed to look at. If you've got an exit plan, I'm in."

"Let's get this done then. I… might have an idea."

"Good thinking, vod."

They spotted a fire in the distance and Crosshair dropped his scope to look. Being called a brother again felt good, and quieted the screaming in his head that he was supposed to be an Imperial soldier. "Two guards at the entrance and more inside."

"Shouldn't be too hard for us." Mayday smirked, pulling an electro-stun grenade from his pocket. "On the way back, you tell me this plan."

"Deal."

Their approach was direct, stunning the guards and moving in for a fight. Mayday fought much like Echo, like any reg, making Crosshair’s tactics more effective. Yeah, he'd fit right in. Hunter might even have to give up command, which was going to piss him off and delight Crosshair.

Unfortunately, the raiders had explosives and were too stupid not to use them. A thermal went off, sending the cargo crates flying out of the open sided cavern and into the snow. Crosshair quickly finished off the last of them before Mayday could be overwhelmed, eying the cracked rock behind them. 

Mayday shook his head. "Let's get the cargo loaded up and we can take their skiff back."

Crosshair nodded and they slid down the icy cliffside to the crates. When he reached them, the sniper lifted a white helmet from the snow. "Gear?"

Mayday cursed. "Not a clone helmet, either." He picked up a chest plate. "Toys for their shiny new military, while we get the scraps. We were good soldiers. We followed orders… and for what?"

Crosshair didn't have an answer for that, and shook his head. "We've got to get out." He muttered. "Or we're dead." Maybe there was no reason to even return to the outpost, they could just wait out the Imperials until they took the cargo, then scrap together something to get off Barton-4. Maybe he could even call, like Mayrin said, and Miria would-

A deafening rumble above them caught both clones attention. Mayday paled. "Avalanche. Run!" 

The clones took off like bats out of hell, chased by the lethal tumble of snow and ice. There was a rock outcropping a couple hundred meters ahead, safety if they could make it. They were almost there, they were-

Mayday shoved Crosshair to the side as the ice caught up, sparing him being flattened by a huge and heavy pane of it. He heard bones crunch when it struck the commander, before he was buried alive in the frost.

"Ram'ser! Crosshair!" That was Mayrin's voice screaming for him. "Dig up or you're going to suffocate! I can't dig you out!"

Crosshair was dizzy, trying to figure out which way was up. The snow felt heaviest on his chest, so he struggled a punch that direction. His hand broke the frigid crust like a zombie from its grave, and he dragged his top half up. Mayrin was perched on the snow next to him. "...kid?"

"I'm sorry. I can't dig you out, but you've got to get up. Mayday's hurt and I can't help him either."

"I know." The cold wind in his face cleared his head a little and he brushed snow off his head and shivered. "You're… a Force spirit. Right?"

"You figured it out. Better late than never." She sighed. "Yeah. Get your legs under you. The snow is chest high."

Crosshair nodded, kicking the loose slush under him to get enough traction. When he finally got his spindly legs beneath him, he started wading through the snow. "Where is he?"

"By the rock. He got slammed into it, he's hurt." Mayrin was weightless on the snow, leaving no prints. 

Crosshair followed her, digging through the snow until his hands met plastoid. "Mayday! Mayday!" The commander couldn't die. He finally had a friend, somebody to rely on after he'd lost his squad. And Cody, after he'd stupidly pushed them away. 

The bearded clone coughed when Crosshair pulled him out of the slush. "G-go…" He mumbled. "I won't make it."

Crosshair looked at Mayrin, who gave him a weak smile, before pulling Mayday up. The wind was whipping up, they were about to be caught out in a blizzard. He had to find shelter, and get Mayday back to the outpost for medical attention. He'd put off his escape to save this life, because he couldn't imagine Miria ever forgiving him if he walked away now. 

He dragged Mayday's arm over his shoulder and pulled the wounded man out of the snow, heading for another rock ledge to shield them from the wind and sleet. He'd lost his helmet, but Mayday still had his. He tucked them into a shallow cave and leaned against Mayday to keep them both as warm as possible to wait it out. 

Mayday blacked out against his shoulder as the storm raged. Mayrin sat back on his other side, and though he knew there was no warmth to be found in her presence he did notice the wind seemed to break. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't know about this…" She whispered. "I'd have tried to warn you." Her teeth set on her bottom lip, big lavender eyes wide and nervous. Her shoulders hunched inward, hair hanging at her chin. When she finally closed her eyes, long silver lashes rested on her cheeks. 

Only, Crosshair didn't see Mayrin in the moment. He saw Miria Halcyon. 

"You're hers, aren't you?" He whispered. "Her daughter."

Mayrin opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling faintly. "Look a little harder. You're halfway there."

He examined her face for a long minute. The tanned skin around her eyes crinkled again when she smiled… tan skin and silver hair. Hadn't Miria once told him she found that particular combination attractive on him? "... you're my daughter." He breathed. It was so obvious now. Her eyes, his smile, dressed in armor with a star, moon, and crosshairs painted on the chest plate. The child they'd wanted before everything fell apart was sitting right next to him. 

"Of course. You're the only man she's ever loved." Mayrin laughed softly. "Mama figured it out a lot faster than you did, Buir."

"You've seen her?" He hardly dared hope for good news. 

"Yeah. You needed someone to yell at you, and she needed hope." Mayrin hugged her knees. "She's scared and angry, but she's okay. My ba'voduse are looking out for her. They all miss you."

Crosshair leaned back against the rock. "Good… I'll be back."

