#it is almost 2024 and I have not done that

[avifaunaa]

i tasted ash and knew [ it was you ] [ r.v. ] [ p.3 ]

Authors Note: Well, shit. Glad to see this garnered some attention and that you guys liked it 🫡 as per usual please keep an eye on the content warnings and take care of yourselves.

Some more useless history facts nobody wanted:

• Remedies for illnesses in the fifties were a mixture of at-home and rising industry cure-alls. Many people used sponge baths for fevers and hot water bottles for aches while taking their Asprin. It was an awkward middle ground of well-known techniques and modern medicine.

• Nail care was also becoming more popular in the fifties, as with everything in society now that a war was not a concern. In 1954 a dentist was the creator of the first fake / artificial nail since he was tired of his own nails breaking lmao. Most women took care of their own nails and painted them with practice, for the most part. Women also started reshaping their nails in the process of the upkeep!

• The fairs we know today and see as a sort of larger aspect of a season were a lot more deeply involved in the local communities back in the day. Fairs were used to bring many — or just one — communities together and often made a show of selling local goods by those who lived within the county it was held in. It had a large focus on the region’s agricultural culture as well and it wasn’t uncommon to see livestock at these events. This is how some fairs ended up being hosts to many beloved country events that go on today, like rodeos. The classic carnival rides we love were still used even then — but mostly had limited options that included Ferris wheels, bumper cars, the whip, and some games that may or may not still be found in today’s fairs!

• Cotton Candy was invented in 1897 by a dentist and a candy maker. There’s a joke in there somewhere.

• Funnel cake was brought over to the States by the Dutch as drechderkuche around 1879 and they themselves had gotten it after the dish spread in popularity across Europe after initially being dated back all the way to the medival worlds of the Persians known as zalabiyeh. Only in 1947 did it make a grand entrance to the carnival and fair life as a snack of wonder!

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rio’s really done it now. She’s created a monster of herself and broken her most important rule and revealed her lies to you in doing so: her inability to create life. Allegedly. Death becomes your dueling partner as all you can do is grapple for some semblance of control between her moments of appearance as she works double time to keep you — and now whatever she thinks grows inside of you — alive.

Content Warnings: Dark, so expect the usual — internalized homophobia and gender norm expectations in flashbacks, panic attacks, self-harm [ not graphic but it’s there ], angst, forced impregnation, misuse of magic [ Rio, always Rio ], manipulation, obsessive behavior, threats of violence [ R —> Rio ], Stockholm Syndrome taking effect, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

Word Count: ~5.2k

2024

You awoke with the curtains pulled open and the sun glaring across your face which really only added to the pounding in the front of your skull that welcomed you back to the world of the living.

Gods — it wasn’t just your head that pounded. Your entire body felt like a dump truck came through the house and just meandered over your unconscious body and left behind whatever was left of you.

The pain alone was almost enough to convince you to go back to sleep, to try and escape it longer and what you knew it would mean by getting up.

Because you remembered last night — down to what Rio had whispered to you with deadly promise and such conviction that it still was too much for you to think about right now.

You should have known better trying to kill Rio. You were smarter than that, most days. You knew to some extent how powerful she was and that you had no true capability to so much as give her a paper cut if she didn’t allow it.

You drew your arm from under you and rested your forehead against it, still facedown against the pillows and refusing to move from your position. That would be . . . It would be admitting a lot of things to yourself, never mind Rio.

The wetness on your skin is how you found out you were crying. Quiet tears, falling directly onto your arm before your brain could catch up with the severity of your emotions.

You dug your teeth into the skin of your arm to silence any noise that would dare try to leave your chest. These tears would have to come and go without trace, and this would be your only acknowledgment that they were ever there at all.

Your body shook only slightly as you willed your crying to end and just let the anguish and loneliness be your friends for this single moment before you had to return to this endless game of brutality with Rio.

When you could cry no more and you were sure you could breath without shuddering, you pulled your teeth from your arm and assessed the damage.

You had dug in deep enough to bruise — it was already turning red and had left deep tracks, unforgiving in the proof of your inability to hold your emotions in.

You wipes the wetness from your arm and did not wince when a throb from touching the mark was returned. It was a small price to pay, and it would be a good grounding-point to slip out of bed.

At least your emotions were back to normal. . . They were regulating now.

That’s what you told yourself as you sat at the edge of the bed and stared at the plants on the shelves across from you on the wall.

The ache between your legs that matches the one deep in your chest beyond flesh and bone were ones that you knew well — from your previous marriage and then with Rio. Both with positive and negative connotations attached — at first.

Now you weren’t sure there was anything left to recover from those feelings. Not when you could reach up to your neck and practically touch the hum of magic that kept you tethered to her.

You flexed your fingers and dug them into the mattress as you tried to even your breaths again. The tears were long gone, but the breathing —

She took, took, and took and never once thought that she was taking. She only cared what it did for her and how it made her happy, to appease her immortality? The despair it brought with her to be alone so long?

You hated that it was you.

You used to love that it was you.

But the thing with Rio is that her affections are animalistic and not grounded in how it will hurt everyone else. You realized that when she collared you the first time and you had to escape under the cover of night and get the magic removed quietly and quickly.

She is selfless in her selfishness and that is her most dangerous attribute. A patient hunter who knows the game after a long time playing it.

“Mow.”

Billy was sitting in front of you, just inches away with intense eyes and his fluffy tail curled at his paws. He seemed almost curious.

You unclenched your fingers from the sheets and reached out, offering a hand passively.

He blinked at you, owlish, then stood and rubbed his head against the stretched hand and down your arm. Loud purrs soon filled the quiet surroundings and his tail vibrated as he chirped at you.

“Are you hungry?” you asked him, watching his flank ripple as your fingers ran through it. Your mind was quickly able to release despairing thoughts and the pit that sought to drag you deep.

A loud mrow was your response and you took that as an initiative to stand and find something comfortable to wear and pointedly ignore the pain left behind by Rio and ignore the fact that it was as though she was never there at all.

