#posting this a few hours early in my own timezone

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Mature Audiences (For references to underage sex) Words: 2.8K~ Summary: It’s possible. The timing lines up. What Connie fears is one hundred percent possible. The problem is, a potential pregnancy this early into their relationship was absolutely not in their plans.

WOE, post canon Connverse pregnancy scare fic be upon ye.

This is honest to god the fastest I've ever written a fic of this length in my whole ass life- I thought of this idea literally last night and nailed it all out in like twelve straight hours. Just so y'all can make an informed decision on whether to read or sit out, this contains minimal description of actual sex beyond like one short paragraph- instead focusing in on the human fallout of poor teenage decision making.

Connie is 17 and already in college, and Steven is 19.

On a semi-related topic, Google absolutely believes I'm pregnant now after all the incessant research I did for this story, lmafo.

Enjoy! I'm putting basically all of this fic under a cut here due to its mature topic nature.

__

If you asked Steven what kind of conversation he expected when Connie called him out of the blue at one AM in the morning, one where she’s hysterical and halfway to hyperventilating definitely wouldn’t have been at the top of his list.

“Woah, woah—” he stresses, passing the phone to his other ear so he can pick on up what she’s saying better. “Just— slow down, okay? Start from the beginning. What’s happened?”

“It’s been three days, Steven!” she says, voice hitching upon his name. “I know my cycle, okay?? I’ve been tracking my cycle ever since I started menstruating, and it’s supposed to be like goddamn clockwork! It’s never been late like this. Never!”

“And you’re, uh— you’re absolutely sure there’s nothing else that could be interfering-??”

“Of course I’m fucking sure!” she hollers, making the small speaker bar on his phone vibrate against the side of his head. 

He winces, already regretting his poor choice of words with her. 

“Okay, okay, I— I shouldn’t have pressed about that. I’m sorry. Just—” he sucks in a deep breath of air, doing his absolute beat not to delve down the dangerous implication filled rabbit hole this early on, when tensions are high and accurate information is sorely limited— “what do you need right now? What can I do to help?”

“I need you here,” she warbles, her hysteria finally pushing over the brim and transforming into a heartbreaking bounty of distraught cries. “With me—!”

He clamps down upon the inside of his lip, thinking. The unfortunate part of living two timezones away from a romantic partner is that their transportation options for emergency visitations are limited. Unless… 

“Is Lion with you?” he asks, crossing his fingers and hoping beyond all hopes that this aloof feline miraculously chose this evening to make a visit at Connie’s off campus group home.

“I-I…” Brief pause. There’s a faint ruffle in the line, probably her shifting position. “I think he’s outside, yes.”

“If you can send him over to me, I’ll be there as fast as I can. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers, hoarse and strained. 

“We’ll figure this out, I promise. Love you.”

“Love you…”

And with that, Connie hangs up from her end.

Steven’s humble little studio apartment falls into complete and utter silence. He cradles his phone in his hands, staring with unparalleled intensity at his seventeen-year-old girlfriend’s smiling contact photo for a good few minutes… contemplating the sheer daunting weight of the potential future life’s just sprung on them out of nowhere. 

It’s possible.

The timing lines up.

What Connie fears is one hundred percent possible.

“Shit,” he ultimately hisses, shoving the device in his back pocket and moving to grab his wallet, his keys, and a light jacket.

This was absolutely not the conversation he expected to have tonight.

_____

One trip to his local 24-hour convenience store and a ride on Lion later, Steven finds himself perched on the edge of Connie and her housemates’ shared couch holding the instructional pamphlet for a pregnancy test, intensely conscious of the sleep shattering noise they’re probably making out here despite their best attempts at whispering. Ugh. He really, really hopes they don’t wake Patricia or Natalie up with all this racket. He doesn’t want to be rude, especially not at the heart of midterms season.

“But this says you’re not supposed to take it until a week after your first missed period,” he says, tapping his finger at the relevant section of fine print.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not gonna work at all, though,” Connie shoots back, tussling the instructions from his hands. “Look, see—? It doesn’t say you’re not supposed to take it until then, it just says the results may have a higher chance of inaccuracy.”

“And isn’t accuracy exactly what we need at the moment?” he responds with a bit too much stress riding within his tone. 

(His thoughts trail back to almost three weeks ago. That kissing session that got a bit more heated than either of them had originally planned for. The expired condom that he didn’t realize was expired until after it broke in the middle of sex.)

She shoots him a withering look, her eyes puffy and damp from all the tears she’s already shed tonight. 

“No, what I need is an answer. Any answer, so I can finally go to bed and stop freaking the hell out over this. You know how I am— I just gotta rip the bandaid off, and then I’ll be fine. I’ll even test daily for the next week if that makes you feel better.”

“Whatever makes you feel better,” he gently redirects, capturing her trembling hand within his and rubbing faint circles against the side of her palm for a few precious moments.

Sniffling, she gives a faint nod, grabbing the test itself from the coffee table and moving to stand.

“Okay. I… I’ll be just a few minutes. I’ll come back out once I have the sample ready, a-and… and then we can wait together.”

“Take your time,” he says.

She does.

As it turns out, peeing on demand (and on a plastic test strip, no less) is pretty difficult, even more so when one is stressed beyond all belief. 

They keep in contact over text for those long twenty or so minutes, and it’s through this feed of discussion that he starts to piece together the full picture of what must’ve happened here.

Mistake number one: Connie knew she was in a fertile period. She knew, and— horny as she was at the time— decided to progress the speed of their lovemaking anyways. All her choice. She provided him a condom she’d gotten as a free sample from some university health fair, and off they went. In any normal circumstance, that’s where this story would stop.

But then came mistake number two: right as he neared the brink of orgasm, he felt a distinct jump in sensitivity— one that not only sent him careening right over the edge, but also alerted him to the fact that his condom must’ve snapped. He’s almost positive Connie felt it too. He pulled out as quick as he could the second he realized, but what’s done was done. 

They discovered big mistake number three right afterwards: The condom was already expired. It was expired all along, and neither of them had thought to check the label before slipping it on. Stupid. Connie promised she’d talk to the campus nurse about getting her hands on some free Plan B that next morning— just in case— and Steven assumed that was the end of it. 

But then there was mistake number four: Apparently, Connie never took that Plan B at all. She was so wigged out over one of her upcoming midterms in a class she’s barely passing that (as he learns via this text thread) she forgot to go to the nurse to inquire about it in the first place. By the time she remembered, too many days had passed for it to be effective, so she didn’t bother looking into it further. Instead she merely crossed her fingers that nothing would come of this series of unfortunate happenings whatsoever, but then came late period day number one. And then number two. And then number three. And by that point, the evidence seemed so stacked against her favor that the stress simply exploded. She couldn’t study. She couldn’t even sleep. Thus, she just has to secure an answer tonight, or she’ll never find any peace, she says.

He understands, he does.

But also… he really, really wants to make sure that whatever answer they settle on with this matter is guaranteed correct. And soon, while there’s still time to do something about it (if that’s what she wants) without too much emotional investment coming into play.

Because accidentally knocking up his girlfriend in her second year of college… before they’re even married or close to being engaged… and while she’s still seventeen to boot was absolutely not in their plans.

“Ughhh… stupid, stupid,” he hisses to himself, knocking his head against the plush backing of the sofa. 

If that damned test comes back positive, her mother (and heck, probably Pearl too, for that matter) is going to kill him.

