#its just. kind of boring god bless.

[wizardnuke]

head in hands. i spent two days on that essay. i thought it was bullshit. what do you mean it was the only a in the class. what are you talking about. why.

[renreo]

weirdo gremlin self proclaimed rival who is also your long distance gf you forgot about

[angstylittleb1tch]

The brightest star in the night sky. (Aether x creator!reader) pt. 2

Summary: Now that the traveller has made an unexpected visit in your peaceful yet boring life, what all storms will he bring?

Note: Since you guys showed so much love towards the previous part of this fic I decided to continue it (Haha I definitely did not just quit writing mid fic and was awol for months lol who said that😄😄) though I do have to say I have my conerns with how uh *cough* feral *cough* some people are towards aether like chilllllll- anyways I hope you enjoy this part aswell.

Also this is very much NOT proofread at all, I kinda just wanted the part to be out there already after depriving you guys for so long lol.

Warnings: Aether definitely has abandonment issues, borderline yandere(?) Aether, mentions of starvation, Aether being cute as fyck.

Pt 1

Previously on mean girls teyvat:

"I never told you my name."

Both Aether and Paimon looked at each other as the atmosphere took a turn for the worse. There was no humor in your voice and your face looked cold, completely contradicting your laughs and smiles earlier.

"I- Please let me expla-"

Just as Aether took a single step in your direction vines sprung at him, securing him in his place as they wrapped around him. Paimon tried to pry them off but to no avail. He looked back up towards you but all he saw was a pure black sword pointing at his throat and a dark look in your eyes.

"Who am I, to you."

Now:

Life wasn't always kind to you during your stay in teyvat. Yes, you were the first and only reincarnation of the long-forgotten creator of Teyvat and Celestia but no matter how everyone puts it, even a God has Bad days, and you were currently having one of your worst ones.

"Don't make me repeat myself traveler. I expect only the truth and I have to say, my swordsmanship skills are decent enough to behead someone so speak wisely."

Aether had never felt more angry at himself and his own stupidity right now than his entire stay on teyvat. But how could he have known that a small slip of the tongue would have made you this guarded? He knows it was his carelessness yet he also feels a little pang of disappointment in his heart for reasons unknown.

"I'll explain everything y/- I mean, You grace, please lower the sword." He manages to choke out with the vines digging into his neck and hands.

Despite your better judgement you comply because deep down you know that Aether would never even think about harming a hair on your head. Maybe it was the trust and years of exploring teyvat as Aether that made you want to listen to anything he said or maybe the fact that you grew attached to the blonde haired male somewhere along the way. Far more attached than you're willing to admit out loud.

"Thank you your grace, I apologize, I know you want answers and I'll answer any questions you have so please ask away"

"How. How did you know who I was? No one was alerted of my presence, I made sure of it so how?"

"I- Your grace even I don't know for sure but I assumed its because you chose me."

"Chose you? What do you mean?"

"Yes your grace, do you not remember? Back when me and my sister were trying to leave teyvat but were stopped by the unknown god, you chose to bless my with your protection which is why I was able to escape the fight."

"Oh. Right I suppose that did happen in the game."

"What was that your grace?"

"Nothing! Uhm- So then why are you here? It's obvious you want something from me, no?"

"I- there's nothing of the sort your grace. Quite frankly I- I have no idea why I started to find you in the first place. It's just something in the back of my mind, When I first felt your presence In this world I- I felt as though finding you was all I could do, Like I had to protect you from something. It's weird isn't it? I couldn't sleep nor eat for days, I felt a sort of a gravitation or pull towards you, I still do."

"What? A Pull towards me? That's- not supposed to happen-" You stumble back a bit suddenly feeling as if someone tied an anvil to your head.

"Your grace?! Are you alright?!" The vines wrapping Aether weaken and he's able to immediately pull them off and rush to your side, Paimon not far behind.

"Your Grace! Can you hear me?! Keep your eyes open! Y/n!!"

You could barely make out bits and piece of Aether's voice as you started seeing black spots in your vision. You couldn't maintain your balance and fell right into Aether's arms, eyes promptly shutting as both his and Paimon's words drifted out of your head.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Sounds of water rushing down a river and chirping of birds stirred you awake. A small groan left you as you got up into a sitting position and opened your eyes.

You were no doubt beside a riverbed and definitely not where you last remember being. Wait, what were you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be in the....

Your brain fills with memories of what happened before you passed out. Aether was there, and he knew you. He never claearly explained how he knew but you weren't all that concerned about that right now with the fact that you're in the middle of an unknown forest with no recollection of how you got there.

Deciding to get up and find some sort of a way out you pick a direction and move towards it.

What you didn't however notice was the the water in the river didn't seem to reflect you at all.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Fallen leaves crunched under your boots. You'd been walking for hours now yet no matter how much you walked you found yourself going in circles. Admittingly you didn't have great navigation skills but surely walking straight doesn't get you going in circles?

Coughs escape you as its been hours since you've last had a single sip of water and coincidently, every water body seems to want to avoid you. So much for being a reincarnation of a god huh.

However, your chain of thoughts was broken when you heard the snap of a fallen branch behind you. Your head whipped around towards the source at an astounding speed, "Who's there?!" The bushes you were so carefully staring at rustled indicating the presence of something.

Soon after though, a small rabbit hopped out of the bush, instantaneously easing your worries. It was pure white with icy blue iris' staring right back at you. Scratch the easing your worries part, this thing was terribly creepy. (A/N: IS THAT GOJO?)

It slowly hopped its way towards you, making you take a step back incase it decided to maul you to death. Yeah rabbits can definitely do that. It hopped closer and closer till it was touching your leg.

You despite your better decisions, slowly kneeled down and sat albeit uncomfortably. The rabbit however either didn't sense your unease or just simply didn't care. It hopped in your lap and nestled in. You hesitantly, out of reflex started petting him.

The rabbit let out a purr of approval. This isn't half bad eh? "Are you lost too?" You were surprised that the rabbit didn't understand you. Yep you were definitely going insane. Talking to rabbits? You were no snow white.

You definitely needed to get out of this forest and soon. "You're my friend now" Insane or not this rabbit was the only source of life you've seen in the past dozen hours. Screw you for wanting to have some semblence of a conversation.

The rabbit looked up at you with a deadpan expression, almost as if it understood what you said and didn't agree in the slightest. "Don't give me that look life's been hard ok?" The rabbit gave you another look.

It hopped out of your lap and headed for the direction opposite to the one you were going in. However it stopped after a second and turned around to look at you, almost beckoning you to follow it.

You did just that.

Following a creepy rabbit in a creepy jungle when you're alone without food and water? Seems like the most sensible thing to do no?

Trudging down the path behind the hopping rabbit your mind began to wander back to Aether. What did he mean by having a feeling of wanting to protect you? Was it merely because you're The Reincarnation or something else?

I suppose we'll know in due time eh?

The rabbit soon came to a halt. You looked up to see where it had stopped, finding a small house with a little farm beside it. Whoever was living here must have been for a long long time.

The rabbit moved out of the way as you walked up to the doorway and raised you hand to knock. Just as your fist was about to make contact with the door, a voice called out to you from inside the house "Come in!"

Huh that was a little weird. You looked behind you only to find the rabbit gone without a trace. Slightly creeped out, you obeyed the mysterious person's call and opened the wooden door stepping in.

You were immediately greeted by warmth, noticing a fireplace not far from where you stood. The house was exactly what you expected it to be inside. A small living area decorated with rugs and blankets, the fireplace providing warmth. A dining table enough to accommodate two people. Paintings everywhere. On the walls, the fireplace and even the kitchen counter top.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so you let your legs take you further into the house. Thats when it hit you. The smell of food. Your nose decided to guide your body to the dining table where you found tons of delicious looking options, from pancakes and waffles to eggs and bacon. The sight simply made you drool.

"Well sit down already, breakfast's almost ready dear" You heard that voice again though there was nobody around you at all. It confused you beyond anything.

"Who said that?" You managed to croak out of your parched throat.

"Introductions will be made in due time, first you should eat and drink something. You look starved. Let me help you"

Next thing you know a chair pops out from behind you, pushing your legs making you fall on it and tucks you right into the table. Dishes and utensils float out from the cabinates in the kitchen and place themselves infront of you. Without a thought in your mind, you give into the temptation and scarf down the food presented quite comically.

A choking sound emanates from your throat at the improper ingestion of food. Looking around for water a hand presents the desired liquid in a glass from beside you.

"Woah, easy there darling, we have plenty of time, eat like a human being please" You grab it thankfully and drink it letting out a sigh of relief from your suffocated state.

Your eyes move up to find the source of the sound only to see the most beautiful man you've ever been near smiling back at you. Though you cannot decipher any details of his face you just can't help but be in awe.

"W-who are you?" You sputter out.

"Me? I'm whoever you wish me to be darling."

Just as he says that, a bright light emanates from within him, momentarily blinding you and making you shield your eyes. As the light dulls down, you look up, only to see aether smiling back at you.

But that's not Aether.

No matter how perfectly every crevice of this person's face matches Aether's you know in your heart and soul, that the person across you is far from Aether.

"It seems you can only tell the difference when its him huh?"

"I'll ask you one more time, Who. Are. You."

You demand standing up from your seat as you come face to face with the man thing using Aether's face.

"Worry not dear, i'm not here to harm you. I'm actually doing the exact opposite, i know you aren't aware much of this world you've been thrusted into yet so i'll try to explain as swift as i can but you'll have to drop the cold looks and give me a solid chance."

You, although regrettably, wipe off the sourness on your face and morph it into slight displeasure. The being hums in content and sits down on a chair that wasn't there a second ago, motioning for you to sit down too.

You begrudgingly take a seat and look at the person expectanly.

It sighs and begins to speak "I suppose it started when the original creator of teyvat, Rhea, who was a dear friend of mine, had met her untimely end. She wasn't immortal like me nor was she a god at first. She was an ascender. Ascenders are people chosen by the gods to take on godhood, become deities and live like us. The aren't regarded as pure gods however, since a part of their mortal nature still clings to them."

"However Rhea was different from the other ascenders. She had a secret even I didn't know of till her final days. Rhea wasn't a complete mortal and due to her dual nature, the ascending ceremony had resulted in her unleashing a power that was thought to be long lost. You see, though immortal, us gods are not unkillable. Just as there is life for us there will also be death. We are slaves to the rules of the universe just as the mortals we create."

"Rhea had the power of Yang. She was the only being in existence with energy and power completely opposite to us gods. If we created, she destroyed. However Rhea was not cruel. She was the most admirable and loving person to ever exist, it's ironic how the kindest soul had been given the cruelest power." The being spoke, his lips stretching into a sad smile at the thought of his dead best friend.

"She had grown to hate her power. It had almost killed her and plenty of our other friends multiple times and had driven her sick. And thus came the one night neither I nor any of the surviving gods would be able to erase from our memories, Rhea made a decision. Rather than letting her power slowly destroy her and those she sought to protect, she would create. And she did. She crafted teyvat from her bare hands and used every ounce of her Yang to breathe life into teyvat.

Her power almost leveled the entirety of celestia that night. Had she not locked away herself with her powers in teyvat, there would be nothing left of us." His face had a grim look as his eyes moved up to look deep into your own.

"And that's where you come in dear. You y/n, are the only one in the entirety of the universe, capable of bringing Rhea back."

"M-me? You must be mistaken. You have to be. There's no way I can bring back a dead god! Yes I might be some reincarnation but you're asking me to bring someone back from the dead for heavens sake! Th-theres no way that's possible!" You didn't know what else to say, much less do, all this talk was starting to drive you insane.

"Dead god? Oh darling I never said Rhea was dead. Only that she'd been locked away in y—" A loud sound interrupted his words. Both your head snapped towards the front door and the window beside it. Golden light started to pool in from the windows and door cracks.

"What is happening? Are you doing this?" You asked looking back at the being only to see his face in a calculative and almost nervous look.

However, before you could say anything else, you felt as if you were being forcefully pulled away from the being across from you. His gaze snapped to you as his face contorted into a surprised look which soon morphed into an angry one.

"YOU!"

His voice boomed througout the room, however you noticed that his gaze didn't seem to be on you, rather on something behind you.

But before you could turn you eyelids started drooping, a sudden wave of dizziness and sleep overcame you as your body hit the floor. The last thing you could comprehend being a distorted voice saying,

"You—....keEp___..... from....y/n........make suRE.....you ____......time—...___ ProTect—......her!"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The sound of a strange buzzing awoke you from your deep slumber. Your head felt like it was being hammered in and that wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. Regardless you decided to open your eyes.