1954

You hid upstairs long after Rio had returned from her job. You folded laundry and ironed some, then refolded others again. When that was done and you couldn’t really make an excuse to just constantly fold laundry repeatedly, you locked yourself in the bathroom you had been using and decided to “organize”.

You had heard her inquiring calls from downstairs and had chosen to ignore them in hopes she would . . . Well, you weren’t entirely sure. Your mother’s news had been unsettling and left a sour taste in your mouth.

Why did you have so many lipsticks, now? You had five in your palm and three on the ground where you sat on your knees. They were in varying shades of reds and pinks and relatively new — all from Rio. She sometimes liked to bring you gifts from the store.

Did you really care how many you had? Did it matter?

Your mother said Rio was never married — no records of it were recorded in the archives, no official obituary to be found under the name Vidal. You supposed she could have returned to using her maiden name . . . But —

“Angel?” A rap to the door shook you out of your thoughts and the lipsticks clattered to the floor.

“Shoot,” you murmured and began to scoop all of them up hastily, “h-hang on, Rio. I’ll be just a moment.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart, really. I was just concerned when you didn’t come to see me when I got home.”

You stacked everything back into place and lifted the container before setting it back into the medicine cabinet-mirror duo and shutting it. Your reflection startled you.

You had regained some flush to your cheeks and a light to your eyes after the death of your husband — even you could see it without it being pointed out. Nobody did, though. It would’ve meant implying something — something that was never meant to be discussed in the open.

But even as you stared at yourself you could hardly believe the difference that you found in your reflection.

“. . . Sweetheart?” Rio prodded from behind the door, tone gentle but more firm.

“I’m sorry, Rio.” You pushed off the sink and unlocked the door, swinging it open and smiling at her. “I haven’t been myself today. I think I’m just a little under the weather.”

She softens and steps closer to you, eyes roaming over you. The inspection felt intimate and you shelved the way it made you feel and reminded yourself that those feelings aren’t natural . . . And you were just a mess in general.

She seemed to be satisfied with whatever she found and leaned against the doorway. “You should’ve called me. Maybe I could’ve brought something home — heated lemonade is all the rage for colds right now.” She rubbed her hands together.

You smiled meekly. “That’s sweet, thank you, but it really only started when — oh, perhaps after I left lunch with Mother.”

She tilted her head, a black strand of hair floating from her updo. “Oh I remember you telling me you were meeting up with her. I’m glad you did — it was a beautiful day.”

You looked away from her and fiddled with your fingernails. Once nervously bitten and torn, now kept well-managed under Rio’s careful eye and money as she ordered you to a woman in town who knew how to do them from her home. You brought your own polish, but she did well with keeping them intact for you.

“It was a good lunch,” you answered carefully. “She — my mother has my best interests at heart.”

“Of course she does,” Rio agreed easily, pushing off the doorway and considering you with that gentle look of hers. “Did something . . . Did you two talk about something difficult?”

You didn’t immediately answer because you weren’t sure you wanted to go down this road with the other woman, in truth. She had been so helpful and the shame that filled you for feeling so useless and meek coiled tight inside of you.

But somehow you found yourself telling her anyway, without considering how you wanted to word it, “We talked about . . . My husband. Settling his affairs, mostly. Making sure I won’t see trouble down the road.”

Rio relaxed slightly as she eyed you. “That’s good, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have been so distressed during that period if I’d had my mother to help me.” She smiled a little, her silent support.

But if your mother was right in that Rio never had a husband — much less a husband that died in the war — then why would she be going through all of this trouble? How did she manage to make you feel so less alone in the agony you’ve been clawing your way out of?

“She’s been wonderful,” you say to her, reaching up to fidget with an earring. Her eyes followed the movement with hawk-like observance.

“Anything else that seems to be on your mind, angel?” Her head tilted slightly, curious and full of wonder. Like she was having a hard time getting a read on you — and maybe she was. Your moods weren’t subject to change so often and this one in particular was rare after moving with her.

“No, no just that.” You released the earring and smiled at her fully, returning to the present to be with Rio fully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t downstairs to greet you. I just got so caught up in finishing some things up here. I have so much lipstick, Rio . . .”

Her gaze drifted to the cabinet thoughtfully then slipped back to you. “Put some on — and dress somewhat warm,” she finally told you, unstrapping the straps that hooked over her shoulders to her pants. “Something pretty for me.”

Your cheeks heated even as you frowned at her. “What ever for? It’s such a waste to use when we’re not going anywhere.”

Rio chuckled. “Angel, we are going somewhere. The fair’s in town, remember? You’ve been eyeing the newspaper article on it all week.”

You brightened considerably in front of her, darting forward to grasp her arm. “Really? We’re going to the fair? You’re sure?”

The black-haired woman grinned down at you, tilting your chin up with a finger, “Very sure — if you can get ready before the field fills up on parking.”

You nodded rapidly and pulled back, filled with a sudden renewed vigor. “Oh I have the perfect scarf I’ve been waiting to match with that pair of pants you got me. The ones with red stripes.”

“You’ll look beautiful, I’m sure.” Rio winked at you and you made a point to ignore the weird fluttery feeling that crossed your chest at the action.

You’d felt that once — an old boyfriend who kissed you under the stars on top of his brand new Chevrolet before he returned you home and made sure to leave some of those stars in your eyes.

You’d married that boy once upon a time, and it ended up nearly destroying you later.

Rio left you to get changed and you busied yourself with finding the perfect outfit for such an outing. It was chilly outside during the day and so you expected it to be even more so overnight. It wouldn’t be wise to go out without layers, even if you planned on some festive rides to warm you up.

Oh and you so hoped they had spiced apple cider that they kept warmed at the stalls like they’ve been doing in the recent years. The drink was dangerously addictive and you indulged in the past when your husband inclined to go with you to the fairs. It always left a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest after having a cup.

You were just pinching the scarf carefully into position when Rio reappeared. She hadn’t changed completely from her work attire, but she did cozy up. She made no move to disguise roaming eyes.

“Hmm I worry for the wandering gazes I may have to hide you from tonight,” she muses lazily.