While he wouldn’t mind being a father in a few years’ time, the fact of thee matter is that they’re nowhere close to ready for such a future at this current juncture. Neither of them have jobs. Neither of them have a home of their own that isn’t partially paid for by their parents. Hell, on his end, even with regular therapy and steady medication he still struggles with the most basic self-care like showering daily and remembering to eat breakfast. So how on Earth— if Connie’s fears are right, and she is positive— is he supposed to suddenly pivot to taking care of an infant too on top of all that? Oh stars he’s not ready for this. He’s not. 

And if that’s how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how much terror must be surging through her mind at this present moment.

Yikes. He’s really made a mess of things, hasn’t he? He should’ve… ugh, he should’ve said something. He should’ve gently told her ‘no’ the moment she revealed she was only a day away from ovulation. He shouldn’t have taken the risk. He should’ve thought to check in with her about the Plan B instead of blindly assuming she took care of it. He’s older, so he should’ve been the responsible one. 

He tells her as such.

no, no… it takes two to tango, silly, she responds via text a few seconds later. it’s not your fault any more than it’s mine. im sorry for yelling at you earlier, it’s just. not what i had planned.

same, he responses. 

And then, after a hard swallow and a moment’s pause… he dares to rustle up that big ol’ elephant in the room.

He asks The Question.

have u thought about what you’re gonna do if its positive yet

A set of ellipses show up at the bottom of the screen. She’s typing. Slowly. 

Or maybe… 

The ellipses disappear for a bit. Then reappear. Then blink out existence once again.

Steven sighs, sinking back into the couch and setting his phone upside down so he doesn’t have to psych himself out by staring expectantly at her contact photo at the top of their text feed for the next goodness knows how long. 

Good grief. If he weren’t already so damn emotionally drained over all this, he’s sure he’d be glowing bright ass pink right now. Thank goodness he’s not. Connie needs his comfort tonight, not the other way around. His lip crinkles into a pensive frown as he reflects on the situation… shifts his gaze around the darkened living room. (He catches the faintest glimpse of Lion snoozing outside the window again as his eyes adjust to the light level.) For the briefest of seconds he considers shooting a text to Dad, curious if he might have any advice on how to handle this sort of situation, but then…

No, no. It’s far too early to say anything. Plus, he doesn’t want to risk letting the blunt reality of their active sex life break containment unless Connie says it’s okay.

His phone buzzes.

Heart pounding with unimaginable ferocity, he flips it over to read.

honestly the reason i’m so freaked out rn is that i think id really wanna keep it. even though im SURE it would mess up all my college goals. is that stupid??

Brief pause yet again as she adds something else.

i’m so, so sorry i know that might not be something you’re ready to commit to rn. that’s half of why i’m so upset. i don’t want this to speed up our relationship in ways you’re not ready for, or ruin it altogether

Steven’s inhale is sharp and shallow, his thoughts racing as he tries not to consider the potential implications of what her decision means for him too deeply. It’s not about me, he reminds himself. It’s not about me.

hey, no- it’s okay, he types, fingers shaking. don’t fuss about me. it’s your body. your choice. i’ll support you through whatever you decide. promise.

Send.

A good while passes without a response. 

Considering the heaviness of the topic, he’s half a mind to stride across the room and go knock on the bathroom door to see if she’s okay, but then that very door squeaks open.

Connie scuttles to the couch in a hurry, the test and a generous wad of toilet paper in hand. She lays down the paper on the coffee table first for cleanliness’ sake, and sets the plastic sample cartridge on top of it.

Then, with a weary sigh, she sets a timer on her phone for three minutes.

“Please don’t let me look at it until time’s up,” she says, slumping against his side for comfort. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, shifting his position to wrap his arms tight around her. Secure. Safe. “We’re okay. Whatever happens, we do it together, all right?”

“All right.”

Noticing her heavy blinking and angling to help her feel better, he brushes a stray wavy lock back behind her ear, his touch as delicate as he can muster. “Hey. Jam buds?”

“Jam buds,” she nods with a watery smile.

They sit in silence for about thirty seconds, allowing each others’ racing heartbeats to lull them to at least some form of camaraderie laden relief.

Or at least, they try to.

“My mom is not gonna be happy about this,” Connie says out of the blue, attaching words to the daunting thought they’re clearly both stewing over.

“If it’s positive,” he reminds her. “It’s still a big if.”

“But I’m right though. I was an underage accident, too, remember? I just—” her voice breaks as she chokes back what he fears might be an impending sob— “I know she wanted better for me. I don’t want to disappoint her, y’know?”

He risks a dry joke to lighten the mood.

“Well… at least if she’s mad, you have the excuse that it runs in the family to fall back on, right?”

“Oh, shut up, you,” she says with a half-hearted giggle, playfully shrugging him away.

They lapse into a peaceful quiet yet again.

He busies himself tracing abstract shapes against the knob of her shoulder, doing his best to help ground her amidst this unexpected squall in their relationship.

“How much time’s left?” she asks, her tone shrunken and nervous 

Steven glances over at her phone on the table. “Just a few more seconds.”

The timer goes off a mere cluster of heartbeats later.

Taking a deep breath as one committed unit, their hands inseparably intertwined, the two lean forward to investigate the pregnancy test together.

There’s only a single band visible in the results window, where the control should be.

Negative.

Steven lets out what’s quite possibly the biggest exhale of his full nineteen years.

Thank the stars.

That’s step one.

It’s still not a solid confirmation— not with this singular test taken so early into what she fears is a missed cycle— but it’s a start.

“What does it mean that a tiny part of me is kinda disappointed now…?” Connie asks him afterwards, sinking backwards into the couch’s soft embrace. 

“It means we’ll have to try again in a few years,” he says, giving the crown of her head a soft kiss. “When we’re actually ready.

_____

Connie tests again just a few hours later that morning. 

Then the next day.

And the next.

All negative.

Much to their relief, their one hundred percent conclusive answer comes on day three, when she calls him at the literal crack of dawn with immense excitement to report the belated start of her period.

Just to be extra sure, she makes a walk-in appointment at the university clinic to talk through the scare with one of their doctors on day four.

“It was that damn anxiety med I just started,” she relays to him over the phone later that evening. “I didn’t even think about it. Apparently medications that function as antidepressants run the risk of screwing up your cycle a bit. Thus, the delay.”

“Well, now we know for the future, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she says with a faint chuckle. “That, and the importance of never using cheap free sample condoms. Ugh… I’m gonna be so paranoid about expiration dates, now.”

He frowns, rapping his fingertips against the arm of his desk chair.

“Hey, listen— don’t get all worked up over it, okay? Like you’ve said before, it takes two to tango. We never have to do anything you’re not explicitly comfortable with.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” she acquiesces. “Of course you’re right… Still, I guess the silver lining of all this is that now I know I actually want children someday.”

“Same,” he says, his chest fluttering with unquestionable affection. “Let’s get you through college first, though. Then we’ll talk.” 

Connie giggles, lively and free. The sound is spellbinding music to his ears.

“Sounds like a deal, Biscuit.”