The first thing you could make out was the moss growing on the ceiling. A familiar sight. You were in your room. The thought alone brought your body to relax. The next thing you percieved was a strange heaviness resting on top of your right hand.

You moved your eyes down to see a flock of golden hair resting directly by your side. The familiarity of the hair struck your already throbbing head as you finally realized what that strange heaviness was.

Aether was sleeping peacfully near your bed.

A turmoil of emotions crawled up your spine. Why was he here? Why is he asleep? Is he grabbing my hand? Indeed, Aether had fallen asleep with his fingers interlocked with yours and his head rested by your right hand.

The contact had alone made a blush make it's way to your cheeks, dusting them pink. God, his hand felt perfect in your's, almost as if it was made for you to hold.

However you had no time to let your thoughts fester in your mind as Aether had begun to stir from his slumber due your racing heartbeat. He of course had no idea he was the cause of said heartbeat.

"Y-y/n? You're— you're awake." He stammered out, honorifics completely leaving his mind at the sight of you.

"I could say the same" You speak out, gently squeezing his hand causing him to look down at his fingers.

It was Aether's time to blush now.

Being caught holding your hand much less sleeping next to it was definitely among the top 3 most embarrassing things Aether has ever done. Honestly, who could blame him?

When you had fallen down all of a sudden like that, Aether's heart had almost leapt out of his chest. For the first time in his life, seeing you so deathly still in his arms,

Aether was unmistakably scared.

Yes, the mighty powerful traveller who had fought dragons and gods and rivalled archons in power, was scared.

Your face had never looked so still before, and nothing could have terrified Aether more than when you had stopped Breathing for minutes on end. Aether had absolutely refused to even think straight. You being gone was never a thought he would let into his mind. He wouldn't lose you. Not after he lost everything else important to him. Not you though. Never you.

Back then Aether hadn't paid attention to anything except thinking about how to wake you up. The only thought in his mind being

You. You. You. You.

So unsurprisingly, when the connection he had been feeling for months up until he finally met you today was bursting with actual visible golden energy, that thrummed all the way from his chest, through his veins and into his hands, he hadn't thought twice about thrusting that power into you, hoping it could save you just as it saved him all those months ago.

And his trust was not misplaced.

Soon enough he could feel your heart starting to beat again. The same rhythm he swears to have memorised by now. His hands moved under you and curled around your shoulders and legs to lift you up effortlesly as he moved further into the cottage to set you down someplace comfortable.

Paimon had followed Aether worriedly, seeing how he ignored the way all the plants and flowers around the two of them had shriveled up and lost their life the more Aether continued to use that mysterious power on you.

The only flowers that remained were the Inteyvats, shining among the withering flowers, like the brightest star in the night sky.

Well shit. That was honestly WAY longer than I'd initially planned this to be 😭😭

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS PART THO.

Did you guys enjoy the massive lore drop? Or was it the Aether going almost yandere that you guys liked?(this wasn't planned btw I promise I can write non yandere stuff😭😭)

Tbh i wanted more y/n and Aether banter in here but I'm content with how this chapter turned out lol.

With how long it's taken me to write this ch (because i originally intended for this to be a standalone with no sub parts) but now that I'm writing the idea out, it just keeps getting longer and longer😔😔

SO ALLOW ME TO RE-INTRODUCE THIS AS A SERIES TO YA'LL<3

I'd heavily appreciate it if you guys were to send me ideas about how you think this story would turn out, and what character you think we'll be seeing in the future lol. I have a basic idea of how I want this story to turn out but I'd love to hear your thoughts as well!!

Well then, I suppose I'll see you all in the next part eh?

Until the next one~

Taglist:

@mthewitchsworld @tealconie @ravenstuffs @sirspin @valeriele3 @ash1 @leafanonsforest @the-dumber-scaramouche @goldenglow149 @elite2307 @m-majoko @yourlocalstranger123 @blueberry-jelly-stars @strawpez @sipysuki @esesfurki @ifeellikejumpingoffacliff @toybonix @theabysss @fancyhawk45 @resident-cryptid

[abyssal808]

S1 Soulmate Au prompt inspired by @subbaculture 's prompt wherein "Eddie learns Tengwar just to be special and so Steve's been kicking around with "What's Kickin', Sexy?" on his body

What Tommy Hagan hadn’t been blessed with in terms of intelligence. God - in his allegedly infinite wisdom - had seen fit to redistribute into shoulder width.

Tommy, in turn, swanned around Hawkin’s High shoulder-checking every freak, geek and nerd into nearby lockers; with the kind of wingspan better suited to weirdly proportioned monkeys.

Hellfire members were no stranger to it. Two weeks ago Hagan had run into Gareth hard enough to leave a bruise. A “bump” with enough force behind it that he’d bounced off the lockers and landed on the floor.

Which, fine, two could play at that game. Even if Hagan could barely get his hand off Carol’s tits to realize there were counter-moves to be made at all.

A grade A dick move, even if it was also incredibly boring and pedestrian. The kind of thing jocks who barely had two braincells to rub together saw as peak comedy. Giggling like a cross between a group of cavemen and a flock of pre-school girls whenever their ring-leader du jour started herding freaks like a neurotic border collie.

“Watch it, freak.” Hagan hissed, skirting around Eddie without bothering to shove him at all. Giving a wide berth to whatever zone of contagious freak cooties being Eddie Munson brought to the table.

Behind him, Gareth - blocked from the rest of the hall by Eddie’s leather jacket, in a way only freshies were short enough to pull off - buried a laugh in a cough, muffled into the heel of his hand. Not missing the way that even Hagan - the most infamous asshole of them all - looked ready to bolt as soon as Eddie waved him off in a jaunty salute.

Victory tasted sweet and electric. Fizzing under his skin the way Wayne’s Miller Lites would bubble in the back of his throat, whenever Eddie stole a sip from the half open cans in the back of their fridge. It made him stupid in a way those brief tastes of beer hadn’t managed to yet.

Being The Freak came with perks. An untouchable radius that left Eddie drunk with power. Riding the high of knowing that maybe Highschool didn’t have to suck all the time. That he could play at being a rabid guard dog for the lost little sheep of the world, rail against dickheads like Hagan and win.

Maybe he could use it to plead temporary insanity for what he did next. Riding the high into a really, spectacularly stupid idea.

Everyone had their words.

Eddie’s were tucked away, hidden along the curve of his rib. A curly chicken scratch that mixed print and cursive into a barely legible mess.

‘Is that like, yiddish?’

A weird-ass question, until Eddie had pulled an all nighter on a now infamous school night, falling in love with Middle earth. Head filled with nothing but the dark halls of Khazad-dûm, the sweeping boughs of Lothlórien.

Speak friend and enter.

Pedo mellon a minno.

He’d traced the words over and over. Thrilled by the lilt, the cadence, the beautiful rise and fall of consonants no one else would understand.

Setting his heart there and then on the dorkiest greeting anyone could have come up with. But hey, it was original, which was half the battle people went through when picking soulmate greetings.

He’d gone through several variations. Always in Sindarin, because why the hell not.

People usually saved them, tucked them far away from casual conversation. Bizarre phrases, always non-sequitour, brought out only for special occasions. That lightning strike of instant attraction. People you could see yourself connecting with. Hoping they would be a part of you as much as you were theirs.

He couldn’t see himself connecting with Tommy Hagan in a million years. Not even if they waited in that hallway until the heat death of the universe.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t terrorize him with the possibility.

“What’s Kickin’ Sexy?”

He yelled after Hagan’s retreating back, with its fuck-off wide shoulders; elvish mangled, but passable. Enjoying the rictus of horror on his face, going from anger to fear and back again.

He shifted on his heel, pushing Gareth further behind him in case things got ugly. Herding him back towards Jeff with little bumps, as both of them tried to muscle down their cackling. Nerdy enough to piece together the gist of what Eddie had been hollering about. Even if Jeff was better at Quenya, because he was a weirdo and a purist about that kind of shit.

All in all, a job well done, assuming Hagan didn’t flip his shit and start throwing punches to assert dominance.

Or at least, it felt like it, until Harrington - trailing behind Hagan - sucked all the air out of the room. Hands on his hips, a furrow on his brow, blurting it out without even thinking about it.

“Is that like, Yiddish?”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Panic clamped around Eddie’s throat like a vice. The same way Gareth’s hand, tiny and tense - he had yet to hit his growth spurt - wrapped around the edge of Eddie’s leather jacket. Pushing past the waistband of his jeans to claw at skin.

The side that mattered, one they both knew had those words that wrapped around Eddie’s chest. Curving towards the sternum.

Whatever face he was making gave it away instantly.

Harrington’s face shuttered and fell. A whole host of micro expressions that passed through in a second before he scrubbed them away. A pair of shaking hands that rubbed at his eyes and dragged down his face. Peeking at Eddie through a gap in his fingers.

“Jesus Christ it’s you; isn’t it?”

Behind Eddie, Gareth tugged him half a step back, nails digging into his hip. Little half-moon crescents he barely felt now, but would find later.

“Steve?” The waver in Hagan’s voice would have been funny if it wasn’t nauseating.

Terrifying, when Steve waved him off and stepped towards Eddie. Jerky and halting, like a puppet with half it’s strings cut.

“I can’t fucking believe this Munson. You gotta tell me if it is.” Steve bit out, with a wobble that sounded too trembling and confused to be anger. Even if it would come later.

It was probably coming later.

Anger always got there in the end, with boys like Harrington. Sharp comebacks and sharper right hook always winning out, spurred on by that bone-deep, animal fear of losing your place in the social food chain.

King Steve didn’t seem worried it yet though. Adding to the bizarre hilarity of the situation as he undid his belt and untucked his shirt to the concerned shouts of everyone left in the hall, witnesses to this trainwreck.

If Eddie hadn’t been convinced he’d died and gone to purgatory a minute earlier. He would have been convinced there and then.

As Steve Harrington turned around, bunched his striped polo up high and his khaki’s down low. Stripping down to show the athletic curve of a hip. The dip of a waist that looked small next to his swimmer’s shoulders - almost wide enough to rival Hagan’s - a scattering of moles that dusted across his lower back, framing his mark.

There, on King Steve’s back, bracketed by dimples, low enough to count as a truly slutty tramp stamp sat Eddie’s words. The swooping curves of Tengwar branded into his skin.

“What’s kickin’, Sexy?”

[rosiemarieyn]

Warehouse

pairing: Lenny Miller x (spy)Reader

Summary: Sneaking in went wrong, now you have to face him.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (kinda), fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Note: Bought new vinyls and one of the songs inspired me to write something like this so enjoy !!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Simple. Sneak inside the warehouse, take the goods, and leave. Easy.

Being a spy had its perks, being able to sneak behind people's backs and seize them when in need of money or simply you were bored.

Also, you get to know about everyone's deepest darkest secrets, you loved to gossip back in the day.

Oh, right. Back to sneaking in. You roamed around for an open window. Shit, of course, they wouldn't leave any, this was the CIA for fucks sake! You had no other option but to forcefully make your way inside. You climbed up a rusty ladder, god bless your gloves because these steps could give you many diseases that have probably never been seen since the 1500s, that's how dusty this place was.

Just as you were about to break the window, you saw movement from the inside, making you freeze instantly. You crouched -it wasn't the best idea to crouch on some rusty ladder- instantly resulting in your back-hurting fall, making a loud thud noise alongside. You saw the figure open the window and look down. Fuck, busted. Quickly gathering your bag, you stood up, getting ready to run when you heard a click. Too late to run, you put your arms up, staying still as you heard someone walk down the same ladder you fell. Humiliating.

"Turn around." What a voice, definitely heard it somewhere though- You turned around to face the man. Shock quickly spreads to your eyes from your facial muscles. REALLY? HIM??? Standing right in front of you at this very moment was the man you considered your mortal enemy.

"Look who it is, Mr. Miller…missed me?" This came out more sarcastically than you intended but oh well. "Still at your little antics? How many times do I have to tell you to quit fucking around before some of my men shoot you like a deer in the hunting season?" Rude. Rolling your eyes seemed to only make him more furious as he stepped closer to you, spitting harsh words towards your way. Honestly, it was kind of funny to see him be so worked up over some woman trying to work!!!

"Why should I listen to someone who is trying to get me killed with every cell in his body?"

"kill you?!- I- I'm trying to protect you, idiot!!" He trashed around as you stared at him with wide eyes.