You despised the way she managed to made you feel things a woman should never feel from another of her gender — despised that you were drawn to the way she somehow carried herself like she owned the world and could protect you from its’ angry realties. Despised the way she wasn’t a man and therefor kissing her is not allowed, not desired.

You despised how you were forced to feel the disgust in your stomach at how heavy with want it left you when you saw her and found what you could never give your husband.

“Perhaps I will be able to catch the eye of a wealthy man,” you got out, refusing to meet her eyes and instead finding your own in the mirror. “And you will surely catch the finest of attentions. You could have anyone you wanted and not blink before it was in your hands.”

Rio hummed at you. The footsteps on the flooring creaked until she was still behind you, chin just brushing over your shoulder as her eyes forced yours to meet together in the mirror. You were trapped between her and the sink, unable to escaped unless she willed it.

Or maybe you just made no effort to try.

“You speak as though I yearn for another man to warm my bed,” the black-haired woman crooned lowly, ruby red lips twisting upwards mockingly, “to handle my finances and give me the world.”

“Surely every woman wants that — wouldn’t you get tired of working?” you asked her boldly despite the tremble that threatened to shake you down. She was so close and you feared she would hear your heart’s cries if she got any further.

“Angel,” she started, the same tone, eyes becoming mischievous and glittering under the light above, “why would I seek out that which I want from a man when I can just get it myself?”

Your throat constricted and for a moment there was a terrible feeling you were a prey to a dangerous, deadly predator.

Rio. This was Rio — your only friend, the woman who shielded you when you nearly crumbled under the weight of the world when you realized what being a woman without a husband meant.

“I just — Rio?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you have any pictures of him?” you asked as you fought off the urge to sink into her from where you held onto the surface like a lifeline. “Your . . . Your husband. You’ve not told me his name, and you don’t even have photos of him.”

Her fingers reached up to capture a stray wisp of your hair that had fallen from the position you’d had it in. She held it delicately and observed it, wrapping it around her pale finger.

“Rio?”

She tugged suddenly and it left a minor sting when she did. Then she released it, tucking it behind your ear with a gentleness opposite of the previous action.

“His name and face live in the past and I seek to march into the future,” she finally told you, however no warmth remained in her voice. Only clear, concrete assurance. “Having either in my present keeps me from which I aim to go, so I decided a while ago to put him to rest for good.”

She moved away from you in order to give you some space and tucked a hand into one of her pockets. “Don’t take too long, Angel. I want to ride the Ferris Wheel with you while the stars are bright.”

She was gone and now alone, you tried to process what she laid before you but found that nothing was answered when you asked her those questions.

2024

You peeled open a can of wet food and scraped it into the fancy cat bowl Rio had conjured up. The little shit had dry food still full, but seemed to think he needed the good stuff two times a day.

Leaving him to scarf down his breakfast, you opened the French doors in the dining room. The dining room which, by looks of it, had been meticulously put back together as though you and Rio hadn’t tried to rip one another to shreds.

You weren’t entirely positive you could claim much of the damage anymore, though, looking back. You had the human ability to shove, break, and throw but Rio was above that in ways that made your predator senses switch into the brain of prey. It made you think of a time you saw a program — a lynx playing with its prey right before it decided to kill it.

Rio had been playing with you — perhaps leaking some frustration without realizing it. But you were stupid to believe that you could have the upper hand in any regard.

Your hand drifted up to your neck and rested there as the hum from the magic collar vibrates against your fingers, a warning that you were touching the invisible but powerful mechanism that kept you caged to this place. To her.

The bird feeders outside caught your attention from the open doors. Ten birds of varying colors, chirping happily and fluttering about as they picked their way around the feeders you filled the day before.

Was this to be your life now?

What did Rio intend to tell you about the status of your job? It wasn’t . . . It wasn’t like you adored it but it kept you busy, you sort of enjoyed it on some days.

A huff greeted you to your right.

Your eyes drifted to the source of the sound and knew it wasn’t Billy — who felt he was too sophisticated for such a noise and was still tinkering about in the kitchen with his bow and bell collar.

No — no, this was not him.

Instead a new object has been tucked into the corner of the dining room. A large, fluffy dog bed of a soft brown coloring and cream innards.

The source of the sound was the sleek looking canine laying there, head on paws and eyes watching you closely.

“A dog,” you said aloud as the two of you stared at each other. He was a light brown with black markings on his long legs and face. Pointed ears and a thin, long tail.

You’ve seen these dogs before — you knew they were used mostly in the military and police force. Similar to the German Shepard but smaller and leaner.

She got you a fucking protection dog — and she did it to taunt you. Because she knows not even the most trained, intelligent dog will be able to keep her from.

“Okay.” You got to your knees and the sun soaked into your body from doorway. The dog watched you. You watched him. He already had a thick leather collar with tags on it and it made you wonder if, like you and possibly Billy, she took him too. “Who are you?”

He didn’t respond, of course.

You got back to your feet and hesitantly made your way over. He lifted his head to watch you until you bent down next to him and carefully scratched behind his ears. He seemed to like it, and so you flipped his tag to read his name. TOMMY was stamped into the gold metal.

“She did you an injustice with that name,” you told Tommy, but kept petting him anyways. He sighed.

You eventually left Tommy alone to nap and went out to sit in the garden, your heart heavier now. The way she used things as a way to mock you was like an extra knife digging deeper and deeper each time she added a new aspect.

You sit for a while then make some coffee and down some plain toast to fight the nausea. You hated how lonely the house you were caged to felt but refused to break and call out for Rio to end the feeling.

You would bear it rather than face her and yourself and the night before. It was all too much and it would explode eventually, with angry sobs and violence like it always did.

But until she forced you out of your self-induced exile of silence and singularity, you would pretend like you’ve handled it and it’s over.

Even if it would never be over.

Rio heard naught when she returned from her duties that night. The lights were on but there was a lack of cooking to be found. None of the smells that brought her a great deal of comfort when you were behind the stove, no warm smile to greet her, and certainly no kiss to the cheek or anywhere else.