[giatreagapite]

#DR VERITAS RATIO

A heavily headcanon-driven, canon-divergent, and independent portrayal of Dr. Ratio from Honkai: Star Rail.

| DR. RATIO

[ Age ]

Early-mid 30s

[ Pronouns ]

He/him, They/them, Star/starred, Luna/lune, Dawn/dusk [ Transmasc Nonbinary/Demimale ]

[ Sexuality ]

Bisexual (masc lean)

Note: This portrayal depicts a Dr. Ratio with Halovian features! Specifically, an artificial Halovian with Eurasian Eagle-Owl features (including the ear tufts), but excluding the halo. He also has psychic abilities, but they are rather basic and minor. (You may ask admin or the character itself as to how this happened)

| ADMIN

Hi!! Call me Dango, Apollo, or Hermes! My writer tag is going to be “🍡.” I am 15 and can do lengthy writings, but often, I will do short crack posts for the fun of it! My timezone is UTC+8 and my pronouns are he/they/lune/moon/star. I also do art commissions!! See @thedangoratio (my main/art account) for info on that

| TAGS

#ratios mail = ask responses

#pride comes before a fall = solos

#mundanity of life = open starters

#dango the admin = admin posts

[ This section will be updated periodically ]

| HEADCANONS

| Visual headcanons (minus the halovian features)(those will get a proper drawing)

Some things I imagine him with, but didn’t add here because I don’t quite know how to edit those onto official art well enough yet

Hooked nose

Eyebags (I just forgot this actually)

A few wrinkles (I forgot those too)

| Ratio’s Cats

Dr. Ratio lives alone and loves animals dearly, so he’s often fostered lost cats he meets outside and cares for them as much as he can, fighting loneliness with them in return. He has gotten attached to many, so.. That’s why he has at least 10 adopted cats and 3 critters (the cat cakes).

The cats

Eurydice

Orpheus

Ethos

Logos

Pathos

Prometheus

Epimetheus

Rhiney

Achilles

Patroclus

The critters

Sesame Cake

Lambda’s Friend

Trash Cake

| Headcanoned Lore

Dr. Ratio was a medical doctor at one point of his life, when he first graduated from university. Though, he quit after the number of patients that died in his care had reached over 10 in total over the course of a 17 year long career (including residency) at 26 years old.

Dr. Ratio hails from the planet Amphoreus, The Eternal Land. (Until proven otherwise)

Dr. Ratio is a lightweight, having never touched alcohol until 1 night when he was 26. He hasn’t had a drop since then.

[ MTBA ]

| Miscellaneous

Dr. Ratio has been known to carry a few peculiar behaviors that are notably “owl-like”, as his students say, such as being able to rotate his head over his shoulder much more than the average person and displaying a wider gaze when presented with a topic of special interest.

Dr. Ratio is also known to exclaim with peculiar (again) noises when caught off guard. Such noises are those of a rubber duck when he is poked or squeezed spontaneously, a purring sound when comfortably sleeping, and an owl’s low “hoo” when called for (again) spontaneously.

Dr. Ratio owns a wide collection of rubber ducks in many designs, sizes and colors, each with a backstory of how he acquired them and often extremely long and.. Interesting names. Veritas can go on for hours about each one. He also collects stationary, but not as seriously.

Dr. Ratio made the marble statues used in his technique himself, a result of his stone masonry hobby. He also has a few black and white practice self portraits in the charcoal medium.

Dr. Ratio frequently collects hair accessories and rings, maintaining a wide collection of these in his bedroom. Yes, he is open to sharing the hair accessories with those he befriends.

[fatebleds]

₊ ° . ☆ ⏤⏤⏤ POENA DIVINA.

a plot drop & event update. / it's ... dark. the sky above is an inky abyss, devoid of any illumination of the moonlight. the world is still around spirase, lifeless almost, if not accounting for the pockets of individuals attending both the festival & the bonfire. it's been peaceful here, has it not? have you grown comfortable with your new life? do you find relief in thinking you have figured this place out?

have you actually figured this place out?

the night will continue on with the new moon, but the daylight will not burn like it should. darkness is all that surrounds you well into the early morning hours, the guiding light of even the heavenly bodies' own mouthpieces suddenly ... absent. the powers one possesses will not bare any fruit when yielded, & the system you have come to know & rely on so much will crumble down like a castle of cards.

by all means, you are stranded. in a world far to dark, somewhere all to strange. powerless.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the details are under the cut.

hehe hi everyone! this is a more instruction - heavy event than we've ever done for the full server so we're gonna need you guys to bare with us some! if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask; i hope i was as thorough as possible.

(i'm gonna drop the double text for explaining this woops it'll just be easier on my noggin)

this is a temporary, server-wide event that will be active until further notice. we promise this won't be for too long, but it will shake things up a bit.

on MIDNIGHT, JUNE 5TH PST, all powers (both canon powers or magic, as well as spirase magic) will be completely voided. characters cannot use them at all. they will not be able to travel to different eras, and thus will be completely STRANDED in whatever era they were in when this change happened (aka MIDNIGHT ON JUNE 5TH.) if your muse lives in the void and was attending the festival in vinyality, they will be stuck in vinyality until further notice.

characters who are in any of the physical key locations (such as the courthouse, the town hall, the hospital; essentially things that are NOT outdoor locations) will be stuck in that building until further notice. looking outside will result in just total darkness and they will be unable to even open a door or a window.

newer muses (aka anyone picked up & accepted AFTER midnight in the pst timezone on june 5th) can be placed in any of the eras; you as the writer can decide that for yourself. just know that they will be stuck there for a little bit, in a moment of confusion! i am sure this will just make them panic more if they know they're not native to spirase!

you can finagle with where your muses are stuck, but it is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED that you don't just plot with people to put all of your muses' in eras where their most familiar or where their friends are or any of that. your muses should be uncomfortable and feel stranded & alone. (but also please don't feel like you have to engage in a ton of angst; we just want you to be able to feel the plot drop as much as possible.)

as the day hours continue, it will become more apparent that THE SUN IS NOT COMING UP. everyone will be in complete darkness until further notice.

AND LASTLY ... the oracles may or may not be suddenly mia. :) feel free to ask them questions though!

this will not last super long; i do want to make that clear, but this will be ongoing for the last few days of the summer festival. you are free & encouraged to start indicate whether threads after this point are either PRE-JULY 5TH (aka where none of this panic is going on) or POST-JULY 5TH, please don't make this feel like it has to disrupt anything you planned!

i am sure not everyone wants all of their muses stuck in vinyality or nexus so if you want to finagle something, you can. again we just encourage that you don't just keep your muses where they're comfortable so you can feel the full effect of the plot drop.

[fandom-space-princess]

Radio Silence

midam week prompt 3: Connection - a relationship in which a person, thing, or idea is linked or associated with something else

Rating: Teen

[1.5k words, angst with a happy ending and hurt/comfort]

One by one, the voices of the Host are falling silent.

Michael struggles to come to terms with the deaths of his family. Adam helps.

read below the cut, or on AO3

Michael's first memory of Lucifer is song.

The Creation was still so young then, so new. For some undefinable period of existence, Michael had been not First, but Only. Sole companion to Father in his dominion of light. Though time had no meaning in that early formless void, in Michael's memories his solitary existence at his Father's side was a small stretch of eternity.

He did not know loneliness. How could he? He had his Father. Moreover, he had no basis for comparison.

But from one moment (or year or epoch) to the next, he was suddenly no longer Only.