"What did you just say?-"

"Can't you see I'm trying to make you stay out of trouble so you don't get fucking killed?!!!"

"But why…?"

"Because I care about people I love."

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

[trensu]

have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly. 

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit. 

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees. 

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything. 

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.” 

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over. 

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me. 

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now. 

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different. 

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said. 

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.” 

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something. 

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[mosaickiwi]

Fall Unto Me

Meant to post this before Halloween except it got reaaaally long so I split it up. 🙈 It works as a standalone, though. I'll put the other parts up at some point hehe.

Actual!Angel and Devil!Ren AU (yoinked from da discord bot once again) One visit to earth turns into eternity. 1.4k words + GN reader

cw// religious themes

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

With pearly white wings and a halo of gold, you were a disciple in heaven’s endless library. Duty bound to organize records and histories of paradise and its worlds below. Though you’d never looked within those records, just being in their presence gave you curiosity about your god’s creations all the same.

Once every hundred or so years in your infinite lifespan, you sought to venture into the human realm before returning to your celestial duty. It was an odd request to your peers. None were as interested in mortals as you so each visit was a lonely affair. You never stayed more than an hour or two, merely observing how they had changed from a favored seat in the clouds above, lest someone spotted you. It was only meant to be a short trip as always. This time something felt different.

In the quaint seaside town you were fond of visiting, you'd sensed a devil and dared to investigate. Of course, you'd never met one, so you had no idea what that uneasy feeling even was until your feet touched the ground for the very first time.

The devil seemed to be asleep in a field of blossoms, butterflies fluttering about. Spring was always in full bloom when you descended to earth. Pastel pink hair blended with the flowers, only making the black horns atop his head and the symbols scrawled along his arms stand out even more.

You approached with caution and curiosity. Though they were meant to be your sworn enemy, heaven's few rumors about devils already appeared untrue. The fauna and flora around him weren't withered and rotting, but full of life. He didn't smell of burning flesh, nor was he covered head to toe in the blood of his victims. If anything, his form seemed almost angelic.

He opened his eyes as you came closer, and their sky blue color welcomed you further. "Ah, could I be dreaming? Or has an angel come to rescind my eternal punishment?" he spoke wryly. 

"Nay, devil. I want no trouble from you," you said in response, caught off guard by his casual, relaxed greeting. You took a few fearful steps away when he rose to lean back on his hands.

"Hmm... You have some holy divination or blessing to bestow upon this land, I assume. I've no intention of interfering." He smiled up at you, and those angelic features seemed even more prominent. Were it not for the pointed tail swishing with vigor behind him, you'd think this devil was one of your own.

"There's no mission I've been given," you explained with a shake of your head, "I'm only here to observe my god's world for a few moments, out of my own curiosity."

"Fascinating. I've never known angels to take interest in mortal affairs before their passing. Then, if no duty calls for thee—" he stopped to pluck a white bud that hadn't quite fully bloomed from the sea around him. "Might you grace me with your divine visage for one moment longer, little angel? I've called earth my home for millennia—and damnation is dreadfully boring. I could help with those curiosities, if you so desire." He held the bud out to you as an offering.

Though his words sounded sincere, you felt unsure. “...Do you take me to be so naive? I know your kind favor trickery.”

“I only offer my companionship,” he gave an innocent shrug. That heavenly smile was still fixed on you.

Your eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his face. Eventually, you took the flower from him. You could sense no ill intent on their part, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a little while. Nonetheless, you’d do your best to stay on guard.

~

The sun dipped lower in the sky as you lost track of time. Ren, you learned, knew far more of humans than you ever imagined. Your interest in them grew with each story he told of the world. At his urging, you'd gone to the beach to wander up close among them. It was a bit of a struggle to prepare—you'd never been told that your wings could retract or your halo could be hidden. But he coached you through it, not so much as flinching at the sting of divine power when you accidentally hit his arm with a wing on the first try. For a devil, he was oddly knowledgeable of things beyond his damned realm.

“You said your visits were always over in the late morning. So you haven’t seen this time of day, have you?” he asked as you both walked along the shore, waves glittering in gentle reds and pinks you’d never known the sun to make.

“I haven’t seen this terrain either.” Even with the occasional pausing stares of young children and animals—the only beings who could see your true form, as they were without sin—you were thrilled at the new experiences you were having. Your footsteps painted the sand rather unevenly compared to his. It was impossible to get used to the sinking feeling, nor the coarse sand getting into your sandals. You laughed at the sensation. “Heaven is all clouds and gardens. Here… it’s so different. The sun shines differently. But it’s still just as beautiful.”

He took your hand in his to keep you steady, pulling you towards the water’s edge. They were all too comfortable with the action, but you didn't spare it a thought. The guard you were meant to keep up had been thrown aside long ago. “I’m honored to show you such new experiences. And I only hope to give you more.” Ren’s face was bathed in a heavenly glow as he guided you into the water. 

It was a stark contrast. The once warm sand turned to a bracing cold, almost slimy texture as the water slowly rose up to your waist. You raised your other hand up high to avoid it, still clutching the late blooming bud he’d picked for you.

The pink-haired devil brought you to a stop and nodded out at the setting sun with an unreadable look, “I’m sure you won’t be able to take your eyes away from it. I couldn’t, my first time seeing the sun disappear.” At his suggestion you turned your head to watch, barely aware of the way their tail wrapped around your hips to keep you close.

It was captivating as the sun began to fall further beyond the horizon, the hues of the day gradually shifting both in the sky and sea before your eyes. Golds, reds, pinks, and purples all chased after the light, leaving behind a blue as cold as the water felt. In what seemed like an instant, it was over too soon—not a trace left of the glorious sun that never set back in the heavens you called home. Strangely enough, your body tensed with heavy feelings. As if you were saying goodbye to a part of you. You stood staring out at the graying ocean for a long while, until the cold water lapping against your skin felt no different from the air.

“How was it?” he gently broke the silence. You felt his hand move to rest over your own, cradling the flower still between your fingers. The heat of his touch guided you to meet his gaze.

“Breathtaking, I think,” you whispered with a frown as you looked up at him. “And a bit sad? All that warmth disappeared—I’m not sure how to feel.”

“Breathtaking as the sun is, you’ll find on earth that some flowers show their true beauty without its watchful eye, my little angel,” he said to reassure you. The bud in your shared grasp opened slowly at his words, its tapered white petals unfurling to reveal pale lavender edges as the sky darkened further. His fingers traced behind your ear before he tucked the flower among the strands of your hair, seeming to admire it. “You’d never have known if you’d only stayed those few moments.”

You searched his eyes as his hand lingered at your cheek. Just as when you first met, there was no malice in their voice. A devil who appreciated your god’s work felt unheard of. From Ren's intense gaze he looked as if he revered them. He must've been a kindred soul—or the equivalent of a soul in demons. You wanted to know more about him as well, not just mortals. 

Their fangs gleamed in the faint moonlight when you quietly asked, “What else can you show me?”

[yuri-is-online]

Hello author!! Congrats on 500 followers! I love the way you wrote "Plead the Fifth", Floyd's callback to the Portfest event was my favorite part. If its okay, can I pls request prompt 12 with Jade, Riddle, and Jamil? Thank you! 🫶💙

12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.

Bless you for catching that friend I was a bit worried no one would know what I was talking about. I thought it was so funny how offended they all got at being called adorable! other than Rook but yk

EDIT: I straight up did not realize I wrote this for Riddle twice oh my fucking god. I'm so sorry please feel free to message me with a separate request I am so sorry again my brain is fried.

notes: they/them used for Yuu. Severe violations of privacy and playing with emotions for Jade, and Jamil is fresh out of clown school, let us pray. I was listening to dancing with a stranger on loop while writing this so sorry if they're a bit angsty. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Jade

"Look." Jade is smiling and Azul has a tension headache. "You see how they've played this particular song fourteen times today? They're going to try and switch things up and listen to something else after the sixteenth loop but-"

"What in the hell does this have to do with anything?" Azul asks to be charitable, he already knows what this is about. Or he thinks he does anyway.

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to add it to the playlist for the Lounge. Just for tonight." There is a really strange tone to Jade's excitement, almost like he has no idea what he is doing and is just as thrilled by that as he was whatever brought him home in such a... state last night.

"Because if I don't you'll add it yourself and give Floyd back the password to the account?"

"I am so very glad we could reach a mutual understanding." Of course Jade has a plan, it had started formulating the instant he saw you dressed up for the formal Crowley had put together.

Boring. That's what this night was supposed to be. These masks were supposed to hide people's faces, sure but he knows them too well. Maybe if this was a different school where people were less predictable- But then there was you, and all his reason fell away.

"May I have this dance, stranger?" He is surprised you accept, delighted with how natural it feels to follow his lead. He was expecting this to be much, much harder.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask." You sound shy, flattered even, without the defensiveness he usually associates with the lead up to your trysts. Could it be- "I thought I felt someone watching me." -you do not know. The mask has worked for one lucky eel.

"Ah prefect," he greets you as usual, with a bow and a gesture to an empty seat "always so good to see you at the Mostro." This time he has selected a booth out of the way, towards the back and far too big for just one customer. Pity you hadn't brought those small fry with you, he was so looking forward to letting Floyd play with them. "Did you come here with something in mind? Or shall I make a suggestion?" You are so nervous you don't notice that he has failed to give you a menu until you finally bother to look up at him.

"I really just came here to talk..." how painful, you are looking away again. Jade is sure he is the best looking fish here, if you are that desperate to see him in the water he can certainly improvise.

"I am always willing to lend a sympathetic ear." He bends at the waist to hover his face just above yours, so close that you are force to return your eyes to his again. He watches as your pupils dilate and breath catches as the music in the lounge plucks a familiar song as if his magic lets him read minds.

"Go fuck yourself." It's missing the venom he'd like but as he traces your jawline with his gloved hand directly over the lipstick stains he'd left last night he thinks to himself that he is just fine with that. Jade is not in the mood to share your fire, it is such a rare thing for a mer to see after all.

"I would much prefer to leave that to you." He kisses you, quickly before you can fully ignite and waste your precious sparks on the public. "Funny story actually, I had such a nice time at the Masquerade last night I thought we should have ourselves another little date tonight. Do be gentle with me, I only had so much time to prepare." But waste or no he cannot deny himself the satisfied laugh that spills from him when you yank him back into a kiss and prevent him from running his mouth. Just what is he to do with you? Oh he has so many ideas...

Jamil

"Ha I thought I'd find you here." Jamil does his best to ignore Ace's voice, instead focusing on the hoop and sinking his throws into the net. Forty-One. "Aww not gonna ask any questions?" Forty-Two. "You know they talked to me. They always do." Forty-Three. "Said some reeeeeeal interesting stuff." Forty-Four. "Mushy too. Like seriously, you should both just get over yourselves and-"

Forty-Five. Jamil purposefully bounces the ball off the ground hard, not even bothering to watch Ace scramble to avoid it before shoves his face into his towel as if it can wipe away his embarrassment as well as his sweat.

"They are better off not knowing." He catches the ball Ace tries to hit him with, taking a little delight in how annoyed his junior looks before he realizes that it isn't going away as quickly as Ace's other pouts.

"Seriously? Where'd you get that idea from?" He sounds angry, Jamil has to remind himself and the seething pit in his stomach that Ace is Yuu's... friend. They are just friends who spend a lot of time alone. Alone together. Alone together inside a dormitory where Yuu live practically alone, a lot of times on nights when Jamil is alone in Scarabia with preparations for a party you aren't guaranteed to attend unlike those Unbirthday Party's Riddle has that you are at so much you might as well be part of his dorm.

Not that Jamil thinks about that a lot or is thinking about that at all when he gives Ace his best "superiority" complex smile.

"They were willing to make out with a stranger behind some thick curtains, clearly they don't have any strong feelings for anyone in the school and I would just be-"

"Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this situation in the fucking first place." This isn't normal jokey Ace. Normal "girls just wanna have fun Ace," no this is Ace as serious as Jamil wishes he always would be during... anything at all really. Funny how that side only ever seems to come out when he needs to distract someone. Funny how the pit is screaming how it only ever comes up when he is talking about you. "You get close to them one day, then you insist you can't talk to them because you are too busy taking care of Kalim. You give take advantage of them not being from Twisted Wonderland to give them things anyone would recognize as being romantic gifts but roll your eyes at the idea when confronted. Seriously it is a miracle they still like you and didn't think to try getting over you sooner."