“Angel?” she called out, but was only greeted by the dark and watchful eyes in the kitchen’s entryway by the animal she had bestowed upon you before leaving that morning.

He stood stock still and regarded her with a type of cunning that almost made her wonder if she should’ve gone with a dumber breed to avoid issue. His hackles were raised down his spine and a low, vibrating growl was echoing through his chest.

Rio simply stared back at him. “I brought you into this house, creature,” she told him, continuing closer. “Angel please call off the dog.”

“No.”

Ah, so you were just feet away as suspected. A small grin pulled at the corners of Rio’s lips as she came to a stop just inches from the stiff dog. His tail was as rigged as the rest of him — and though Rio didn’t know dog language relatively well, she knew the universal language for “I do not fucking like you.”

“I don’t want to have to take him away after giving him to you so soon, my sweet,” Rio started sweetly, fingers reaching out to the curled lips of Tommy. Her tone hardened, “But I will if you can’t keep him in line.”

There wasn’t a reaction given to her in the first few seconds after she spoke, and the dog had become more hostile in those seconds. Rio was ready to snap him into another room and use that fear when she heard a soft, call.

“Tommy, come.”

Like a flipped switch and without any effort the dog seemed to rear away from Rio as quickly as he had been ready to try and maul the witch. He trotted back into the kitchen and so the pale figure followed.

He curled at your feet where you were rewarding him with slices of raw meat mixed in a metal bowl, prepped ones seemingly laid out for burgers ready to be grilled at any point.

Tommy took the offered pieces carefully from your fingers as you locked gazes with Rio.

“I see you two have bonded once you’ve made your introductions,” Rio concurred as she opened the refrigerator and looked through the contents. All of the bear she had to magic back in was once again gone.

Rebellious, angry little thing you were. It didn’t matter. She waved her hand and a cold beer appeared between her fingers instantly.

“Is there never consequences for what you do with that? you asked her quietly from across the room.

“Mm.” She slowly makes her way over to you, a twinkle of something dark and insidious covering her features. “There’s a consequence in everything of this universe, Angel. If you tie your shoes the wrong way, it can have a massive impact on someone else in another world.”

“Then why the fuck do you be so careless? I never asked — not before when I thought I could love you. But now that I know there’s always a price to the things we do . . . Why?”

The anger, the rage she fell so deeply for — she felt the fire in her chest when she saw a flicker of it again. “Because I can,” she told you simply, lifting the bottle to her lips. “I can, so I did. I have the opportunity and why would I leave it untouched?”

Your hands slammed on the table. “Because it means for every day I get to live someone else dies early!”

Rio rolled her eyes. “Is that what this is about? How long do you plan on mourning over the ones you never know about that take your place? They’re nameless to you and can’t bring the guilt that bears your name.”

“Because it’s my life, Rio,” you bit out. She looked closer and realized you had been crying, “and my ticket was punched a very long time ago but for some reason you won’t take it. You refuse my entry every damn time, and then you play with magic and ignore that it has its own prices and can—“ you suddenly pressed fingers to the bridge of your nose and breathed out shallowly.

Rio removed the rim of the glass from her lips, taking care to observe your actions. You stood without saying a word, eyes closed, as you experienced whatever it is went through your body while Rio simply watched.

And smiled.

1954

The music and the lights were overwhelming in the best of ways. There was so much joy to be found and the giggles of children darting through the crowds covered in cotton candy and fisting sacks of what you assumed to be allowances to go and play games.

You kept a polite distance from Rio despite the pestering urge to hold her hand and lean into her for warmth during the cold night.

You wished you could be a couple — but it simply wasn’t possible. So you maintained your space and pointed out stalls to stop at as she kept an unmoving look of amusement on her face.

You were elbow-deep in overly powdered dish that you’ve never tried — colorfully labelled the Funnel Cake — and you found that it was almost on par with your apple cider drinks you adored so. Rio seemed fascinated with it as well and the two of you shared the one you bought.

You did find the cider you so sought and made Rio get one too, even after she complained of having a full stomach.

“It’s rather good, Rio,” you begged as the two of you stood in line. “If you don’t like it, I’ll just drink your share.”

She arched one perfectly sculpted brow at you as a smile rose to greet you. “Oh, you will will you?” she asked.

The shine in your eyes must have been answer enough, because she ordered two of the drinks but ended up finishing half of it.

She seemed to enjoy it, but relinquished it to you on the claims that she couldn’t possibly fill her stomach any longer.

“More for me,” you commented like you’d gotten away with stealing something valuable. Rio barked out a laugh as her arm brushed against yours.

It was entirely too true that right now, you had no cares about how close she was. You were having fun with her and she with you as you talked and drank cider.

She won a little bottle game that was 50¢ a turn and she didn’t have to spend another quarter in order to fetch you a duck you had pointed out.

“How did you do that so well?” you asked her, beaming as you held the stuffed toy like gold. “I’ve seen children run screaming from their parents once they emptied their pockets.”

Rio tapped her temple. “All in the head, Angel. I wanted to win, so I won.”

“If only it were that easy!”

She simply smiled those red lips at you and pulled you toward the Ferris Wheel. The stars had become as bright as they could be while the fair was open and she wasted no time in deciding on what she wanted to finish it off with.

“Do you fear heights?” she asked you as she waited with two quarters in hand, back of the line.

“No,” you said, and you liked to think you were right in your belief. “No, I don’t think so. Not if I feel like there’s not a reason to be afraid of them.”

If you hadn’t been so focused on the way the wheel was spinning with its flashing lights, you might have been able to catch how Rio seemed to think over your words. But as quickly as the line went, so did your conversations and laughter.

The teenager in a red and white striped shirt waited expectantly at the till as Rio uncapped her hand over his to drop the two coins into his palm.

He led you both through the gate blocking access to the ride and waited for the Wheel to stop until a car came down and emptied the contents of its seats. Then he hastily ushered you in and pulled down the security bar.

“Hands and feet inside, no wiggling around,” he said with a sigh. “Enjoy the ride.”