Father's hands, alternately stirring and stilling the fabric of spacetime around him. Urging matter and energy into coalescence, a weave of plasma and starlight and intention condensing in on itself. Reaching out and taking a piece of Michael himself, his essence of silver and steel, the better to bind and grow this new creature. As he did all things, Michael gave of himself joyously. Felt the twist of his rehomed grace as it rooted and flourished, blossoming and expanding into —

(this creature of blinding luminescence, stretching wings like his own from grace like his own with a voice, oh, a voice like his own)

The Second turned to face the First, and raised his voice in glory. Michael, knowing naught but the love and the rightness of it, echoed back the song. And all the kingdom of his Father, all the dominion of light, rang with the birth of the first harmony.

— companion.

Kin. 

Second.

Go, My creations. Father's whispered first instructions. Go forth and expand My domain, in My name.

Singing, they circled each other. They flew through the void trailing gravity in their wake, shedding stardust from their vast wings, and nebulas swirled into being as they passed. Where they went, existence followed.

Soon their Father called them home, and commanded them to give of themselves once more.

Grace from the First, grace from the Second. Starstuff and intention, and twin blooms of being. The Third, a creature of bright sparking joy and gentle hands, so like Father's. The Fourth, wings as golden and unwavering as the timbre of his voice.

They were Four, and at Father's side they were complete. Theirs was the first choir.

There came a time, of course, when more voices joined the chorus. In the millennia that followed, Michael grew to love all of his brothers; every voice in the Host was welcomed, wanted, cherished, a vital addition to the melody. Such was Heaven. Yet for the rest of his long existence, Michael would guard most closely those early memories. Before their smaller kin had been spoken into being. Before Father's absence. Before the amputation of self that was Lucifer's Fall, was Gabriel's departure.

When they were Four, in and of only each other, and their melody was whole.

-----

"Can you still hear them?" Adam asked once, and Michael had been unable to meet his eyes.

The Cage was a lonely place, only the four of them. But at least Michael still had this connection, however tenuous, to his brothers. Adam didn't even have that much.

After a heartbeat (or a year or an epoch; the quality of time passing here was oddly reminiscent of the timeless Beginning), Michael nodded.

"I can," he murmured, "if I focus. I can't reach out to them, but... I can hear them."

The voices of the Host in his mind. Years, now, since the choir of Heaven sung in well-ordered harmony, but they were there nonetheless. Discordance or not, their presence gave him comfort.

He had glanced at Lucifer, brooding on the other side of the Cage near Sam Winchester's sleeping form. Adam had followed his gaze.

"What about him?" Adam asked. "Does he talk to you? Does he try to talk to them?"

Michael shook his head.

"He hasn't tried to talk to me in a very long time," he sighed. "I doubt he has any greater interest in the others."

-----

Something is brewing. The singing of his brothers is strident, strained. There is no harmony here.

There is fighting, and whispers. One by one, voices begin to vanish from the chorus.

----

No amount of the Host falling silent can compare to the moment Raphael is slain.

Lucifer does meet his eyes, then. For the first time in a hundred years, their gazes lock across the expanse of the Cage, and Michael knows that their pain is, in that instant, identical.

Gone, gone, gone. It hadn't felt like this when Gabriel died, and why...? But Michael hurts too much to think about it, too much to do anything but let himself be gathered into Adam's lap and weep.

He feels a part of his grace return to him then, a piece missing since the beginning. An remnant of bright sparking joy and caring hands. His healing, gentle brother.

He has never wanted anything less.

-----

Michael's head is splitting, his grace tearing apart at the seams. Thousands of voices reverberating agony. Deaths — there had never been so many of their kind to perish at once. Deaths and an echo of war cries, some in terror, some in joy, and all the same.

Castiel. Castiel. Castiel!

He slumps into Adam's arms, hands gripped tight enough to bruise on his vessel's shoulders. Adam runs fingertips over his scalp and mutters soothing nonsense into his ear.

He wonders if Lucifer can hear them too. Wonders if he cares.

-----

Sometime around year 700, Lucifer disappears from the Cage. One moment, he is there, a silent shadow opposite Michael and Adam, and the next — he is gone.

For a while, this feels like a glimmer of hope. A sick sort of hope. But hope nonetheless.

Even this fades in time.

They have long since passed the point of keeping anything from each other. Down here, with no one to hear them but the Cage walls and the howling damned, Adam cradles Michael's head on his lap while the archangel whispers fears, fears of silence and the dark, and clutches his hand.

Adam's soul is not like the grace of his brothers. Michael's mouth twists in wry amusement at the notion. Once, his younger self would have considered a human soul to be beneath his notice — unable to be harmonized with, such a far cry from the resplendence of celestial hymns. But in the confines of the Cage, against the growing backdrop of silence and static from the Host, Michael has found himself in a position to reevaluate.

Quiet Adam's soul may be, small and fragile and human. But it is so much more than that, too. Its song is steadfast, so determined, and the love it radiates is all the more fierce for the comparison to Michael's divinity.

Here in the dark, Adam is a lighthouse. And Michael —

— it is blasphemous to even think it, but Michael has never seen a light so bright.

-----

When Gabriel dies, this time, he knows it. Can feel the reality of it in threading back into his grace, broken strands of gold returning to wend back whence they originated.

It is no comfort that Lucifer follows soon after.

He stares up at the shadowy ceiling of the Cage, and contemplates what it is to be Only once again.

-----

"I can't hear any of them any more," he says one day, and Adam pulls him back to lean against his chest, sheltering in his arms.

"None at all?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. It's just static."

Too quiet. It had never been quiet before. Not since the Beginning. This — this can't be the End. This is all wrong, it can't, it can't. His grace flares out, one long distressed lash, glaring and harsh in the dim space.

"Hey, hey. Listen to me, Michael." Adam is a comforting weight at his back. "I've got you. I've got you."

Adam begins to sing.

He is not companion and other-self and kin-in-kind, not the way Lucifer and Raphael and Gabriel were. Not even a long-beloved note among the melody of the Host.

His voice is not like his brothers' — Adam sings human hymns, songs he only half-recollects from a childhood a thousand years gone. But there is something in it, a vein of simple solace that has Michael's grace reaching out to brush up against and twine around Adam's soul.

Adam sings, and there Michael takes shelter. Adam raises his voice, and there Michael finds love.

Michael's own voice is cracking, rusty from disuse. It has been so long since he sang. But as he allows his grace to ebb and thrum along with the words, matches pitch and volume with Adam until they might ring through into even the depths of the Pit outside, he finds the harmony that he had feared gone for good.

Archangel and vessel join in song, and Michael hopes this may not be the End after all.

Hopes that, maybe, they can sing a new Beginning.

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 7: Boyfriend Duties || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Complete Faith (Masterpost)

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader; {background SJ x OC, mentions of YG x OC, and HS x OC}

Rating: Soft R overall, this chapter: PG-13

Wordcount: 50k total; this chapter: 4345

Summary: It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date in mind from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

Alternate summary: coworkers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again

TW/CW: Full list on the Masterpost. This chapter: strong language, a line that made me CHEW ON MY FIST I love it so much, alcohol consumption.

Notes: This fic is complete and will be updated every Friday evening (EDT timezone). A HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @kookstempo for the amazing beta job tytytytyty!

Chapter 7: Boyfriend Duties

July

Things go smoothly – better than smoothly – for a few weeks. Taehyung drives you into the city for the comedy show, and you hop around to a few bars when it ends, before ending the night back at your place again. The following weekend, you go to a movie and then walk along a nearby boardwalk. You flirt in a low-key way around work but generally don’t see much of each other outside of the lunch hour, and he texts you every night even if it’s just to send a stupid meme he thought was funny.