Yuu is kissing him. They have what they can grasp of his face in their hands and are kissing him so painfully slowly. It's too much to bear, he can't keep to his senses and denial. Jamil pulls them further behind the curtains and kisses them. For one brief incandescent moment he allows himself to believe this is fated. That if the masks were gone, that if you were under the Scarabia curtains you would be holding onto his shirt just as tightly.

"You told them didn't you?" Ace doesn't bother to actually answer, the footsteps echoing down the hallway as he goes to leave answers Jamil’s question for him.

You are always beautiful.  His breath catches in his throat when he sees you, the pit swallowing itself as he realizes the urgency to the speed at which you close the gap but pause just before making it into his personal space.

“Can we talk?”  Ace’s words from earlier echo in his mind.  Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this?

“Of course.”  He purposefully places the basketball back onto the rack he had been using as an excuse to center himself.  “Would you let me take you to dinner?”

“No.”  You sound as if you hate yourself for saying it, but the instant it leaves your lips he smiles.  “No, I need you to tell me here because I can’t stand this stupid game of you taking your insecurities out on me.  Just what do I need to do for you to understand…”  Your nerve seems to be failing you now that he’s right in front of you.  But he isn’t cruel enough to make you wait.

“I like you.”  It’s not all of what you want to hear, and not all of what he wants to say.  But he’s in a sweaty gym uniform and you look like you’ve been crying.  Apologies are best made with food, and he loves you well enough to know your worry’s been eating at your apatite as much as it has his.

[lovebvni]

holaaa!! (dr rant + just an appreciation post)

(TW SLIGHT HINT TO GROOMING)

soo i’m shifting soon and i decided that im going to make my first album when i get there (LIKE START JT, DUDE. START IT. IM SO EXCITED) there’s going to b an ep i’m going to finalize when i get there and it will be released on the 26th of the month i get there (as it is kinda a diss on a MAN who was 26 when we dated… i was a minor still.)

i’m also gonna make a family tree because i’m really bored (and i also kinda js wanna see all my siblings yk? im gonna draw them all soon bc like AUGH AJAJDKDJ I MISS THEM!!!)

omgz i’m so excited dude!!

(appreciation below!!)

also i saw billie eilish in my dream last night. one of the funniest and sweetest people i know 😭 SHARK WAS ALSO IN THAT DREAM HES SO SWEET ‼️‼️ god i wish i could hug them today, just right now. yall don’t understand how much billie and finneas have been through together, and im so proud of how far they made it. i love you both, and although you won’t see this post in this reality, i know you will when we r together :DDD u guys make me so happy, so inspired, and just a better person overall. also huge thank you to billie in helping me with directing my music videos and being featured in one of my favorite songs — ripple effect. thank you finneas for just 😭 for keeping her alive, giving her a passion, and being so protective and supportive of her.

i’m so excited to b friends w both of them n js talk to them daily — it’s so fun.

i’m also super duper excited to meet one of my closest friends — nile — in person finally!!!! it’s been like 3 years of shifting together, and i know she’s excited too. i know she’s reading this, btw so i love u sm nile and thank u for being such a great and perfect friend throughout this whole journey. i truly don’t think i would still be kicking without you. i owe you the world, and i know you’re going to be blessed with many MANY things in the coming months, and the years following will be some of your best, but that’s only a taste of what is truly to come.

i’m so proud of you, and i’m also so round of everyone that has been clinging onto shifting even though it hurts. i’m always here for you. i love you all so so much. i want the best for you, and i know you’re going to get it. i’m always here to help in ANY way i can. ask me anything, i promise you i will answer with the wisdom God and the universe has given me!!

i cannot express my gratitude to my father, loki, enough. i don’t know how to even put it into words. he’s been there at my hardest, he’s been there at my best. i don’t think i would actually even be this far without him either. he’s one of the silliest and sweetest people ive ever met. i can’t believe he’s my FATHER you guys!! ITS SO COOL AUGHH

i also have so many people here i need to thank, there’s more that i can think of right now but just know i love and appreciate every one of you guys.

staring with @smellofemale!! you were such a sign when i met you. i don’t think i’ve met a christian shifter — you’re the only one i still talk to if i have! im just so so sooo blessed to have met you. i don’t know what to say, dude! i love you so much. you’re so sweet, so kind, and so inspiring. i love you!

@eneablack although you’re one of my newest friends, you’re another really really inspirational one. you’re so open about your struggles with shifting, even though you’ve had success time and time again. it shows me and many others how shifting sometimes is a hard thing to get used too, even with successes under your belt!

@daisys-reality! if you don’t know them, FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY PLEASE OMGGJAJSN she gives some of the best and most accurate readings i could ever ask for. also her drs (specifically her mermaid one) have inspired me so much!!

@kanachaka UR AO COOL BRO I JS LOVE SEEING UR POSTS AJSJDKDJD

@kazylynn i love u sm!! u rlly show me i can be an inspiration to others, and that’s something i’ve hoped for all my life. i want to be a good, helpful person — and i love you for showing me i can be.

@babybearthepsychic a few months ago you gave me a free reading that was just so accurate and so real. i don’t know if i would still be on this spiritual journey without it, because i was at one of my hardest points then. i cannot believe how just truly accurate and kind you are. i love you so much, you’re doing amazing. i wish i could give you the biggest hug, and i could donate like a million dollars to u rn but i literally don’t have a job 😭

@zipperrants i don’t think i rlly need to explain this… dude i thought u we’re so cool even when u we’re js interacting with @maddies-chronicles and i rlly wanted to interact w u so bad but i was so so scared bro!! and thank u hale for giving me the opportunity to meet them!!

@accidentalshifter YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MANY PEOPLE U REPRESENT IN THIS RESLITY — YOURE ONE OF THE FIRSR ADULT SHIFTERS I SAW ON HERR AND IM SO SO SO SO SOOO FUCKING HQPPY YOURE SO OPEN ABOUT IT! you’re just so free and it’s beautiful. i love you so much

and there are so many more but i just.. im gonna cry i love you all tooo much.. please know u all mean so much to me and i can’t wait to tell u so many stories when i get back, and help u guys shift. i am working so hard to post more, and i pray this post can help me become more active.

so so so much love, to everyone in this community, you’re so wonderful. may the gods bless you.

so much love, peace and joy

the abyss

[yourlocalstranger123]

[I was bored and wanted to take a break from writing....something 😳 👀💧]

The yandere sagau side: it's exactly the same but just a little too obsessed. They worship you, giving you sacrifices offerings. You couldn't exactly see since you have a limit to see what they offer you. You just maybe it's an item that has a shape of a human. Who knows... the experimenters like dottore and Albedo will work together to create a body for you that is made on the details of the ancient script. Ei/raiden would make the body eternity, Zhongli would put protection on it, Venti would give the blessing of the wind to alarm you of the danger and Nahida would give you knowledge since you only just protect and make people safe and ofc make them feel warm. So you don't know what's happening 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♀️🤷 and they made sure the body could at least withstand most of your power.

● Morax first felt a little alert. 'Who are you?' 'What do you want?' He was confused. He never felt a presence that felt more godly than the celestials themselves. He felt stiff. He asked the others if they felt this...presence. They say yes but it seems to have no harm. He couldn't risk it, he was still on high alert. But when the moment he was fighting, he felt protected, stronger too. Are you perhaps helping him..? Why? He did not worship you if you were a God of some kind. After the war, he cried, cried loudly as the people of liyue can hear his pain and the cries of his roaring. Suddenly he felt your presence once again but stronger. Were you here to attack him? "SHOW YOURSELF!" He yelled. Still no answer. Weird....he laid down then continued softly sobbing, mourning of his friend's death. He felt comforted though, he tried keeping it away from him, this 'comfort' feeling. But slowly he melted into it. Sleeping soundly. He felt safe. When he woke up he saw his friends, were they actually alive? Is this perhaps an illusion you made to taunt him? His knees went weak. 'No matter, even if this is fake, please...just let him hold them one more time..even if it's not real.' He actually woke up. He looked sad, as he was about to accept the death of his friends, he sees all of them. Even the yakshas came back alive. He saw Xiao on his knees sobbing in happiness. Is this your doing?...thank you..thank you so much. Truly. He accepted you. Your kindness. He made everyone know you, well the only people who didn't know you was the one who has no vision. The yaksha knows you, well only your doings and presence. They can also feel it. They worshiped you, and give you things. They weren't rich so they could only give you simple things like flowers but it didn't matter to you. They could feel the warmth grow bigger. They smiled. They wonder if you smiled back at them? Your truly a wonderful God. Slowly everyone in liyue finds out your the creator somehow and they worshiped you even more. Everyone who had one felt your presence even more. They felt very happy, truly they are blessed to have you as their creator. When Zhongli abandoned his duty as a archon, he still worshiped you. Although not fancy as it used to but he felt that you were still happy with these simple offerings. Everyone in liyue was so very happy. Azhada also felt it. He was set free and when Zhongli tried to make him go back, there was a note before he could attack. "He deserves a second chance. Let him experience the wonderful things in life. To: Rex Lapis" he was confused, was this the Morax he knew? His heart grew soft as he read the letter. Suddenly he felt his form start to change. He panicked and looked into the river. He looked like a mortal. Although he must give you credit for your taste. In the future, he brags on and on that you made a form for him. "Shall the Geo protect you with its heart."

● Heck, even the celestials were concerned and a little scared of you. 'What are you?' They thought. You felt familiar but yet not so familiar either. 'Are you an outlander?' Later they got used to it. They thought maybe you were a Supreme God that is watching over them, in the past, they were on guard. Waiting for you to strike. But....they felt a safe feeling, an addictive feeling. 'Who are you? Why are you so...nice?' Until it clicked. Are you...the creator? If you're not then why are you so nice to them?? But it does not matter no more. They will welcome and worship you even if you are a God who is an out-lander

I was too lazy. Oh well, thus is just for practice.

[rahuratna]

Heyyyyyy 🫶

So I was thinking about how the relationship would be with Nanami and a low maintenance partner. Low maintenance as in

- not Gojo is the first thing that came into mind LOL 😂

- values simplicity and is already very content with just being in the presence of Nanami, no matter the activity. Like cleaning together or just resting on the couch together

- probably a homebody like Nanami, doesn’t need expensive gifts or to go out on fancy dates

etc etc… basically someone with similar interests (cooking, drinking, reading, staying in, according to the JJK fan book) and chill energy level as a Nanami

I bring this up because it’s typically the grumpy x sunshine or black cat x golden retriever pairings, but I haven’t seen much of a chill homebody x chill homebody duo. Maybe I don’t read enough or maybe because there wouldn’t be much of a plot line other than the two characters just snoozing in bed or staying in and watching movies or enjoying simple domesticity… but that’s honestly my definition of ultimate happiness 😂 😂

Maybe on the outside it would seem boring to others but I’d like to think (for my sake) this type of relationship would have its own special type of quirks and connection.

What do you think? 👀

@courtneedsleep Gojo 😂😂😂 God, I LIVE for easy going, low maintenance relationships. I'm pretty much a homebody myself, so it bleeds a lot into my writing, whether I'm writing a pairing or not. I love describing cosy settings, creature comforts, food, things that are nostalgic or provide a sense of comfort.

My headcanon is that this kind of relationship would be very comforting to Nanami, and one he enjoys immensely. As someone who does work a fairly stressful job, I value the moments of calm, when I can simply exist in a beautiful space, do physical things, like cooking, gardening or going on a long drive, activities where you can switch off and go into autopilot. Having a partner who can match that energy and is comfortable with it is a blessing.

There is beauty in muted physical contact, touching someone to simply remind yourself that they're here, with you. The little unique sounds and scents that belong to them, the way they clear their throat or shuffle their feet, the weight of their head in your lap, the tiny changes in their facial expression as they read something; these are all the small, but precious treasures of intimacy, the sweetness of companionship. Nanami strikes me as the quiet, but observant man who would find so much value in those aspects, as would his partner.

As much as Nanami states clearly that during his time as a salaryman, he thought of little else besides making money, there's a strong contextual side to this that can't be ignored. He was never after luxury, he just wanted to ensure a simple, ordinary and comfortable life for himself, one he could pursue free from the stresses and tragedies that had been heaped upon him.

Being as pragmatic as he is, he would have been fully aware of the value of money in providing that for himself. For Nanami, it was never about the wealth, or some kind of high status lifestyle. Money was a means to an end. This is why I'm convinced that the most precious aspects of Nanami's relationship with a partner would be the myriad small experiences he has alongside them, from sharing books, to lazy commentary on a movie on a Sunday afternoon, to baking a loaf of bread together, to drinking coffee on the balcony on a quiet morning with the same sun on his skin and theirs. These are the things he'd love.