Rio was startlingly quiet on the way up as she and you both took in the view. It was truly breathtaking -- and you could both see Westview in all it's small twinkly lights the higher up you rose.

Rio nudged you with her wrist. "I can see the house."

"You cannot," you scoffed at her, leaning into her to try and get the same view as she was.

Before you realized what was happening, an arm was being wrapped around your shoulders and you were being tugged close.

"Rio." You tried to tug away from her, a small swell of panic rising as you glanced around. You were close to reaching the top of the ride and the closest to the stars you would ever be for the first time. "Rio, the people above us can see."

"They can't," the older woman murmured as she bent her neck down to look at you, squeezing your hip reassuringly. "I wouldn't let them. It is just us."

"The people below . . ." you glanced down, wondering if the other cars would be able to see and hear you.

"Stop." She lifted your face to yours and gave you the softest of expressions. "Hey. It's okay."

And then she leaned down to kiss you.

Rio and Reader will return in Part 4

PART FOUR

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Finally, slowly getting to the new story of this. “Creator” that old cringe one has been moved to my Ao3, and this one? Is going to be true. I remember stating somewhere in March-April 2024? That I was going to create them anew, and well… here’s the start of it.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Death, Violence.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| {Chapter I}

His nose crinkles up in disgust beneath his helmet at the plains around him. His form simply standing in the middle of the wheat fields that extends a couple of acres as they shutter at the slight, midnight breeze this… soil of this plant he finds himself on. Its moon shining proudly in the sky, sending a bright shimmer over the grays and silvers of his armor.

It wasn’t that he was revolted by the planet itself, it looked like a healthy, prosperous one: a paradise planet perhaps, but it was just the baselines on it. The smell of sin and chaos that’s coats the crust and mantle of the planet, the core yet untouched. He can smell and sense, strange, whisking scents of… others. Other Astartes of many kinds within the current of the rivers, winds and the warp. He can feel the chaos at play! The grace of The Emperor has set him on a solo conquest! To rid of the filth that plagues this infringed planet.

He moves, the weight of himself and his armor crunching the stems of wheat beneath him. Creating astartes-like tracks that he does nought care of. If anything, he’s up to the challenge of anything that dares to defy him: A knight of the Emperor. An executioner to those who provoke the resolve of the Emperors grace, and this planet? Would be no stranger for him to finish off like the many others he has with his brethren.

Particularly, he heads for the little home at the bottom of the wheat hill. Warm lights coming from the few windows it has. A small, human-like shadow moving from between them, and it almost amuses him of how oblivious some creatures can be when he has gotten so close to the home, that his own frame blocks a whole window of the building. The bright, ice of his visors peeking through the glass before disappearing into the dark.

He hears the slight shift in their heart, and how their mind thinks. Their subconscious telling them something is off, yet they continue to ignore the instinctual warning, further amusing him. This planet was riddled with chaos, but these baselines have no clue about it? Do they ignore it? Is their faith set on something? Someone? Was their faith set upon the chaos gods? Is that why this one moves as if they have no atrocities to worry about? Sure, it’s a paradise-looking planet, but one would be foolish to look so… comfortable as wars are fought beyond the exosphere, and the system of the planet. Having yet to swarm to this one.

He studies this baseline for a moment. Feeling the blandness of this human with his psychic, meaning they were definitely not a Psyker themselves. His helmet moving between windows to get a good look at the baseline that doesn’t cower to its own instincts. Something that it should have done the moment their subconscious was telling them to book it out of the home, not they would get that far…

There is nothing, not a detail that is special about this common human, however. Only their complete obliviousness or ignorance stirring within them. Avoiding what dangers it was- is in. Trying to live the life of peace at the cost of being unsuspecting; lonely- He hears the baselines’ breath hitch before they let out a terror filled screech that goes through the poor quality of the home.

Well, almost lonely.

He moves again, around the house. Going to stand where the baseline has moved to protect them from hidden dangers like a child. Their figure hunched in a corner of a certain room that he has rather good access to despite being outside. His right gauntlet flexing slightly as he listens to the fearful, rambling thoughts of the human. ‘Oh god, oh god, oh god… W-what happened to my marine? Should I call this up? What would have…’

‘My marine’ He mentally repeats to himself, musing at the words. No one owns a marine but this little baseline was the only thing on that chaos marines mind while struggling in his grasp. His Nemesis Force Sword slowly piercing through their chest piece. Playing with his food, not that he doesn’t it many times, but it has got him a lot more information out of the Marine than usual. It was no wonder the Marine had turned to chaos. They were too weak: physically and mentally. They couldn’t keep their mind off their… what did the Marine think of? Bond? Ah, yes… bonded. Couldn’t keep their mind off their bonded.

It was unfortunate, really. Was the chaos weakened on this planet? So feasible the marine wanted a life with a baseline? It almost makes him laugh at the absurdity of it. A marine, having a relationship with a baseline. No less a chaos one, but it does beg the question… what made that chaos marine so low? He knows the marine hasn’t prayed to the symbols of chaos in a while with how… calm and vulnerable the Marine looked before he places his body somewhere within the home of the baseline. A… nest? He recalls the marine thinking before he finalized his breaths.

‘P-Please, whatever gods are o-out there…’ His mind goes back to the now pleading baseline that curls around themselves just beyond the exterior wall. A quiet hum leaving him as he tilts his helmet at their prayers to some random gods, not The Emperor. That could mean trouble if, he wasn’t looking for it. The Emperor had sent him on a mission of his own. He shall finish it with the faith of him within him. Not with whoever the baseline was praying for. Though, he won’t be apposed of finishing things off a lot quicker with their repeated summons of their dead marine back. Maybe that will bring in more chaos for him to conquer for the Emperor?

He moves his arm back before launching in forward. His gauntlets penetrating through the poor building with ease. Splinters flying everywhere and bouncing off his armor while a choked scream greets his ears. His armored fingers squishing around something fleshy. A loud crack sounding out, and he waits a second before slowly pulling out. His fingers still grasped around the fleshy mass. Digging out yet another body he has slain for the Emperors’ grace.