It's just… easy.

It’s a Thursday when Taehyung stops by your office unexpectedly in the afternoon.

“Hi,” he greets you, knocking on your open door. “Got a second?”

“For you, I might even have a whole minute,” you tease.

He casts a glance into the hallway to make sure you’re alone. “You know that I need more than a minute,” he murmurs at you suggestively.

“Kim Taehyung,” you scold, laughing. “You are the worst.”

“Not what you said last weekend,” he quips, and damn him, that’s actually true.

You let out a huff of playful frustration. “Is there something I can help you with?” you ask.

“Oh,” he says, remembering why he’d come there in the first place – which was not, actually, just to flirt with you. “Yeah, I wanted to talk about this weekend. Something came up with my family, so I’m going to be busy. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you say, but you’re disappointed. The dates so far just hadn’t missed, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to the next one… and the next post-date. “It’s okay. We’ll do something a different day.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, shuffling his feet a little. “But I want to see you outside of work sooner than next weekend.”

His pout is so adorable you want to scream.

“Well,” you say, feeling a little uncertain but pushing forward anyway, “would you want to just… I don’t know… come hang out after work? We could order dinner and just… chill?”

“Are you asking me to Netflix and chill?” he asks you seriously.

“Oh my god, can you be serious for two seconds?” you grouse, but you’re laughing.

“If you want that, I’d love to come over,” he says, hands in his pockets. “I’ll just run home and change first?”

You look at him silently, calculating, deciding just how far you want to stick your neck out. “You could bring your stuff for morning, too, if you wanted? Like, no pressure. It doesn’t have to be any every time thing, either, like it could just be this time? Then you don’t have to go home later, or early, before work?”

You’ve never felt so damn nervous in your life, not even at job interviews. If he gets weird now, you will absolutely never speak to another human again.

But Taehyung’s smile lights up his face. “You’re getting soft on me,” he accuses, still grinning.

“Never mind,” you say, swiveling your chair away from him and typing literal nonsense on your computer, just to look busy. “Offer rescinded.”

He raps twice on your door in goodbye. “See you around five-thirty,” he calls over his shoulder.

That night, as you lay together catching your breath, you ask him, “So what’s the verdict? You sick of me yet?”

Taehyung pulls you close, burrowing his face in your neck, breathing you in. His heart beats hard in his chest, against yours. His hands hold you tight, locking you in, keeping you safe.

“Baby,” he whispers, “I honestly cannot get enough of you.”

Another two weeks pass much the same way, and you meet up with Taehyung on a Saturday afternoon at Jungkook’s house for a cookout. You take an Uber there, assuming you’d end up going home with Taehyung, and walk around to the spacious backyard. A few picnic tables are grouped together, along with some wicker chairs and couches. There’s a currently unlit firepit at the edge of the yard, and a few lawn games are set up.

You rush to bearhug Jimin, whom you haven’t seen outside of work since the lake trip a month ago.

“Hello, cutie,” he tells you, lifting you off of your feet for a second. “Taehyung is inside grabbing some sodas.”

“Okay,” you say easily. You wave hello to the people you know – Seokjin and Yoongi, Yoongi’s girlfriend Ji-hyun, Namjoon, and Hoseok. You sit down near Seokjin and Yoongi to chat. Jungkook comes out of the house, followed by Nikki. She widens her eyes at you, then points frantically at her phone. You get the idea and pull yours out quickly.

[3:14 pm] Nikki: the girl that dumped Tae the day of the trip is here????

[3:16 pm] Nikki: APPARENTLY DEMI IS HER COUSIN

[3:17 pm] Nikki: why NONE of these dudes could tell us that, I do not know

[3:18 pm] Nikki: consider this your heads up lol they hate you already

Your stomach twists in anxiety and she sends a kiss emoji to remind you that she’s got your back. You take a deep breath and open a text for Taehyung.

[3:20 pm] You: hey… Nik just told me who’s here… just wanted to let you know I’ll play it however you want today. If you want to act like we’re just friends so it doesn’t get dramatic, it won’t hurt my feelings

The next people out of the house are the girls – Hoseok’s girlfriend Demi, and the other one must be Seo-yun. Nikki is right – they are not here to be friends, which is their right. They give you a wide berth and head over to the currently abandoned cornhole game, starting to throw casually to each other.

Taehyung comes out of the house next, looking almost angry. He scans the yard until he finds you, and then he hurries down the wooden deck stairs. 

He strides over to where you’re perched on the edge of the picnic table and gets right in your personal space. He takes your face firmly between his hands and kisses you deeply, sweetly, slowly. Someone (Nikki or Jimin, you’d bet anything) whistles. 

You look at him, feeling totally ambushed, as he pulls away.

“That’s how I fucking want to play this,” he growls at you. 

You blink at him, surprised, but also so turned on. He’s not done yet, though. “Act like we’re just friends? Get the fuck out of here with that shit, Y/N.”

You gape at him. “Wait, are you angry?” you whisper. “I was trying to be considerate. I don’t want to spend all day trying to act like I’m not crazy about you. I want to be with you.”

That takes all the air out of his sails, and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. “No, I’m not mad,” he assures you, then adds, “At you, anyway.” 

You wonder if you missed some ugliness in the house. Nikki will update you later, you’re sure.

“Come on,” he says, just as you had once said to him back at the lake, clearly wanting to move on from the tense moment. “Let’s have some fun.” He rummages in the closest cooler and digs out a beer for you, popping it open and handing it over before reaching for his own. Hoseok and Namjoon head over to the girls at the cornhole boards, intending to play 2-on-2 as intended. 

You sit around with your crew - Nikki, Seokjin, Jimin, Jungkook, Yoongi, Ji-hyun, and Tae - for a while, everyone eating handfuls of chips, drinking beer, and talking shit. About an hour in, your conversation with Jimin is interrupted when a string of cold water hits him in the chest, splashing onto you as well.

“What the hell?” you gasp, looking to find the source. Jungkook, armed with a water gun bigger than a cat, cackles as he sprints away.

Jimin leaps up in hot pursuit, and Taehyung comes around the side of the house at a jog - you’d wondered where he’d gotten off to - and tosses a (much smaller) water gun at you, keeping one for himself. It becomes Everyone versus Jungkook, and somehow Jungkook is winning. You run around like idiots, screaming, until you’re all soaked and laughing, out of ammunition. Jimin heads towards Nikki and Seokjin - who had watched all of this nonsense from the wicker furniture - and shakes like a dog, making Nikki scream. Jungkook grabs another beer and goes around the house to, presumably, refill his super-soaker. 

You start to head back, hoping you can head inside and find a towel, when Taehyung gets you right in the back - apparently not as out of ammo as you thought he was.

“Oh,” you laugh, low and threatening. “You’re dead.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” he taunts, laughing. 

“Maybe you should be,” you say, cocking an eyebrow.

“Come get me, then,” he goads, sliding the plastic piece up and down the water gun to indicate that it’s loaded. You jolt towards him, hoping to wrestle it away from him, but he drops the water gun in the grass and grabs you around the middle, swinging you away from it. You shriek, still laughing wildly, and lift your knees in an attempt to bring him down by going dead weight.