Nanami strikes me as a man who values his space and privacy, and that sharing it with someone else would require a very high level of trust. Sharing space with Nanami would be the equivalent of dusting out that high, unreachable shelf in his heart, and occupying your rightful position there. I do think that someone like him would want their partner to understand the significance of opening their homes and lives to each other, in the simplest of ways, ways that he will always cherish and never take for granted.

I think that a partner like this, who can provide that safe shelter away from the storm, who creates a space for Nanami to grow as an individual, who is comfortable in the warm silence of true companionship, who treasures those golden hours of calm repose, would be someone Nanami would definitely consider spending the rest of his life with.

His heart is an ordered garden, but when you wander long enough, the wild flowers that bloom in sweet silence are the rarest and most beautiful.

Thanks for another lovely ask! They give me so much joy 🌻🌻💛💛

[acotarfrustrations]

An ongoing list of acowar grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them)

1) Feyre's constant edginess. It's such a bizarre and ham-fisted shift in the voice of the character from the previous book. Too much tell, not enough show

2) "that they thought Rhysand could ever force someone . . . I added that to the long list of things to repay them for.".........lol OK girl

3) Feyre all of a sudden knowing how to use every power she has despite her very limited "training"

4) constant mention of Lucien and Elain's mating bond. Not only do I not give a damn, I REALLY wish it wasn't a thing all together

5) CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE IMPORTANCE OF THE MORTAL QUEENS TO ME? WHO TF EVEN ARE THEY?? It's so stupid that they don't get brought up until feyre is a fae like we have no clue the humans even have an overarching government until she's not human anymore. Why are they turning them Fae? What possible advantages can they grant the fae that they don't have already? How tf are there so many queens when the human territory is so small? For that matter, why tf is Hybern going to war over a tiny handful of humans? Why involve this convoluted plot with turning the mortal queens into Fae when it seems like the humans don't even know of their existence so they wouldn't listen to or follow them in the first place

6) this should be dual pov. I would LOVE tamlin's perspective or even lucien's

7) I need WAY more information about the cauldron because it makes no sense

8) this isn't a gripe but I just have to mention how bad I feel for lucien

9) somehow ianthe became 10x MORE boring as a villain. Like you could replace her woth Regina George and the book would be more interesting

10) WHY IS THERE SO MUCH SEXUAL ASSAULT, OH MY FUCKING GOD

11) this whole spying on the spring court thing is stupid, inefficient, and childish. The NC is risking the lives of all the courts doing this shit when they could easily just ACTUALLY TELL THE OTHER COURTS WHATS GOING ON TO GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO RALLY TOGEYHER AND DEFEND THEMSELVES, form an alliance, and reason with tamlin or attack him if he refuses to listen to reason. Most information they stand to gain from what they're doing is useless in light of how many fae and human lives stand to be lost or displaced

12) WE FUCKING GET IT FEYRE! THERE ARE TWO WOLVES INSIDE YOU! BENEATH YOUR SKIN YOU ARE A WOLF, A MOUNTAIN LION, A PANTHER, A COBRA, A TARANTULA, A BALD EAGLE, AND EVERY OTHER KIND OF PREDATOR UNDER THE SUN!!!!! JFC I GET SYMBOLISM BUT ITS GETTING CRINGE IN HERE

13) that entire ridiculous summer solstice scene in chapter 4

14) FEYRE COMPARING TAMLIN TO ARAMANTHA?! HELLO???????

15) the whole situation with using Lucien to make tamlin jealous is just....icky, idk

16) I almost regret wanting more political intrigue In these novels as it is by far Sarah Janet's weakest suit

17) framing jurian a villain is one of the dumbest decisions ever. Wish he had more screen time though

18) feyre's badass scene w/ the children of the blessed makes me wish that after she became fae, she returned to the human lands, killed/overthrew the mortal queens, said fuck you to tamlin and rhys, and just became queen of the mortal realms, having to earn her people's trust as a fae, protect and defend them, and come to terms w/ her loss of humanity. That would have been so EPIC

19) the entirety of chapter 8

20) the fact that acotar was written. If the series started w/ acomaf I would have a lot less problems. All the constant retconning and inconsistencies in canon and worldbuilding just keep pissing me off, idk I can't look past it

21) I'm losing count and I'm only on chapter 9 so I'm just going to keep reading for now. Might make a part 2 idk

[chernabogs]

Stasis

Inc: Lilia, Malleus (egg), Maleficia WC: 2k Warnings: C7 spoilers (heavy), discussions of death/rot Summary: To wrap that child in his magic, to lull him into a gentle rest until the time is right and he can come into a world where he knows no death—is that not the greatest act of kindness? The greatest act of love? (i wrote this then went a lil goofy)

There is a glorification of dying in battle that is so deeply ingrained in their culture, that one would think it was woven in with the clay and the magic that was used to create them. It’s as though the gods, when their hands were forming mouths to scream and eyes to weep, asked those very first Fae;

so, how shall you decay? how shall you crumble to these foundations, of which I build you on so gently?

And when the Fae did not speak—for voices had not yet been given—those very same creators deemed that only through sword and through arrow could a noble death be found. Perhaps that is why they failed to grant immunity to those who were expunged from the Otherworld—discarded to the realms of man like naked, starving wraiths, scrambling in the shadows to build up the foundations of life in a mockery of their own creation. 

The descendants of that first generation feast off the bounty of those struggles with a never satiated hunger. Lilia knows; he bore witness to it first-hand in youth. Tattered memories remain in the scarce edges of his mind of who the two that raised him were before the collapse. There are moments by the ocean, where baby-blue waves kiss pale feet and sand dots raven hair, and there are moments in the night, where a large hand holds his own as he looks up to the stars that represent the Fae long passed. 

These are marred by the aftermath of greed. Rather than sand dotting raven hair, it becomes bone fragments, with red waves now kissing pale feet instead. A large hand is stiff and cold in his own as he looks at a slack-jawed face with half-hooded eyes that are as blue now and as bright as the stars he once admired. He cannot recall how long he sat there—perhaps until the pungent smell of rot finally drove him to leave. 

They did not have a noble death. They went like a cacophony, screaming and begging until those sounds were silenced by a singular fracture to a fragile bone. 

There is a glorification of dying in battle. 

Perhaps this is why she decides it will be the way she goes. She has always burned so brilliantly, her light engulfing every space she enters and drawing the masses to her. But those who burn so bright are blind to the way that brilliance consumes their flesh as well, and he knows it’s this mindset that drives her to the end—although he will never admit it aloud. 

But it’s the silence after the end that’s the worst. The family is granted the right to see the body first—now that the body has been retrieved, of course—and he’s blessed that Maleficia considers him family enough. The grand chamber of Black Scale Palace is uncannily silent and therefore makes the steps he takes sound like thunder rumbling across the stone. He spies the egg in her arms, cradled close to her chest as her hand runs a slow, soothing motion over its mottled shell. It shouldn’t be mottled—but he wagers that the trauma of the past few days has done a degree of damage, even if small. 

“They did their best.” Maleficia’s voice is quiet as he stops a few feet back. It isn’t out of courtesy—he’s invaded her space many times before—but more out of fear. He does not want to see the body he knows is lying in the stone tomb just ahead. “There was not much to salvage, though.” 

“They left her there for days.” Lilia’s voice sounds foreign to himself as he clasps his hands tightly behind his back. It had been a hard-fought battle (were they not all hard fought?) to retrieve those remains. They had been rotting on the bridge in the meantime—Heinrich’s additional snub to the royal family. He pauses for a moment before tentatively asking, “To what extent was the damage?” 

Maleficia is silent for a moment longer as her hand slowly strokes the eggshell. Lilia considers that she’s doing it more to comfort herself than the child within. “They took her horns, in addition to a few other parts.” 

The statement turns over in Lilia’s mind as he finally takes those last few steps closer. He draws to a stop next to Maleficia, glancing up at her towering form for only a scarce moment, before forcing his gaze down to the body before them. 

They had wrapped her in a shroud. The white fabric sits oddly on her, and he can see truth in the Queen’s words—there are no horns to be covered. Instead, the crown she would have worn upon ascending is resting upon her brow, and the torc around her neck holds the shroud fast in position. He cannot smell rot due to the excess of roses put in the tomb as well, and yet the sickly sweet scent still makes his stomach turn, still makes him draw back. 

The last time he had seen her she had been lively, throwing her egg to him and laughing as she prepared to dispatch those who dared defy her. Now there is an eerie stillness about her that is unbecoming of who Meleanor Draconia is. His gaze draws down the length of her body, at the plain white robe they dressed her in, and the hands that are folded over her abdomen. Her skin is gray, and he can see where the funerary workers attempted to conceal the spots of decay already taking place. 

People often believe that, when a Fae dies, they return to the clay and the magic that had crafted them. Lilia remembers the two who raised him telling him tall tales such as that, until their bodies had begun to turn to sludge and he realized that there was no clay, or magic, or grand departure at all. The Fae are no better than humans when it comes to death—all rot and gas and empty spaces in the hearts of the living. 

“We cannot permit this to continue. We cannot lose anyone else.” Maleficia’s voice draws his attention once more as he looks up to her. Despite the stoic expression on her face, he can see exhaustion in her bloodshot gaze. She looks to be both a queen and a woman who has gone through hell in the past few weeks. To have lost a daughter, a son, and to be holding your entire world in your arms with no reassurance of its survival…

He feels his throat tighten. No.He has shed his tears already in the darkness of the barracks, the burning sting of alcohol and a frigid metal mug as his only companions. He cannot fall before her because he cannot allow her to see all that she has left crumble. He digs his nails into his palms and ignores the way this may draw blood as he looks back to the body. 

Quiet. So quiet. 

And then… an idea. Perhaps outrageous, perhaps suicidal, but perhaps also the most efficient idea they have. The mottled egg in the queen's arms retains its faint, magical glow—the dimming powers of its parent’s love—and Lilia feels a pull to preserve that for as long as he can. He did not care for children, but he did care—does care—for Meleanor and Levan. 

So, he speaks. 

“We cannot let it hatch.” His voice is blunt and dry as he looks at the egg. It quivers, as though hearing the weight behind his words, as Maleficia’s hold on it tightens. She doesn’t immediately object. Instead, she frowns.

“Speak.” She commands, and he does. 

“Raising an heir in these conditions would be nothing short of damnation. We know not of how long this will drag on for, nor what the end will be. If we can keep the heir—keep Malleus—in his egg, preserve him until it is safe enough for him to be raised...” Lilia’s voice trails off as Maleficia continues to observe him dispassionately. Her hand does still in consideration, however.

“Like a sleep.” She hums softly, the motion then resuming. “A peaceful sleep, full of lullabies and warmth, until it is safe enough for him to greet the world. Much akin to what the Thorn Witch did, no?”

Lilia nods at her words. “Precisely. A stasis position until we are sure nothing will befall him... nor will he be dragged into conflict. I speak for us both when I say we are tired of witnessing our loved ones in conflict.”

Maleficia does not reply immediately as she continues to stare at her daughter’s body. The empty tomb next to her full one, meant to resemble the husband who is presumed to have been lost as well, speaks loud in the absence of sound.

“It will require a tremendous amount of power.” She finally adds. “Power I cannot give just yet. There is too much happening right now for me to split myself in such a manner.”

Lilia knew she would say as much before the words even left her lips. She is now the sole royal remaining in Briar Valley; even with the support of other Fae, all is on her shoulders at this moment. The well-being of the nocturnal Fae, the preservation of their lands, the concerns of the colonizing happening on the shores. She is drawn so thin that she is fraying at the very seams.

“Is it not fortunate,” he muses quietly, hands still clasped behind his back, nails still digging in his palms. He can feel warm liquid smearing his skin. “That you have me?”

Green eyes snap towards him with an expression of both outrage and shock, the most emotive he has seen her for a while. It then smooths over to composed indifference once more as she takes a levelled breath. “You do not owe that.”

“It was by my absence she fell.” He replies tersely, knowing this is a lie. He had fought tooth and nail to try and stay with Meleanor, but she had driven him back with lightning and taunts, forcing him to swear to protect her son. He is protecting her son by doing this. To wrap that child in his magic, to lull him into a gentle rest until the time is right and he can come into a world where he knows no death—is that not the greatest act of kindness? The greatest act of love?

So, he fibs, if not just a little. “Permit me to do this. For her, and for him.”