He hums again, feeling rather… pleased with his work. His eyes looking over the mauled body in his hands: a young male it looks like… Yet he still throws the carcass to the side, disregarding of it. His helmet once more tilting to the left then to the right, trying to make out a… another voice? Was he wrong of just one person being in the house? No, he is not that foolish… Was it a decoy then? No… this one feels… warm. Why did it feel warm?

“You really want me to play “Power Washing simulator��,” huh? What's so exiting about that game? Don’t you just… wash stuff? Like in its title?”

Your voice… it brings a certain feeling over him. It makes him pause, stutter in his duty. Something he hadn’t thought possible… Were… were you some chaos for him to overcome? Is this what the Emperor sent him here for? To rid you of the galaxy? Where you the test to his faith that he needs to overthrow? Wait, he doesn’t like to think of you that way, to slay you. No! He must! That is not the faith of The Emperor! Y-You were a testament of his faith to him!

“Fine, fine! You win; I’ll play this simulator that you speak so highly of. Don’t be offended if i get bored of it and switch it up.”

He finds himself inside of the home. Pushing through the hole he made from killing off that another baseline and looking down at some bright box connected to the wall. You speak like… compliance… You backed down upon something. A daemon doesn’t do that often… No… you were his testament. You were something he needs to conquer. You restrict him of so…

“Alright, let's do this… shoe house. This honestly doesn’t look like a good house to live in, nor does it look stable, chat. Maybe a witch lives here?”

Oh, but your voice. The way you talk. The way you look. How you dress. It… It strangely pleases him more than what a battle to the Emperor could. His eyes beneath his helmet ranking over your digital figure over and over again, gaining any detail shown possible to him. You would make a good serf, but it also seems like you are a person of certain power with the way you are talking to other… people from somewhere. Were you a noble? An entertainer?

He blinks, and suddenly the video of you is over. Did he really just- He shakes his helmet. He cannot be enraptured with you. You test his faith like a sinner, something that was not easy for one to do to a being like him. Especially since you were a baseline or perceived yourself to be one. You- you were something that he needs to vanquish for he knows that he doesn’t? He will be under your influence.

In the meantime, he shall continue his duties to the Emperor. Restore his repentance; faith… That is if he can escape your popularity, and the shadows that follow you.

[mgu-h]

What are your top 3 moments of Max and Lando from 2024? A little late, but I’m quite curious lol

Or in general, what are your favorite moments of them of all time?

my chronological study is not yet caught up, so i can't really do 2024 justice, but i've covered a lot of ground from 2013 to early 2023, and there's just so many things that stand out!!! not just moments but like.. idk. whole parts of their lives. i'll check some dates {edit: and add 20 gifs and a video}, but otherwise, off the dome, my favorite moments lmao let's do this:

max's story about seeing lando driving his kart at 9yrs old, the small details about the location and lando's helmet that he remembered, the fondness in his tone of voice as he talked about it, and calling himself a day one fanboy of lando

there's this old old post on max's insta where he's just starting out, with lando commenting on it in a supportive or teasing way... just seeing how long they've been friends, all the footage of them karting, sharing podiums, and goofing off in tiny race suits together, it's not one moment that i love but the pool of shared experiences and competition

jumping forward in time a bit, that time max said that lando had taken care of him after he stopped racing and wasn't sure what to do, it's just important to me that max showed up just playing on lando's twitch first. lando opened up this whole path for him, ultimately hiring him, shaping the trajectory of the rest of his life

there's some deeply notable streaming early on in lando's house, a favorite being the absurd bathrobe tech support, with lando fresh out of the shower and all up in max's personal space. and then idk it's a small detail but there's times where max and lando are wearing the same glasses and i love that

i can't pick a favorite of the quadrant videos filmed in summer and fall 2021, there's so many deeply endearing and iconic moments, like the hot sauce video, the lie detector (big reaction), the pink 'how well do you know' video (max's absurdly fond tone of voice saying "useless" is my first memory of him, from years ago), the outtakes of the part of the elgato video where they kick niran out of their house

there's connor's august twitch stream from holiday with them all tipsy and topless and deeply tanned on a boat. lando hovering around max's back, making max smell his underarm when he complained. it reminds me of pics i saw of lando shirtless in a paddling pool which i assume were taken by max.

the way they were wearing each other's golf shirts on the course in that one fall golf stream, i think it was shortly after sochi. the whole recurring bit with them sharing a wardrobe, the "whose shoes are those?" "whose joggers are those? "whose hoodie is that?" bit, the fact that it kept going even after they moved apart

those key december 2021 streams, the loooong halo stream where chat called max both lando's dog and his wag. just the wild argument they had about max moving to monaco, with max saying lando'd get lonely, offering to be a house husband almost, and 'joking around' like 'he doesn't want me, we're done, etc..

then the sweet sad energy of the last stream in the house, where lando picks a fight about who's better at golf and uses his keyboard clicking to annoy max. for some reason i love this fight the most out of everything, i've listened to it dozens of times probably, i even transcribed it to see what the sentence length looked like before i started writing rpf. it's just like the perfect quintessence of their dynamic.

max showing up on the mclaren tiktok account in lando's hotel room in dubai the next month jan 2022, having gone on the trip with lando and his gf

quadrant leaving a small cardboard cutout of max in lando's office, after lando was a pest while max tried to plan the office remodel surprise for him. then lando using it to tease max, and lying about throwing it out, keeping it around, and still having it in 2025

the infamous and perfect moment in july where max covered up lando's head after the rally car passed by because lando fully didn't do it himself and max either saw that or knew that he wouldn't do it and that he needed to do it for him

lando being a dj on max's twitch, the sleepover vibes, the way they support him in his new hobby and validate him

max's 2022 singapore trip and the incredible tikok where lando answers the hotel door wearing the exact same clothes as max but in inverted colors, where he slaps max very hard on what looked like the inner thigh, where max bites his knuckle with nerves and is proud of lando's p4