He lifts you easily and then sets you down gently, still chuckling, and you put your feet on the ground. His hands are still on your stomach, and he presses his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes for a second.

“I think I win,” he murmurs, low, just for you to hear. 

You spin around to face him, stretching up to give him a quick kiss. “Funny,” you say, starting to walk back towards the house, “I was thinking the same thing.” You’re aware of Demi and Seo-yun watching you from the side of the yard. You head up the deck stairs and pause at the top, wringing out your hair so you don’t drip through the house. 

“Jungkook,” you call down, “where are towels?”

He yells directions to his linen closet and tells you to “take whatever”. You head inside and down the hallway, finding the towels easily. You grab two, planning on giving one to Taehyung, unless he is engaged in warfare with Jungkook again, which is extremely likely.

Back in the kitchen, Seo-yun is rummaging in the fridge. You try to keep pace and just sneak past her to the door, but she straightens up when she notices you.

For a second, you just stare at each other. She is cute, Nikki was right. You feel weird, guilty, and you remind yourself that she left Taehyung, not the other way around.

“You’re Y/N, right?” she asks finally, closing the fridge and leaning back against the counter.

“That’s me,” you say, trying to keep your voice as light as possible. Your adrenaline is pounding; you are deeply conflict-averse. You wish you could Bat-Signal Nikki for backup.

“You’re still with Taehyung?” she asks flatly.

“Obviously,” you say, some attitude creeping into your voice, which for you is practically aggressive. 

She looks at you for a minute, appraising. Then she says, “You seem like a decent person. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You don’t want to play this game, honestly. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response. You choose to just purse your lips, crossing your arms. If she has something she needs to say, she can just say it. She won’t get any help from you.

She doesn’t need it, apparently. “What’s it been since you got together, a month?” she asks, voice lilting suddenly, like she’s caught onto something.

You continue to abstain from responding. You’re honestly not sure why you’re not halfway out the door already. 

“I give it two more weeks tops before he stops answering your texts,” she tells you. “I’m not trying to be mean to you - I’m trying to warn you. He was cute with me in the beginning, too. And the girl before me.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?” you ask, voice cold. “Forgive me for not feeling super grateful.”

She shrugs, finally pushing off the counter and heading to leave through the sliding glass door. “Your funeral, I guess,” she says as she disappears through the door.

You stand there, feeling a little shell-shocked, when Taehyung comes through the door. His face looks how you feel.

“Were you out there?” you ask immediately.

“Just for the last bit,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” you scoff immediately.

Your bravado makes him grimace, which must mean he knows you well enough to recognize your bullshit when he sees it.

“Y/N,” he says seriously, “don’t let her get in your head.”

“I’m not,” you say. “I won’t.”

He sees through you, though. “I told you,” he says, voice quiet in case anyone comes up to the deck. “It’s different with you. It’s not even comparable.”

What does that mean, though? You’re dying to ask him, but something holds you back. Anyway, Seo-yun hadn’t said anything to you that you hadn’t already thought yourself. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “Let’s just forget about it.”

When you reach for his hand to lead him back outside, he lets you. 

The rest of the evening is drama-free, despite the wild beginning. Hoseok, Demi, and Seo-yun leave shortly after your little encounter in the kitchen, surprise surprise. 

You spend a while laying on your back in the grass, side by side with Nikki, gossiping. She tells you that she thinks Seokjin might propose soon, and you both kick in excitement.

When the meat is done grilling, you all gather back around to eat, music playing from speakers set up around the tables. As it starts to get dark, you move to the firepit, circling your chairs around it. Taehyung pulls you over to sit in his lap, his arms around your waist. You loop one arm behind his neck and settle in.

As you’re all talking, your phone rings, a number you don’t know, but it’s your hometown’s area code. You extract yourself from Taehyung’s lap and walk a few feet away before you pick up.

“Hello, I’m trying to reach Y/N?”

“This is Y/N,” you say.

“Oh, hi sweetheart. This is Abby’s mom, I have Sierra here? I’m so sorry to bother you, but her mom was supposed to pick her up about three hours ago and we haven’t been able to reach her…”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly. “Okay,” you say slowly. “I’m almost an hour out of town, but if you text me the address I can come pick her up. Can you tell her I’m coming so she’s not worried?”

“Of course,” the woman says. “I’ll send it right now. I’m so sorry to do this to you…”

“Don’t be,” you tell her. “Thanks for calling me. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

When you hang up, the whole circle is looking at you. You realize you don’t have your car with you.

“I have to go,” you say, your voice sounding strange and hollow. “I -.”

Taehyung and Nikki both rise, then look at each other, as if trying to decide whose jurisdiction this falls under.

You feel frozen, unable to make any concrete moves. Your mind is miles away, trying to remember the names of rehab centers, places your mom would go when she used to vanish more regularly, hospitals you should call first. You’re getting ahead of yourself, you know, but you can’t stop the spiral once it starts.

 “I’ll take you,” Taehyung says to you, voice quiet. He turns to Nikki. “I’ll handle it. Stay here and have fun. I’ve got it.”

Your hands are shaking. “Sorry,” you say to the circle at large. “Jungkook, thanks for hosting. This was really fun. I’m sorry – my little sister -.”

“It’s cool,” Jungkook says breezily. “Thanks for coming. Talk later, Taehyung?”

Taehyung nods at him and leads you away, an arm around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, bending low to talk to you.

You dodge the question. “Here’s the address. I really appreciate you taking me. I forgot I don’t have my car.”

You text him the address and he lets you get away with avoiding the question. He seems to understand the sense of urgency even though you’ve told him literally nothing. As he navigates out of the neighborhood and back towards the highway, you say, “My mom was supposed to pick my sister up at a friend’s house three hours ago. They can’t find her. I have to go get my sister and bring her home. Then, hopefully find my mother.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, reaching over and taking your hand in his. It’s still trembling slightly, and he gives it a squeeze.

After a few miles of silence on the highway, he glances over at you, clearly concerned. “Do you want to… talk about what’s going on?”

“Eyes on the road,” you snap.

He looks dutifully back at the road.

You continue in silence for a few more minutes, and then you croak out, “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’m just freaking out. Like, completely.”

He squeezes your hand again, but doesn’t say anything, just lets you get there on your own.

“If this was four years ago,” you tell him, “I’d just assume she was high somewhere. But she’s been so stable for a long time now… so it could be that, or it could be just something normal like she forgot or she lost her phone… or it could be something not related to her recovery, but still terrible, like a car accident. Like, who knows? Anything is possible. All possibilities are currently on the table. I don’t even know where to start looking for her.”

“Is there someone you can call?” he asks.

“The police,” you shrug, “once she’s been gone long enough for a Missing Persons report. It’s hardly her first one.”

“There’s no one else…?”

“It’s just me,” you say, a little exasperated – at the situation, not at him. “My dad left her, my grandmother died, she has no one else.”

He gives you a look that you can’t read, and you carry on in silence. Halfway there, you curl your fingers and hold his hand back, tight.

--

“Listen,” you tell him, as you pull up to Abby’s house. “Sierra doesn’t really know. About my mom, I mean. She’s nine. She knows that when she was five, mom was sick and lived at the hospital for a while – rehab. Other than that, all she really knows is that my mom can be… unreliable.”

Taehyung nods to show he understands, and you hop out and head to the front door. Sierra greets you with a hug. You thank Abby’s mom profusely for keeping Sierra longer than scheduled, for feeding her dinner, for finding you.