There’s a vagueness in who he means by him. Maleficia looks upon him for a long moment as he lowers his gaze to the onyx floors beneath their feet. For a moment he fears that she will strike him down as her daughter had done so often, until he hears shifting, and she extends the egg she’s been cradling so possessively towards him.

“Take the... take Malleus, to the lower chambers. Do as you must, as I will not burden you with the consequences—for I presume you have thought on this quite extensively already.”

He looks up to her. The face he had seen many times now since she pulled him off the streets and into her home is fracturing, with traces of sorrow beginning to show. She has always been vulnerable to him, to her daughter, and he knows it to be a rare privilege. He extends his hands and takes the egg, his bloody palms soaking its black surface.

“I swear to you—” he begins, but she cuts him off as she turns away.

“You have given enough to me. More than I have the right to take.” Her voice is cold and formal again as he nods, giving her a low bow before beginning to leave. As he does, she speaks up once more, her tone quieter now than before. “She went a noble death. They both did.”

Lilia pauses as the words play in his mind and his grip tightens around the egg. He can feel its warmth, as though he can feel her love through it, before he leaves that sickly-sweet smelling chamber without a backwards glance.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

In the Sea of Glass

Author's Note: More of Catius in Living Waters AU. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Catius is glad to reunite with Cedric, although he wishes he hadn't met that really scary and grumpy Chao Death Guard.

Warnings: None as far as I know. Let me know if you need me to add anything.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Being menaced by a really large Death Guard had been… anxiety inducing- he was glad that Cedric had come swiftly to help patch him up and take him away from the scowling Chaos Marine. There was an undercurrent of menacy and sickly sweet decay coming from the Nurgle Chaos Marine that had him cling closer to Cedric. Who thankfully held him just as closely, mostly carrying him to a safer location.

He listens as Cedric tells him that he'd met up with Claude- and once the Raven Guard Primaris Scout appears he gives him a grateful smile, "I'm glad to see both of you once more."

"It's good to see you again." Claude says, carefully giving him a hug- mindful of his injuries as he helps Cedric get Catius into a more comfortable position.

It will take a while for his wounds to heal- and he's to "stay put and rest." Those were the firm orders he'd gotten from Cedric who had used his Apothecary Voice on him.

As he doesn't have anywhere to be, and no orders or missions to do, he'd agreed easily. He'd help organize the cave that Claude and Cedric were sharing, counting supplies that they had pooled together and creating a list of supplies that they needed, supplies that they have, supplies that were nice to have, but not necessary.

He learns from Claude and Cedric that he's on Ancient Terra- and that while there are shoals of various chapters, Loyalist, Renegade, and Chaos alike. Not all of them are from the same time. They seem to come from all parts of the time line, from just the end of the Unification Wars, to their most current time, which is after the Primaris Roll out.

It takes a while for him to wrestle with that information and fully understand what that means. The implications of it, he gets to greet and inform Ramiel of when and where they are as well. Who- from the wounds on his chest- and accross his body, he'd come to Ancient Terra as he died in Cedric's arms.

Catius bows his head and prays in thanks to the Mercy of the God Emperor for bringing back Ramiel, and his treacherous, greedy hearts wonder if perhaps some of his brothers that were with him in complete and utter hell, that they would be able to be found and rescued. He is determined to recover- and help Ramiel recover.

He tries not to get too hopeful with his fellow Primaris Ultramarines abandoned by Captain Sicarius in the Warp will be found in time. If they have also been given this blessed second chance. He scratches one of his cheeks as he continues doing what he can, while stuck in a cave.

It's very boring, this recovery business and not having paperwork to help whittle away his time. He does use his time to watch over Ramiel, who's mostly sleeping off his wounds and making sure that Ramiel doesn't become feverish, and doing his best to make sure that Ramiel doesn't hurt himself in his screaming nightmares.

Catius is glad when Jophiel, Claude, and Cedric come back with stories of what they've been doing out of the cave, bringing him supplies to double check the quality of add carefully add to the supplies list that he'd created and updates. Making sure to carefully label and put things in its proper place.

When Jophiel starts talking about Lenora and Erriox- and how they were treating him, he's both glad and worried. Glad that his brother's gotten some guidance from older folks, who seem to be kind. Catius had heard the excited rants from Jophiel about "the Adoption ceremony that he'd gone through a couple of months later with Erriox and Lenora, and how he'd felt so loved and safe- and how Catius and the others should really, really come meet them. They are amazing and wonderful and lovely and safe."

"I'll think about it," Catius had told, mostly amused with Jophiel's antics.

When Cedric started talking about a couple of older Black Templars that he'd met- at first Catius had been alarmed and concerned. But the longer Cedric continued to meet with them, and how no wounds, mental or physical appeared on Cedric, the more cautious optimistic he'd become. Especially once Ramiel and he fully recovered and started to go out to hunt and gather things for their squad.

Ramiel also started to talk about Arnault and Roland and how Amazing they were and how he really should meet with them he'd pointed out, "I'm an Ultramarine- and most Older Black Templars, for reasons both sensible and not don't like my Chapter- what with certain… bad blood between them. I don't want to upset them… Or make them demand of you an 'us or them' scenario."

"I don't think they'd do that," Cedric protested.

"… Let me think on it," Catius replied- he'd had several protests and words he'd like to say, but now wasn't the time to get into an arguement and upset Cedric and Ramiel about potential conflicts that could be avoided by him not meeting Arnault and Roland.

Hopefully Cedric and Ramiel will drop this line of thinking. Although, he knows exactly how stubborn his brother-cousins can be, and know that they will back off on this issue for a while, before pestering him about it again. Jophiel had gotten Claude, Ramiel, and Cedric to meet Lenora and Erriox.

The things he heard about the adoptive parents of all them, had him amused and glad for them. He'd been concerned at first when they'd told him that Erriox is an Iron Warrior- but as he's a loyalist and in the ensuing months, none of them had been harmed by the First Born, tenatively he decided that Erriox could be safe.

He'd be able to get more of a full measure of who he is and what he's about when he meets Erriox and Lenora, as well and Roland and Arnault when he meets them personally. But for some reason his hearts race and his helmet tries to lock on for potential threats when he thinks about meeting any of them for some reason. He needs to find the source of this weakness and purge himself of it.

[fareehaandspaniards]

Gremia as a core concept (of all things)

So, I've been seeing mentions for a long time that the name Gremia can be found quite often in cut content. We have: Altar of Gremia

as well as Tomb of Gremia and Chapel of Gremia. As well as Gremia's Blood Hunter Set.

Let me just put a link on the website - Here

Also, the Madman's set was called the Gremia Set. As was Forgotten Madman, which has internal name Madman of Gremia.

So where do we stand with this? Gremia in the early concepts of the game was either a land or a Great One, or maybe both. But that it was the Great One is confirmed by the Tomb and Chapel locations. Gremia existed in the lore of the game before Oedon took its place.

Based on the fact that Gremia's altar is a female, I can also assume that the deity it was associated with was female?

Bonus justification for this is the roots of the name Gremia. As @fantomette22 pointed out, the name Gremia is most likely a variation of “Jeremiah”, which is a strong reference to King Jeremiah from DS3, which in turn is a reference to Old Monk from Demon's Souls, which in turn is a reference to LOVECRAFT. Uh-huh. “The King in Yellow.”

Jeremiah is a prophet, his name literally translates as “the Lord will exalt” or “the Exalted One” (And also “may the Lord exalt”, “the height of God”). But he is also a “weeping prophet” and also “Blessed Theodoret even calls him ‘the mother of Jerusalem’ for his truly maternal love,” suggesting that the Great One who bore the name Jeremiah (Gremiah) may well have been female.

Where is our wonderful, popular and universally loved NPC located? In the Chalice of Izs, on the call for Ebrietas! And you can also find Ebrietas in Yharnam by going up through the Chapel of Oedon (Gremia). There feels a kind of connection, as if one comes from the other. It really does feel like that!!!

Also what do we know about Ebrietas? She is a mourner. And when a player finds her, she is crying over something outwardly resembling Rom (but with a couple of differences). And the prophet Jeremiah comes to mind again, weeping and mourning. Perhaps the Great One Gremia looked the same way Rom looks, for Gremia is “exalted” like Rom.

There is a parallell between Gremia and Ebrietas, and since Gremia may be a female deity, we can assume that Gremia is the mother (/father??? both???) of Ebrietas!

It's worth noting that out of all the NPCs with default faces, Gremia is the one with that face that can be seen and considered unlike Annalise, Eileen. So I can safely say that this face is his. And it just so happens to be the one that is taken as the “default” face.

So we have a regular NPC, the Tomb Proscpector in the Chalice of Izs, who bears the name of the Great One, summons to Ebrietas, and serves as the basis for all other faces when creating a character. (aaand has uniiique baaatle style)

Bottom line: Gremia is Sky and mother of Ebrietas. Sky and Cosmos are one! And his face is supposed to be worn by the hunter of Yharnam. That is, the hunter is the reincarnation of the lost Great One, an echo of whom wanders in the Chalice of Izs (or once did). It turns out that Gremia is reborn time after time to end the Nightmares of Yharnam 😎

[2nd2ndalto]

what if there were two (side by side in orbit)

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(prologue here)

Chapter 1

September 1998

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Thank you SO much for your kind comments & encouragement on the prologue! Several of you commented/engaged both here AND on ao3, and while that is certainly not expected or required, you now have my undying love whether you want it or not <3

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Will blinks his eyes open to the dull buzz of fluorescents as the elevator chimes and jolts to a stop. It’s only three stories up, but he thinks he came close to dozing off on the short ascent. He hitches his bag over his shoulder and heads down the hallway, thinking only of parking himself in front of the TV and descending into a fugue state for the remainder of the evening.

“Hey!” Kayla says as Will opens the door. She gives him a gentle shove on her way through to the kitchen, and Will sways a little, catching himself against the wall. “You look like shit!”

“Thanks,” Will huffs. He drops his bag on the floor, hangs his coat, then squeezes around his sister in the little kitchen to wash his hands – the only remaining obligation before he can become one with the couch.

Kayla’s traded her business attire for a pair of leggings and a band tee, clearly having already been home for a while. Her red hair is gathered in a messy knot at the crown of her head, and she’s stirring something on the stove, fragrant and tomato-y. Will eyes it longingly, hoping she made enough for two. “You’re home late,” Kayla remarks. “Have a hot date?”

“Yeah, right. I was marking papers. Lost track of time.”

Kayla hums, disappointed. “Not hanging out with that hot firearms instructor I met when I picked you up last week?”

Will frowns, mentally scanning through faces and names to determine who Kayla might even be talking about. He grabs a glass from the cupboard, filling it from the tap and downing it in several large gulps. He can’t think of a single hot person he encounters day to day. Then he rolls his eyes, remembering. “Definitely not. Anyway, he’s not hot. And I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

Kayla shrugs, eyes sparkling. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right guy. Sounds like an extracurricular project for you.”

“Oh my god,” Will mutters. “Some of us are actually at work to work, you know.” He makes his way into the living room, dropping heavily onto the couch and throwing an arm over his eyes. Hearing Kayla settle in the armchair a few minutes later, he shifts his arm to look at his sister. Kayla winks at him. She looks just as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she did when she left this morning. Will feels a pang of affection for his sister.

They hadn’t always been close, growing up, their four years’ age difference just a little too vast in childhood for a close bond. But they’ve grown closer in adulthood, enough to move to DC together – Will to join the FBI and Kayla as she began work as a congressional aide. Will’s so very grateful for her staunch and sunny presence in his life, especially after the somewhat grueling day he’s just had.

“How about you? Good day? Any hot dates?” Will asks.

Kayla raises an eyebrow. “Yes and yes. Spent most of the day in a phenomenally boring congress session, but then Lou Ellen and I took an extended lunch break.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him.

Will huffs out a laugh. “Well, good for you. At least one of us is making new friends. I spent the morning teaching postmortem examination of the gastrointestinal cavity and the afternoon trapped in the stupidest budget meeting you could imagine.”

“Could have been an email?”

“Could have been three post-its,” Will says tiredly.

It turns out Kayla has made enough dinner for two, bless her, and an hour later Will is feeling somewhat more like himself, feet propped on the coffee table and a beer in hand while he half-listens to Kalya’s spirited heckling of Law & Order.

“What’s your start time tomorrow?” Kaya asks at the commercial break, turning down the volume and leaning forward to stretch. Will hears the pop of a vertebrae or two and Kayla groans in satisfaction. “Maybe I can give you a ride in.”