[i've got the winter and spring content to go through in detail, i don't really know what happened here]

the march 2023 max twitch stream with lando in the blue hoodie (kitten, max smelling his underarm, lando losing his mind about a memory of max when he was drunk). i'm pretty sure in that stream, max's dad comes in and asks if lando is staying the night, in a way that communicates he's done it a hundred times before and is welcome to do it a hundred more

the april 2023 twitch streams where lando wanders around, laying with bare feet kicked up on the bed, massaging his back (each others' backs, max returns the favor), lint rolling himself. around this time P says on stream that max is lando's boyfriend, she also calls him his slave and labels what they share as an addiction(!!!)

i know they go to motogp together in the summer of this year, i remember the adorable almost kinda matching outfits. there's also that footage of max looking at lando asleep in that egg pod thing from around then too

[i don't really know yet if/what nortrell happened in late 2023]

then like, 2024, i have so much to catch up on, but i was aware of him by the end of the season. obviously the infamous post disaster races had that gentle parenting from max about eating and sleep while playing tarkov, which was lovely, and then the way max defended him at crucial parts of the season and like asked 'where's the backing' and got angry on his behalf was good too.

2025...... so much so far. the "you said my name so I know you're lying." the "stop fucking kissing her max and hurry the fuck up." connor's "his brother and his boyfriend" comment. the fact that i got jumpscared by max streaming from lando's office again. the pushups. watching the super bowl. just so much.

that was more than i expected to remember lmao anyway, nortrell rights

[areallysourlemon]

Biggering Animation (Behind The Scenes / Work In Progress Log #15)

waoh, hello, its been almost 6-7 months(?) it's certainly been a while since the last update I would say I'm slowly gaining my confidence back into the project, I've finally graduated university and got my bachelor's degree (Yippieee!!!!), but now I have to actually get a job :c I am still recovering from a hard burnout and trying to get myself back on track. 2024 was a real rough year, so I'm hoping things will be better this year I do wish I could work on this faster but I really do care about the quality of my work, and I've rewatched some of the scenes I've done so far and a couple need just a total remake other than that, I'm getting back into it :D

[grooviestsadpapaya]

Literally I cannot possibly have anyone I know in real life find out about my comic or I will have two worlds collide and that would be bad,,, is this normal

[auroraphantasma]

@purpleillusn HAPPY HOLIDAY TRUCE! (and a happy new year!)

I loved your prompts so much! I went with space core!Danny!

[off-mozzarella]

A lil something for Whumptober day 10: blow to the head

[wvyld]

KotOR week: The Jedi Civil War (+ anemone)

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 24 : mirror

[nox-in-a-box]

Anti-Cedfia Week Day 6: Breeze

[raineandsky]

#83

“[Hero],” the villain opens with smoothness they haven’t shown the hero in a long time. “I have made a terrible, terrible mistake.”

Ah. Seduction for a favour. Of course. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, [Villain]. I could use a good laugh.”

The villain pulls a face, distantly offended. Their lips twitch uncertainly. “[Supervillain]’s lab is… made for [Supervillain].”

“Who’d have thought. You’ve been in there?”

Another twitch. “Yes,” the villain says shortly. “Yes, I was in there. [Supervillain] doesn’t label anything either. Their little concoctions could be anything—and I… drank one.”

The hero snorts. The villain scowls. “You drank an unlabelled liquid?” the hero asks from behind a laugh.

“Yes.”

“Intentionally?”

The villain’s scowl somehow deepens. “Yes.”

“What, are your hours numbered? Are you hoping I hold a secret cure?”

“No.”

“What was it, then?”

Another twitch. The villain doesn’t seem to want to answer at all. “It was a truth serum.”

Oh. Now that is interesting. “Truth serum? So you can’t lie?”

“Yes.” The villain smirks, and suddenly the seductive hopefulness is back full force. “Go on, test me. Ask a question.”

The hero stares into the distance as they think. It’s a lot of opportunity dumped on them with no warning. The villain slinks across the room towards them, curious, tantalising. “Do you actually enjoy being a villain?”

“Yes.” The villain’s smirk upturns even more. “I wouldn’t even have to lie for that. Ask something I wouldn’t usually answer, dumbass.”

The villain closes the space between them. The hero gives them a suspicious squint. “Where’s your evil lair?”

“In the basement of the old school downtown,” the villain says immediately. They groan disappointedly as soon as the words are out. “God, of course you’d go for something about work. What, is looking for us getting boring?”

The hero can feel the villain’s breath on their face now. They look away to avoid the heat rising to their face. “You want me to ask something… personal?”

The villain smirks. Their arms snake up to sit on the hero’s shoulders, their fingers brushing idly through their hair. “Sure.”

Thinking isn’t the hero’s strong suit right now. They know they should push the villain away, but something’s stopping them. It almost feels real. It’s a little too comfortable. They can feel every bit of the villain's body against theirs. “I, uh… are you… seeing anyone?”

“No,” the villain whispers with a cocky grin. “Not yet.”

And the villain presses their lips to the hero’s.

Something of a surprised squeak tumbles from the hero’s mouth and straight into the villain’s. The villain hums a laugh, their fingers tightening in the other’s hair. The hero is caught up in the shock of it for a moment, but once their brain kicks in and screams its victory they remember to actually kiss them back.

The villain’s mouth is soft, gentle, their lips moving against the hero’s with a novel carefulness. The hero lets their arms slide around the other’s waist, pulling them in a little more, almost lightheaded with the exhilarated buzz. They can feel the villain smile against them as they deepen the kiss. The villain’s lips are almost salty, crisp, moreish. The hero doesn’t think they could ever get enough of their taste on their tongue.

The villain pulls away after a moment, much to the hero’s dismay, though their arms stay locked possessively around their neck. They throw a smirk at the hero again, entirely too proud of what they just pulled. “How many heroes are on the roster right now?”

The hero’s mouth is forming words before they can even register the question. “Twelve.”

“Damn.” The villain’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and the hero suddenly realises what’s happening. This bastard. “That’s not a lot. We have more than that.”

“How many?”