You open the back door and Sierra climbs in, eyeing Taehyung in that special way that only pre-teen girls can.

“Tiny,” you say, “this is my friend Taehyung. Do you remember him from your violin recital?”

“You mean he’s not your boyfriend?” she asks, eyebrows bunching together, and Taehyung snorts in the driver’s seat. You shoot him a look.

You help him navigate to your mom’s house and let everyone inside. You set Taehyung up on the wifi so he can amuse himself, and take Sierra upstairs to get showered and ready for bed. You text Taehyung from upstairs – “You don’t have to stay, I’ll probably sleep here” – but he doesn’t answer. 

“Are you sleeping over?” Sierra asks as you tuck her into bed.

“Probably,” you say.

“What about Mom?”

You shake your head a little. “I’m not sure yet what time she’s coming home, and I think her phone died. I’ll tell her to come up and say goodnight when she gets here, okay? And I’m not leaving until she’s home. I’m here, Tiny.”

--

Downstairs, you stop on the bottom step and cover your face with your hands and just breathe. You wish Taehyung’s question was reality – that there was someone you could call, a real adult, who could just take this responsibility out of your hands and deal with it. But your mother is your problem, always has been.

You don’t hear Taehyung coming, but suddenly he’s gently peeling your hands away from your face and wrapping you up in a hug.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“I don’t know where to even look for her,” you whisper back, closing your eyes, burying your face against his chest. You stand like that for a long time, just breathing in and out, just holding on.

You wake up to the sound of the front door opening. The living room is bright, so it must be morning. You’re on the couch, a blanket tangled around your legs. Taehyung is still asleep, one arm draped over you. You slide out from under his arm and head towards the noise.

Your mother is fussing with her shoes in the doorway.

“Where the fuck were you?” you hiss, and she startles, looking at you like you came out of nowhere.

“I got a call from Sierra’s friend’s mother that you were three hours late and they couldn’t find you,” you inform her furiously. “And since then, I’ve been counting hours until I could officially report you missing. I need to know what happened, Mother, because if this is going to be a thing again I swear to God I’ll take her with me right now.”

She’s still looking at you, totally flabbergasted.

“You have nothing to say?” you goad her. “I grew up not knowing when you’d come home. I grew up eating pop-tarts for dinner because no one was home to cook. I grew up wondering if this was the time you’d go and never make it back. I won’t let you do that to her, too.”

Suddenly, you feel Taehyung’s hands on your arms, effortlessly pulling you back. You hadn’t realized you were in her face. You hadn’t realized you were yelling. 

She stares at you evenly, lips pressed together. You turn your head minutely to tell Taehyung, “It’s fine. I’m sorry I woke you. Can you wait for me by the car? I’ll be right out.”

He squeezes your arm once, nods politely at your mother, and slips out the front door. You face her again.

“Were you using?” you demand. “I just need to know. For Sierra’s sake, not for mine, and not for yours. It’s a yes-or-no question.”

“I went out,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t anything like – it wasn’t that.”

You feel like you’re the parent talking to a teenager who broke curfew.

“I fell asleep at a friend’s house,” she says. “I didn’t hear the phone ringing. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m honestly embarrassed.”

“You should be,” you spit. “Think about someone besides yourself for a change.”

You leave before she can react; you know that was out of line, and if she’d hit you for it you would have deserved it. You shake the whole way to the car, where Taehyung is leaning, waiting to open the door for you.

“You can go,” you tell him, not looking at him. “I’ll get home later, I’ll figure it out. You’ve already done too much, I can’t believe you slept on the couch because of me– I’m sorry– I-.”

He stops you. “Breathe.”

How come everyone is always telling you that?

You look at him, trying to follow directions.

“Let me take you home,” he says quietly. “You can shower and get comfortable and nap or whatever. I’ll get you food.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” you say, a little frustrated. “That’s boyfriend duties, you can just drop me off, it’s fine.”

He looks at you seriously, and you’re very aware that your mother is probably watching through the kitchen window right now. “What if I want the boyfriend duties?” he asks.

You’re reeling. His timing is terrible. You feel like a frayed wire from the last twelve hours – rushing to pick Sierra up, barely sleeping on the couch, worrying about potentially finding your mother in a hospital today, screaming at her just now, saying such hateful things…

But he was there for all of it, steady as a fucking rock, attentive and selfless. What kind of fool would turn that down?

Seo-yun’s words - and your own, honestly - swirl in the back of your mind. Two more weeks, tops…

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you whisper. You have no idea where your mind is right now. You need to sleep for eighteen hours and try again.

“I am extremely sure,” he tells you.

“After the hot mess you just witnessed?” you prod.

“I can handle your mess if you can handle mine,” he says seriously. “I want this, Y/N. I’ve been telling you since the lake and I’ve been trying to take it slow for your sake, but I can’t anymore. I want this.”

“Are you really sure?” you ask again, voice still a whisper.

He takes you home. You shower, braid your hair, and get back in bed. He lays with you, holding you tight, until you finally knock out. When you wake up, tangled together, you tell him, “I’m down if you are.”

“There’s gotta be a down bad joke in there,” he muses, and you smack his arm, rolling your eyes.

--

[2:36 pm] You: I’m sorry I said that to you. I was scared and angry. But I’m still sorry.

[2:49 pm] Mom: I appreciate the apology.

[2:50 pm] Mom: Anything else you want to tell me? Like maybe about the man who slept in my house with you last night?

[2:53 pm] You: apparently he’s my boyfriend…

--

[2:40 pm] You: Soooo I guess we’re official or whatever…

[2:41 pm] Nikki: SHUT UP

[2:41 pm] Nikki: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Next

Thank you so much for being here! I appreciate every single like and reblog!

Chapter 8 will include....... uh..... nothing, don't worry about it >________>

Please look forward to suffering it! Taglist | @rinkud

[iboatedhere]

Last WIP Wednesday for this fic hopefully. Rounding third and heading for home.

-

It takes a few games for Carlos to settle in with the team, but once he does, he’s invited out to post game dinners and parties, both filled with expensive food, alcohol, and women. 

At a rooftop bar at the hotel in Boston, after five straight nights of pretending to flirt with women to keep up appearances, he begs off early, telling the guys he had to ice his shoulder. 

They give him shit, but say their goodnights without too much hassle and Carlos is grateful. 

As soon as he’s back inside and far enough from the noise of the party, he pulls out his phone to call TK. 

He’s been in almost constant contact with his parents since getting called up, and he talks to Paul and a few of the other guys at least once a day, but it feels like he’s been playing phone tag with TK. 

There have been missed calls on both sides, and text messages answered hours after they’ve been sent. A like and an occasional comment on an Instagram post is as close as they’ve gotten to real contact in over a week. 

“Hello?”

Carlos nearly drops the phone when he hears TK’s voice. 

“Shit,” he says as he scrambles to keep hold of it. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Sorry,” TK apologizes as Carlos pushes the button for the elevator. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m glad you did. Shouldn’t you be at a game right now? Did I screw the timezones up?”

“We got rained out,” TK tells him. “Isn’t it a little late for you?”

Carlos steps out of the way as a group of party goers spill out of the elevator, already tipsy and laughing. 

“Where are you?”

He gets in the elevator car and pushes the button for his floor. “I’m going back to my room. The guys dragged me to a bar.”