Will nods. “Yeah, that would be great, actually. I don’t need to be there until ten, but I can go whenever you’re ready.”

Ally McBeal is starting up, and Kayla turns back to the TV. Will sighs, dropping his head against the back of the couch. “I’m wiped. I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Aww c’mon,” Kayla protests, “don’t you want to find out if Ally gets together with Dr. Butters?”

Will snorts. “I’ll pass. I’m just gonna check my work email and then turn in.”

Kayla frowns at him disapprovingly and Will waves her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But if there’s something I can deal with immediately I’d rather just do it now.”

Will settles himself at his desk, flicking the computer on. His gaze drifts back to his sister as he waits for the machine to boot up. Kayla’s looking completely relaxed, eyes fixed on the screen and sparkling with interest at the drama unfolding in front of her.

Nothing really seems to knock Kayla off balance for more than a moment. Will, conversely, feels eternally on the edge of a breakdown, never quite getting there but never completely pulling back either. His moods swing darker than Kayla’s, his silences longer and more dour. Sometimes he worries about what will happen to him when Kayla inevitably finds a partner and moves out.

It’s not that Will’s not satisfied with his work. Sometimes it just feels… dragging. Repetitive. It shouldn’t – he’s only been teaching at Quantico for two years. But he can’t quite shake the feeling that maybe this isn’t it for him. Maybe this isn’t what he’s meant to be doing with his life.

Windows plays its little chiming welcome noise and Will turns back to the computer with a sigh. He clicks through a few folders, hearing the modem screech and click as it connects to the outside world. A few more clicks and he’s logging into his FBI email.

There are already a handful of new messages – frustrating since Will only left the office a few hours ago. Nothing urgent, at least. He’s just about to shut the computer down when there’s a ding alerting him of a new email. He glances at it and then frowns, suddenly more alert.

He reads through the email once, then twice more to make sure he’s understood.

“Huh,” Will says, a mess of emotions fluttering in his chest before the feeling settles into curiosity. Maybe hope.

“What’s up?” Kayla asks, turning. “You miss a key part of the gastrointestinal cavity?”

Will shakes his head slowly. “No. They’re reassigning me. Apparently I’m done at Quantico.”

::

Will’s sitting outside the assistant director’s office a full fifteen minutes before his appointment time the next morning, one leg jiggling nervously. He dressed extra carefully this morning, his nicest suit and his lucky tie – the one patterned with little tibias and fibulas.

The email he received last night didn’t really provide much information, and now that he’s had a good twelve hours to ruminate on it, he’s a mess. Despite the fact that he hasn’t loved every second of his time at Quantico, he’d thought he was doing well there. Now he’s reconsidering everything, analyzing every hallway conversation, every off-hand comment he ever made to a student. He knows he can be sarcastic sometimes. Maybe someone took something the wrong way. Maybe all of this is his fault.

Is this their subtle way of shifting him out of the Bureau entirely?

Luckily, Will doesn’t have long to catastrophize.

The AD’s assistant clears her throat. “Assistant Director Ramirez-Arellano will see you now, Agent Solace.”

Will stands up, too fast, ignoring the mildly amused look on the assistant’s face. He nods at her, polite and steps into the large office behind her. Huge windows overlook the traffic zipping by in the tree-lined streets below. It’s bright out – cobalt blue September sky without a hint of cloud.

“Agent Solace. Please have a seat.” Assistant Director Ramirez-Arellano nods to the chair in front of her desk and Will complies, nervous. There are two other more senior Bureau officials seated with the AD as well. They’re both vaguely familiar, but Will doesn’t think he could name them.

The AD regards Will, her dark eyes inscrutable. Will doesn’t know Ramirez-Arellano well, but any time he’s interacted with her she’s been pleasant enough. Never warm, certainly not friendly, but professional. Reasonable. Will thinks she must only be a few years older than he is, but there’s something ageless about her. Regal. Her posture pristine, dark hair flawless.

It can’t have been easy for her to have risen through the ranks at the Bureau as quickly as she has, being non-male and non-white. That’s sure to require a certain toughness, Will thinks. As much as the FBI tries to sell themselves otherwise, the Bureau is very much an old boys’ club. It’s something that’s always grated on Will, contributing to the feeling he might never fully belong here – being neither old nor quite boy enough.

“Thank you for meeting with us today,” the AD says smoothly. “I’m sure you’ve reviewed the email I sent last night?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Will says. He hopes he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels.

Ramirez-Arellano glances down to the file in front of her. “You’ve been with us for just over two years.”

Will nods. “Yes. The Bureau recruited me out of medical school. I’ve been teaching at Quantico since then.”

“And do you enjoy your work?”

It’s a simple question and Will likely isn’t expected to give an exhaustive or particularly truthful answer, but his stomach twists and he can feel heat rising in his face.

Will swallows. “Yes, I – yes. I’ve been enjoying my work. It’s challenging. But rewarding.”

There’s a beat as the AD returns his gaze, and then her eyes flick to the file on her desk again. “Your superiors report that you are an excellent instructor. Thorough. Your students speak highly of you.”

Will nods again, short. Maybe this isn’t a reprimand, then. “Thank you.”

His gaze darts towards the two men sitting behind Ramirez-Arellano. Neither has spoken. Will’s not sure if they’ve blinked.

The AD clears her throat. “Agent Solace, are you familiar with Agent Nico di Angelo?”

Will blinks. “Yes. Um. Only by reputation. He’s an Oxford-educated psychologist who wrote a monograph on serial killers and the occult that helped catch Monte Propps. I believe he was considered to be the best analyst in the Violent Crimes section.”

The AD nods in agreement. “Agent di Angelo has been a valuable asset to the FBI. He has also developed a consuming devotion to a project outside the Bureau mainstream. Are you familiar with the X-Files?”

“I think so,” Will says. “I believe they have to do with unexplained phenomena?”

“More or less,” the AD agrees. “The reason you’re here, Agent Solace, is that we would like you to assist Agent di Angelo on these X-Files. You will assist in investigations, write field reports on your activities, function as di Angelo’s partner. We would also like your observations on the validity of the work.”

The two men sitting at the back of the room are still silent, but Will thinks he hasn’t quite imagined the shift in one of their postures at this statement.

Will takes a second to process what he’s being asked. Field work. That sounds interesting, honestly. He briefly worked in the field as part of his initial training, and occasionally over the last two years he’s been asked to examine a body at a crime scene. He enjoyed it, from his limited experience. Most of his time has been spent cooped up in classrooms and mortuaries. But, wait –

“Am I to understand that you want me to… debunk the X-Files project, ma’am?” Will asks slowly, his stomach sinking.

The AD watches him for a moment. “We trust that you will make the appropriate scientific analysis of these cases, Agent Solace.” She sits up straighter, pushing her chair back. “You’ll want to contact Agent di Angelo today. We look forward to seeing your reports.”

And with that, Will is dismissed. He pauses in the hall outside, uncertain.

Coffee, he decides. Coffee, and then he supposes he’ll introduce himself to his new partner.

Will makes his way down the wide, thickly carpeted hallway, past glossy wood doors, giving a cursory nod to another agent waiting at the bank of elevators. He heads down the stairwell, then through the main entrance and onto the sunny street outside. There’s a little shop on D Street that serves Will’s favorite coffee – a smooth, dark roast – and he decides to take the longer walk there rather than opting for the more popular Dunkin’ across the street. Besides, he reasons, it’ll give him more time to think.

From the little Will can recall, he’s heard positive things about di Angelo. He must have been a couple of years ahead of Will at the Bureau, but Will had been busy with medical school, so they’re likely near the same age. He vaguely remembers di Angelo’s nickname at the Academy - Spooky. And, more recently, Will remembers hearing the occasional off-hand, disparaging remark from some of his colleagues about di Angelo’s area of interest. But Will’s never paid much attention to such things. From what he knows of di Angelo’s work, he’s a good agent.

Will returns to the Bureau with his coffee, still nervous, but a little excited too. As he settles into the idea, he realizes he really is ready to try something new, get out there and do some work in the real world.

Waiting in line to pass through security, it occurs to Will that he’s not sure where di Angelo’s desk is. Most of the agents are in a vast, open-plan area on the second floor with floor-to-ceiling windows. A busy, lively place. Will’s not crazy about working in a cubicle farm, but he supposes he’ll manage.

He pauses at the directory to look for di Angelo’s name. 024. That’s odd, Will thinks. He hasn’t spent a lot of time in the J. Edgar Hoover building, but he hadn’t realized anyone worked in the basement.

There’s only one elevator that descends to the basement, and the doors open to dim lighting, many of the overhead fluorescents burned out or flickering down the narrow hallway. It’s a little eerie.

Will checks the number on a door across from him – 011. He takes a second to survey his reflection in the glass, running a quick hand through his hair. He’s tried to keep it short over the last two years and he’s suddenly painfully aware that he’s probably due for a haircut, dark blond curls beginning to look unruly, especially after his walk outside. He flattens it as best he can, then straightens his tie and jacket. Steels himself.

024 isn’t far. Will takes a deep breath and knocks.

There’s the scrape of a chair and then a voice from within, “Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted.”

Will cracks the door cautiously, peering around it. The space is dim, the overhead lights off and a few surfaces illuminated by desk lamps. The office is roomier than Will had been expecting, but cluttered, lived-in. The aroma of fresh coffee drifts towards the doorway, and Will notices a half-pot on a small cart next to a bulletin board covered in photos and notes. There are stacks of files, books and papers obscuring most surfaces. A poster on the far wall with what looks like a UFO reads I WANT TO BELIEVE.

In the middle of the room, there’s a man hunched over a desk, illuminated by the light falling from the lamp above his head. His dark hair is just a little over-long, falling onto his forehead. He seems to be focused on a series of slides.

“Um, hi,” Will says, hesitant, and the man glances up. Dark eyes, fine features. Nice cheekbones. He’s really pretty, Will’s brain tells him unhelpfully, and Will forcefully shoves that thought aside. He takes a few steps into the room, holding out his hand. “I’m Will Solace. I’ve been assigned to work with you.”

Di Angelo stands to return the handshake, his eyes on Will, something like humor there. “Nice to meet you. Who did you piss off to get stuck down here with me?”

“Actually I’m looking forward to working with you. You’re very highly regarded. I’ve heard good things about your work.”

“Really.” di Angelo returns to his seat, not taking his eyes off Will, a hint of amusement still playing on his lips. “Because I was under the impression you were sent down here to spy on me.”

Will blinks, rattled. “If you have any concerns regarding my credentials –”

Di Angelo reaches towards a paperweight at the corner of his desk, pulling a sheet of looseleaf out from under it. The movement is quick and smooth, managing not to upset the many other stacked files and papers. “You’re a medical doctor. You’ve been teaching at the Academy for two years now. You did your undergrad in physics. Einstein’s Twin Paradox, a New Interpretation, William Solace, senior thesis. Now there’s a credential, rewriting Einstein.”

“Did you bother to read it?” Will asks, starting to feel a bit nettled.

Di Angelo raises an eyebrow. “I did. I liked it. It just seems that too often, in my work, the regular laws of physics don’t seem to apply.”

Will’s not sure how to respond to that. They gaze at each other for a long moment. Di Angelo looks away first.

The dark-haired man turns back to his desk, begins digging under a stack of papers, somehow finding what he’s searching for almost immediately. “Why don’t you give me your medical opinion on this.” He glances back at Will, then blinks as if he’s just registered him still standing there. “Have a seat.”

Will takes in the cluttered space, finally selecting a chair topped only by a neat stack of empty file folders. Lifting them, he turns, ready to move them to another surface, then quickly determines there is no other surface.

“Sorry,” di Angelo mutters, standing and taking the folders. “I’m… in the process of reorganizing in here.”

The statement has a ring of untruth to it. Will smiles to himself, relaxing the tiniest bit.

Di Angelo pulls a slide projector from a nearby shelf, positioning it precariously on a stack of books and quickly loading the cartridge. Has he got a whole presentation prepared?

“Want me to get the lights?” Will asks.

Di Angelo glances up, surprised. “Yeah. That would be great.”

Will flicks off the two desk lamps within reach, not trusting himself to clamber over stacks of papers and file boxes to reach the third, especially in the near-dark. He returns to the safety of his chair.

The slide projector clanks, and then a picture materializes on the wall. A young woman, clearly deceased, supine on the ground, low vegetation around the body.

“Karen Swenson, age twenty-one. No obvious cause of death,” di Angelo’s voice comes through the darkness. “There are, however, these distinctive marks on her lower back.” The slide switches. “Can you identify these, Dr. Solace?”