“Thirty-six.” The hero’s eyes widen slightly in horror, and the villain scowls at them. They still haven’t let go. “Fuck you.”

“What is—”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” Damnnit. The villain’s smirk turns playful at the hero's answer. “What’s—”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes.” The hero’s feelings aren’t stopping the rising desire to strangle the villain for making them do this. “You asshole.”

The villain’s smirk turns into a grin. “Aww. See, you can be—”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes.” The villain’s smile is gone in a second. “Oh, who’s the asshole now, huh?”

“This is so stupid,” the hero points out with a scowl. “How long does this stuff last?”

“I don’t know.” The villain grins again, entirely too knowing. “Why don’t we find out? We have all day.”

The hero frowns in faint annoyance, but the villain easily wipes it off their face with another taste of truth serum.

[sleepyskeleton-0]

Prompt: Hug/“this isn’t a negotiation, friend” (day 16)

Characters: Wild + Legend

Goddess, Time’s gonna kill me, Wild thought to himself as he trekked through the forest. He was allowed to go out foraging on the condition that he’d be back at camp before sunset. He grimaced as he looked at the orange streaks in the sky fading into purple.

It had been a calm day. A few stray monsters here and there, but nothing even one of them couldn’t handle. It had put most of them on edge (“it's the calm before the inevitable storm”, Hyrule said) but they all decided to ignore it in favour of having a bit of fun. Wind and Four were by the river last he’d seen them, collecting and admiring cool rocks. The others decided to take advantage of the fact that the old man was actually willing to play cards this time and even put money on the table.

In any case, it had been a while since he left the clearing and he really needed to get back before-

He stopped.

There, on the side of the overgrown path, sat Legend.

He was sitting facing in the other direction, hunched in over himself as if he’d just been punched in the gut.

Wild approached him with caution.

“Hey Legend, what are you doing?”

He came around to face the other hero and sat down in front of him. The Vet had his face buried in his knees, arms around his head. He stayed silent.

“Legend?”

“Hm.”

“You okay?”

Neither of them moved for a long while, each deciding to let the question hang in the air between them while Legend found his bearings.

He lifted his head, his face was screwed into a difficult expression, halfway between anxiousness and despair.

Wild frowned, but didn’t stare. Instead, he decided to take an interest in the dandelions that grew around them.

It’s as if he could hear the other’s struggle as he tried to form words.

“I-”

Legend coughed, trying to untighten his throat so he wouldn’t sound as choked up.

“I’m okay. I just get like this sometimes.”

It was true. They all had days where they couldn’t explain why exactly they had low mood or high anxiety, but that didn’t mean they needed to be alone during those confusing and stressful times.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“That’s okay, but you’re still gonna have to pay your taxes”, Wild turned his nose up in mock entitlement, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wha- what?” The look of bewilderment almost made him crack.

“I’m here to collect your taxes, dude. Now pay up”, and he opened his arms with a blinding, over exaggerated smile.

Legend stared at him for a long, hard moment.

Tears pricked his eyes, apparently on their own accord, because he reached up and furiously wiped them away, snorting.

“You’re stupid.”

“Nah, I just know you.”

“Yeah, I hate that.”

“Can you just accept the hug??”

Legend sighed and promptly fell into the Champion, making no move to reciprocate the arms that encircled him in a tight embrace.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other’s company while any remaining anxiety and frustration ebbed away.

It took some time before either was ready to pull away. Admittedly, it was cold, and Wild was a pleasant source of heat.

Legend smiled as the last of his turmoil came to an end.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Compound Fracture

YA thriller set in rural West Virginia

follows an autistic trans boy who survives being almost killed by the Sheriff’s son after a party, and accidentally kills one of the boys who hurt him when he tries to get back at him

and is pulled head-first back into the 100 year old feud between his & the sheriff’s families, that began when his great-great grandfather was executed after inciting a miner’s rebellion, the grandfather whose ghost has started to haunt him

community & family & socialist revolution

aro-questioning MC

arc from netgalley, out september 3

[chaoticlandworlder]

Something so devasting abt realising a blog that u sometimes reblog from actl fervently hates one of your faves

[ghostsoforpheus]

random julie and the phantoms gifs 08/∞ (julie & luke in every episode edition)

[nanaarchy]

Any ETA on when you'll post your Invisobang fic? (This isn't me trying to hurry you I am genuinely just curious so I know when to look for it)

HEY GUYS!!

first off I just wanted to say i am so so happy to see the excitement for this fic??? like its so crazy to me to see so so so many people hyped for it sbgkhskshgs i hope i deliver something good :") i think it's not gonna be what people expect it to be, it's a combination of factors that I haven't seen anywhere on ao3, so im excited to see reactions lol. im still happy so many of yall wanna read it,, soobbign... cyring....

during the IB months I wrote 6 out of 8 chapters, abt 3k words each? is that a solid amount of words per chapter? no clue tbh. plus I had to rewrite a bunch, oops. I really am Not a fast writer

and so much has been happening irl, ive been hella busy :( honestly i was very much hit with the ao3 author curse lmao

and thus, many delays. but I am currently finishing the last two chapters, and once I finish this one i'll start posting!!

soooo, ETA?

Sunday the 15th!!

or maybe monday the 16th. my posting deadline is this weekend so i wanna start sharing things already ^^ and i'll prooobably post a chapter every two days >:) yippee

shout out to @zillychu (here!) and @they-bite (here!) for making the art for this fic. theyre absolute angels, incredible jaw-dropping awe-inspiring breath-taking artists <3333 GO GO GO LOOK AT THEIR ART PIECES !!! thank you both for being so so patient with how long this fic is taking. YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTE SWEETHEARTS!! you were both so supportive with everything, your excitement really fueled me to keep going with this wild fic, and i am so so so grateful for having been paired with two of my absolute favorite phandom artists. the stars really aligned to put me on a team with the kindest most skilled more ingenious artists i've seen around these parts, two artists that chose to make art for my silly little goofy fic, and i am beyond thankful. yall are gems <3

thank you guys for being so patient as well!!! <3