"Thank Manda. I'd like to be born already. This Force thing is a pain in the shebs."

Crosshair chuckled under his breath. "You've got my smart mouth."

"I dunno. Mama's pretty sassy lately too." Mayrin laughed. 

"Do I turn out to be a decent father?" Crosshair asked after a long minute of listening to the wind howl. He wasn't totally sure he was ready for the answer, but he had to know. 

"You're the best father." Mayrin assured him with one of her mother's kind looks. "Why do you think I came? Even before I'm born, I already love you."

Crosshair closed his eyes and nodded. "... I love you too, ad'ika." The endearment felt right. "Just one last question?"

"Anything."

"Do we give you a middle name? Miria said a lot of nat borns have them…" He'd never put much stock in the practice, except that he thought Miria's sounded nice. Adeline… he'd looked it up once. Miria meant "miracle", and Adeline was "beautiful inside and out". Her parents, whoever they were, knew what they were doing when they'd given it to her. He'd been an idiot to ever think anything else. To accuse that woman of being a traitor made no more sense than to insist hyperspace wasn't purple. 

Mayrin hugged her knees with a smile. "Nina. After my ba'buir, 99."

"Mayrin Nina Halcyon." The name left the sniper’s mouth like a prayer. "Does it mean anything? Mayrin?"

The girl giggled. "Beloved."

Crosshair nodded. That made perfect sense to him. "I can't wait to really meet you." 

"I'm going to sass you the whole time."

"You wouldn't be mine if you didn't."

It was a bolstered and viciously determined Crosshair that dragged Mayday back to the outpost. There was a goal now. He'd get Mayday medical attention, make his escape plan, and take the commander with him out of the Empire. He could do it. He had to, he had to get to Miria and their daughter. 

Nolan was having the cargo loaded when they limped onto the tarmac. "He… needs a medic…" Crosshair was exhausted, dropping to his knees and doing his best to lay Mayday down gently. The commander's helmet rolled off, revealing a pale face pinched with agony.

"You failed to recover the cargo, so your mission was a failure. He's outlived his use to the Empire." Nolan huffed.

Crosshair froze. No… no, he couldn't just watch Mayday die. Not after all this. Not after coming so far. 

Next to him, Mayday weakly squeezed his hand. The whole way back, Crosshair had been muttering to him about Miria and the Batch, promising him that he'd get to meet them. That they'd love him. "... tell 'em hi for me." He said breathlessly before his eyes rolled back and a weak gurgle petered out. Then the commander went limp.

Crosshair checked desperately for a pulse, but there was nothing. "You could have saved him." He gritted out. 

Nolan sneered. "I'm not wasting resources on something that's no use. And if you ever speak to me again with such disrespect, you'll join him. Now leave him and get back to work, clone. He was expendable, and so are you." He turned his back to Crosshair, storming off.

Crosshair looked at Mayday for a long minute, then up at a circling ice vulture. It'd land eventually, feast on Mayday when he was denied a burial by the Empire that had let him die for no reason but spite. Crosshair finally understood what Miria had been trying to tell him for years, that life was sacred and fragile. So easily snatched away, and the good always died young while the wicked survived to inflict themselves on the galaxy. 

Not this time. 

Before he could think it through, his fingers wrapped around one of Mayday's pistols. "Lieutenant?"

"What?" Nolan snapped, turning on his heel. 

"Don't!" Mayrin screeched, but no one could hear her except her to-be father. And Crosshair had had enough. 

Bang.

A hole of burning plasma punched through Nolan's chest, a shot Crosshair could never have missed no matter how tired he was. He crumpled like flimsi, Crosshair following him to the ground as his last energy was depleted. 

"Buir! Buir!" He could hear Mayrin yelling over the din of stormtroopers ordering him to drop the blaster, but everything was going hazy and he knew he was going to pass out. 

"Tell your mother… I tried to make it right." He mumbled before the rough duracrete under his cheek slipped away and he was unconscious. Maybe she'd be waiting in his dreams again, and he could tell her he was sorry himself. If they didn't execute him, he could. If they did…

Sorry kid. I didn't think it through, but I swear I tried…

He said he was coming home. He still loved her, he'd missed her… so what was this room? 

It was dim, but looked much like the research ship they'd found the Zillo in. Her sniper was laying on a table, limp and pale. Was he hurt?

"Darling?" Miria whispered, trying to touch his face when a door opened behind her. A woman in a lab coat passed right through her incorporeal figure to get to Crosshair, drawing something into a syringe as the clone opened his eyes and squinted. 

"Where am I…?"

"CT-9904, or do you prefer Crosshair?"

"What's going on?" He tried to sit up, eyes wide. The woman pushed him back down, bringing the syringe to his neck. 

"Cooperate, and you just might survive. Don't fight."

Crosshair didn't have the strength the struggle when the sedative flooded his system, going limp on the table again. "...M-miria…"

"Crosshair!"

"CROSSHAIR!" Miria sat upright in her bunk, barely managing not to slam her head into the bunk above her. Hunter rolled over in his bunk next to her, yawning. Tech's head popped out from above, ignoring Wrecker falling out of his own bed when he startled awake. 

"Another nightmare?" Tech looked sympathetic. 

"No." Miria clutched her heaving chest, trying to catch her breath. "No, something else. Something is wrong."

"Are you getting sick?" Hunter sat up. "I thought that thing on Thule was-"

"Not with me, Hunter." Her eyes were wide with poorly restrained terror. "Something is wrong with Crosshair."