Will leans forward, squinting. The photograph is grainy, washed out. But he can make out several small red marks on the young woman’s back. The marks seem to be in pairs, close together. “Needle punctures, maybe? An animal bite?”

“Mmm,” di Angelo says in consideration. “Maybe.”

The slide changes again, this time to a molecular diagram.

“How’s your chemistry?” di Angelo asks. “This is the substance found in the surrounding tissue.”

Will frowns. “It’s um… it’s organic. I don’t know. Is it some kind of protein?”

“Beats me, I’ve never seen it before either.”

More slides follow, all similar images. Male, age twenty-three, Sturgis, South Dakota. Female, age eighteen, Shamrock, Texas.

“Do you have any theories?” Will asks.

“I have plenty of theories,” di Angelo replies. “None of them are sticking so far.” He turns to face Will, silhouetted in the light from the projector. “Regardless, it’s Bureau policy to label these cases unexplained phenomena and ignore them.”

Will blinks. “That’s… a shame.”

“Yeah,” di Angelo says, a bit softer. “It is.”

There’s a moment of quiet in the office, long enough for Will to wonder if the slideshow has concluded, if he should risk navigating the darkened office to turn the lights back on.

“Have you done much fieldwork, Dr. Solace?” di Angelo asks.

Will frowns. “You um – you don’t need to call me Dr. Solace. I’m not here in a medical capacity. And no, not really. Just my initial training and then the occasional field autopsy.” He thinks the other man is trying to feel him out. He can’t tell yet if he’s passing or failing. “Have you… done a lot of fieldwork?” Will asks.

Di Angelo nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, then turns back to his slide projector. “Karen Swenson,” he circles back to the first slide, “she’s the fourth person in her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances. No leads. When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”

“Well,” Will considers, “Personally, I’d need more information first. Miss Swenson obviously died of something. If that was natural causes, perhaps there was something overlooked in the postmortem. If she was murdered, it’s plausible there was a sloppy investigation. But I find it fantastical to consider that there are any answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there. You just have to know where to look.”

Di Angelo watches him for a moment. “Interesting.”

“So, what’s the status of all these investigations, then?” Will asks, gesturing towards the slide still lighting up the far wall.

Di Angelo finally takes a step further away from the projector, giving Will a clear view of his face. “Cases are still open, but most likely they’ll stay that way until everyone who cared about these kids is dead and gone. The Bureau isn’t interested in putting the money or the manpower into investigating any further. In their eyes, they’ve done what they can. I’s are dotted, t’s are crossed, end of story.”

“There’s just you, then,” Will says slowly.

“Basically, yeah. Until you can convince them I’m not worth their funding either,” di Angelo says lightly.

Will feels his face warming. “Look, I’m not – I just got here, you know? I don’t have a horse in this race one way or another. I just want to do good work.”

Di Angelo considers, and something seems to settle in his expression. “Well,” he allows, “I suppose that’s a good start.”

::

It feels as if they’ve reached a tentative truce, then, and they spend the rest of the morning reviewing files together. A lot of the cases are fascinating. Will can’t help wanting to know more, wanting to puzzle out what might have been missed during previous investigations, thinking of the loved ones still wondering, the people left behind when the FBI leaves town. The more interest Will shows, the more animated his new partner becomes. Maybe he’s a little relieved, Will thinks, that Will hasn’t come down here with an agenda.

They go their separate ways at lunch, but when Will returns to the basement office a bit early, the other man is there already, a stack of papers in his arms when Will opens the door. One desk has been completely cleared.

“I took the liberty of clearing some space for you. If you want,” di Angelo says.

Will blinks, surprised. He hadn’t really expected to feel welcome here yet. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. The other man nods.

Will is warm from his lunchtime walk, and he pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it over the chair that now seems to be his. He surveys the empty expanse of his new desk. Di Angelo is turned away, flipping through a stuffed file drawer.

“So, what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?” Will asks. “Are we reviewing more cases?”

Di Angelo turns, looking mildly surprised.

Will shakes his head. “Oh – sorry. You’re probably in the middle of about a dozen different things. Please, carry on. I can just – I’ll keep orienting myself to the caseload.”

“No,” di Angelo says, and his eyes look brighter now. “You’re right. We should review some more files.”

The dark-haired man turns back to the filing cabinet, plucking several files from the first drawer, then smoothly crouching to pull several more from lower drawers. He skirts the room quickly to grab some papers from the top of a shelf. It’s like a dance, Will thinks, graceful and purposeful.

Di Angelo settles himself back at his desk, copying Will and shedding his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “What do you know about the Philadelphia Experiment?” he asks Will, flipping open a folder.

“Hmm.” Will scrubs a hand through his hair. “Philadelphia Experiment. 1943, I believe?”

Di Angelo nods, looking pleased.

“USS Eldridge was conducting top-secret experiments on invisibility - which of course, is preposterous –” Will begins. He’s teasing, he realizes in surprise, already anticipating the other man’s reaction.

Di Angelo doesn’t disappoint. There’s a sudden sparkle to his eyes. “Preposterous?”

Will smiles, unable to help himself. “Onlookers reported seeing a green glow around the ship –” he wiggles his fingers in the air and di Angelo rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a grin, Will’s pretty sure. “Easily explained as an electrical storm or St. Elmo’s Fire.”

“Both the USS Engstrom and the Eldridge had classified devices on board –”

“Yes, but they weren’t invisibility cloaks or alien tech –”

“Then how do you explain the –”

Their sentences are bumping against each other now, both men grinning.

“The travel speed? Inland canals. The ship wasn’t traveling over open water,” Will says decisively.

“Agent Solace, sailors were fused to the ship,” di Angelo says, incredulous. “Still alive, but their limbs sealed to the metal structure.”

Will shakes his head, still smiling. “Unsubstantiated.”

Di Angelo huffs, but he seems to be enjoying this. Will feels some of the tension release in his shoulders.

The afternoon continues much like this, di Angelo throwing out theories (progressively wilder, Will thinks) and Will shooting them down (“Spontaneous human combustion,” di Angelo says, tossing yet another folder at Will. “Arson,” Will says firmly, pushing the file back, and di Angelo shakes his head, rolling his chair across the office to retrieve yet another file.)

“Crop circles?” Will suggests when there’s a pause in the discussion.

Di Angelo huffs. “Hoax, obviously. Crop triangles though – those are another matter entirely.”

Will blinks. “Crop… triangles?”

Di Angelo regards Will gravely for a moment. Then his lips twitch. Will laughs. He’s joking. At least Will’s mostly sure he’s joking. He looks a little smug, anyway.

Di Angelo turns back to his desk, the hint of a smile still on his face. “I like your tie, by the way,” he says.

Will touches a hand to his tie, surprised. “Thanks. It was a graduation gift from my little brother.”

Di Angelo nods. “Very apropos. I have one with little skulls. It was a gift from my… Frank.”

Will quirks an eyebrow, fully grinning now. “From your Frank?”

Di Angelo shakes his head, looking embarrassed. “My – brother-in-law. For lack of a better term.”

Will opens his mouth, fully intent on learning more about this Frank, but di Angelo stands abruptly.

“Anyway,” he says with finality. “Let me grab the file on Project Mannequin.”

::

They leave for the day together, the hallway even darker at the day’s end. They don’t exchange any words in the elevator, but the atmosphere feels more collegial now, Will thinks. He has a fleeting thought that maybe they might become friends. He hasn’t really made any friends at the Bureau, yet. But he’d like this friendship.

They part ways on the street outside, Will watching the other man walk into the distance for just a moment before turning to walk to the metro station.

::

“Oh, so you have a partner,” Kayla raises an eyebrow at Will over her spaghetti, suggestive. “It’s like that.”

Will rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. You do know that, right?”

“What’s he like?”

Will frowns. “I’m not really sure yet. He was a little hard to read. Seems like a smart guy, though.”

Kayla is quick. “Is he cute?”

Will doesn’t dignify that with a response, pushing back his chair to dig in the fridge for the parmesan.

“Okay, okay,” Kayla says, conciliatory. “Just tell me what he looks like. Young? Old?”

Will grimaces as he shoves a sticky jar of jam out of the way in pursuit of the parmesan behind it. “Young, I guess. Probably about my age. I think we finished undergrad in the same year.”

“I see, I see,” Kayla says, mouth full of pasta. Will returns to the table and shakes the green and red container liberally over his plate. He passes it to his sister when she wiggles her fingers at him.

“Hair?” Kayla asks. “Eyes?”

“Yes,” Will says, stubborn. “He has them.”

Kayla sets the parmesan on the table. “C’mon Will, give me something. I had the most mind-numbing day you can imagine, sitting in public relations briefings. Give me all the hot FBI gossip.”

Will snorts. “Fine. Um. He has dark hair, a bit longer than mine. Kind of… wavy. I think he’s Italian. Maybe. I don’t know, Kayla,” he laughs.

“Skinny? Fat? Short? Tall? Snappy dresser? Look like he works out?” Kayla prompts, eyes sparkling.

And Will can’t help the way his cheeks warm, because yeah, he noticed those things - di Angelo’s slim build – his cheekbones – the way he moved fluidly through the mess of his office, the way his eyes lit up when Will showed more than passing interest in the cases he presented. But none of those things really matter. It’s just work.

Will shakes his head, exasperated. “I don’t know. He was in a suit and tie, same as me. Shorter. Thin, I guess. Looked like he could use a few good meals.”

“Oh my god,” Kayla mutters, returning to her pasta.

“What,” Will says, flat, setting down his fork.

“He’s totally your type.”

“Oh my god, he is not –”

“He is though!” Kayla laughs. “Short? Sickly-looking? Kinda emo?”

“He’s not sickly looking –”

“Oh my god, I bet he listens to Nine Inch Nails.”

Will turns back to his dinner, prim. He is absolutely not giving his sister the satisfaction of knowing that’s exactly what was playing quietly on the stereo when he entered di Angelo’s office.

“It’s work Kayla, not a singles bar. I’m a fucking professional.”

But Kayla’s giggling into her water and Will’s fighting a smile now too. It only takes him a moment to relent.

“Okay, fine. Objectively speaking, he’s cute. He was cute.”

“Aha, I knew it,” Kayla cackles. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You are absolutely forbidden from ever speaking to him.”

Kayla snorts.

Will sighs, poking at his noodles. Kayla drives him absolutely insane most of the time. He’s so glad he has her.

“It’s okay to date at work, Will,” Kayla says, gentler.

Easy for her to say. Kayla’s always seemed to have the uncanny knack for remaining close with her exes - no awkwardness, no hard feelings. Will, unfortunately, can’t say the same for his own past relationships. It’s not the primary reason his current endeavors have taken him so far from the small town in Texas he grew up in, but it doesn’t hurt.

“I’m fine, Kayla,” he says, glancing up briefly. He knows she worries about him. “I’m too busy for dating anyway. And I’m definitely not going to start hitting on some guy I work with just because he’s the requisite amount of emo.”

“Sixty-eight percent of romantic relationships begin in the workplace, Will.”

Will frowns. “That… sounds like a completely fabricated statistic.”

Kayla shrugs. “Okay, you got me.”

Will snorts, returning to his meal. “Thanks for making dinner again, by the way,” he remembers to add. “I was ready to gnaw off my own arm on the way home on the train today.”

Kayla shrugs. “No problem. I had time.” She sets down her glass of water and pauses, gazing at him across the small table. “You’re a good guy, Will.”

Will huffs out a laugh, surprised. “Thanks?”

Kayla shrugs. “I mean it. All kidding aside, you seem… happy. Today. I hope the new job works out.”

Will nods, thoughtful. He felt happy, today. “Yeah. Me too.”

(chapter 2 here)

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Notes:

I wrote this section back in November and BOY did it feel awkward. This fic is pretty much my first try ever at writing something more than just fluff and angst and long one-shots. It also felt REALLY weird writing a Will & Nico without some kind of established relationship.

Sections of this are taken pretty much straight from the X-Files pilot. You should watch it, if you haven't! Not that it will make any difference to your understanding of this fic, probably. And it turns out my writing is about 100x fluffier than Chris Carter's. Shocking, I know.

I do not claim to have any understanding of the workings of the FBI.

I initially cringed so hard at myself every time I had to type "Agent Solace" or "Agent di Angelo". Then I got over it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to @rosyredlipstick for betaing & to @anything-thats-rock-and-roll for suggesting emo music (against their better judgement, I think) and helping me with Will's favourite tie (not ghost condoms - at least not YET)