TK hums. “That makes sense. We’ve all seen the photos of you getting into that cab with that woman.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, “you mean the ones where I made sure the woman got into a cab safely because she was drunk and then I closed the door and got into my own cab which took me in the opposite direction back to the hotel.”

“That’s not as good of a story.”

Carlos laughs. “I’m glad my parents know the truth. I’d be getting calls from my mother about how she raised me better.”

TK laughs. “How are your parents? I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been called up but I bet they act like it is.”

“They do. My dad is getting everyone he works with to watch and they’re throwing viewing parties at the ranch. They’re coming out to Houston for a few games next week, if I’m still here. They’re treating it like a mini vacation. They don’t get many of those.”

“That’s sweet that they’re still so excited. But what about you?”

“What about me?” Carlos asks as the doors open and he steps into the hallway. 

“Are you still excited? Are you doing okay?”

Carlos stops in the middle of the hall. “Yeah. I mean, this is the dream, right?”

“Is it?”

Carlos sighs and keeps walking. “I love it,” Carlos says honestly. “I love playing anywhere but the stadiums are so big and the crowds are so loud and the money,” he admits, “I know that makes me sound like an asshole—-.”

“It doesn’t,” TK assures him. “It’s not wrong to enjoy that.”

“The guys are great, really, they keep trying to hook me up with women but they don’t know any better. They mean well. It makes my parents happy when I’m here and I am happy but….” He trails off as he gets his door open then leans back against it. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” TK says and sighs in relief. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I feel like a dick because part of me knows that you’re doing what you’re supposed to do and I want you to be happy and have all that you deserve, and you deserve so much, but then the other half of me wants you here because I hate staying in this room all alone.”

“Most guys like privacy.”

“Yeah, they keep telling me I can bring a guy back but I can’t tell them that the only guy I want to do that with is halfway across the country.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, “so you miss me-miss me?”

TK snorts. “Yeah, for sure. I’m getting myself off to that night but I know the real thing would be so much better.”

Carlos groans and pushes himself away from the door toward the bed. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not? You’ve got that big hotel room all to yourself, don’t you? I’m all alone somewhere in Oklahoma. Seems like we shouldn’t let this moment go to waste.”

Carlos sits down on the edge of the bed and starts to unbutton his shirt. 

“So…” Carlos starts and TK bursts out laughing. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t done this before.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Carlos tells him as he pulls his shirt from his pants and tries to awkwardly take it off with one hand. “It’s been awhile.”

“You definitely knew what you were doing that night.”

“It’s easy with you,” Carlos says. He gets his shirt off then toes off his shoes and stands up. “How undressed are you?”

“That’s a weird way of asking me what I’m wearing.”

“I’m still in my suit and I’m trying to take it off—.”

“Hot,” TK interrupts and Carlos rolls his eyes. 

“—but it’s hard to do with one hand.”

“Then put the phone down for a second. Or, better yet…”

The call disconnects only to ring as a FaceTime call a second later.

“Hi,” TK says when Carlos answers. He’s propped up against the headboard, already shirtless. “Let me watch.”

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 45

Hi all,

Yours truly is going on holiday tomorrow, heading for Canada. This is the present to myself for my big bday in January. I am so excited about being able to travel again. It will be cool to be on the same timezone as the majority of you and see Tumblr when it's usually day for me. Any way, since I am going away I am posting a chapter for you all.

MASTERLIST// CH.44

The following morning Aelin arrived at the station bright and early. So early that Pete’s team was still on duty.

“Cap, good morning.”

She smiled at the man “Hi you. How was the shift?”

“The night was quiet but we had a busy afternoon and we had a false alarm at a school. A kid pulled the fire alarm to get out probably.”

Aelin groaned in protest, even with four teams it was a dangerous thing “no dangerous calls? Was the ambulance all ok?”

Her relief captain nodded “they went out on their own a few times but all legitimate calls,” the man sighed heavily “what is happening is sick. I am terrified every time the ambulance goes out alone. I almost ordered my team to go out with them every time.”

Aelin placed a hand on his shoulder. Pete had a tough exterior but she knew that he was a good man underneath and he cared deeply about his team.

“I heard about Ress and Asterin.”

Aelin sat on the bumper of the engine “I was at the hospital before coming here,” she told him “Ress is going home in two days but Asterin is still out.”

“How is your team coping?”

“Angry.”

The both were silent for a moment “Dorian found us two floaters, that’s why I am here a bit early.”

“You can use the office.”

Aelin shook her head “it’s yours until the end of the shift. I will camp in the common room and catch up with the team.”

An hour later second shift had started filing out and her team was slowly arriving. She was on the apparatus floor when she noticed two new faces advancing hesitantly to the main doors.

Aelin pulled up the rolling doors and joined them “Good morning, I guess you are Rolfe and Sorrel.”

The woman nodded while the man looked around the station “Nice digs you have here, Galathynius.”

Aelin turned to him and glared at the man “Welcome to east station. My team is almost all here, in the meantime I can show you were to get changed and you can choose your bed.”

“Thank you, captain,” said Sorrel with a happy smile. Rolfe just grunted. Good, they had given her a grump. Manon could probably chew him up. Oh yes, she was sending him to truck. He could be Ress’ replacement, while she kept Sorrel to sub for Asterin and be on engine with her.

“There are some free lockers, choose one and take a strip of paper tape and write your name on.”

Aelin let them get changed and then took them around the station. They choose their bunk too and once that was out of the way they walked back to the common room “the guys are probably having breakfast. We always tend to when we start a shift in the morning. It’s a nice ritual and there is always plenty of food.”

Sorrel smiled eagerly. Oh yes, she was going to like the woman.

Once inside the room she found her team deep in discussion “Good morning, my minions.”

Heads turned “Morning, cap.” They all said.

“Team, I have two people I’d like to introduce you. They are Rolfe and Sorrel. They will be subbing for Ress and Asterin.”

Sorrel waved at the team of people in front of her “I all, I am so excited to be here. I heard great thing about this station.”

Rolfe just nodded.

“Sorrel, Rolfe let me introduce the team.” Aelin took a step away “This is Manon and she is my acting lieutenant and my second. She has her exam coming up next week and she is in charge of truck. Needless to say that her orders are, just as mine, law.” Then she moved along the line “This is Brullo and he is an acting lieutenant too and he is in charge of the engine and his exam is next week and yes, you need to listen to him if you are on engine,” she continued to the rest of the team “This is Nox. He is the engine driver and our mechanic.” She turned and pointed at Ansel “Ansel is our truck driver.” A scoff came from Rolfe and the whole team glared at him.

“Problems?”Aelin challenged him but the man had the god sense of keeping his mouth shut. Aelin went through all the team members one by one. Rolfe did not make any more comment and she was glad. Her team was the one with the highest presence of females in the all of the TFD and she was proud of it. Marcus was trying but after loosing Lizzie to her own command he was back being an all boy’s club, something that he had told her plenty of times he was not happy about.

Once the introductions were over the team went back to their breakfast and she took Manon aside “of all the people… Rolfe? Really?”

Aelin looked at the woman “do you know him?”

Manon shook her head “No, but Asterin worked with him at regional six and did not have a good opinion of him.”

Aelin sighed “He is subbing for Ress so if we are lucky it’s only for a month.” At those words Manon sighed relieved.

“Will you be okay working with him?”

An evil grin spread on the face of her second “if he thinks he can intimidate me he has a surprise coming for him.”

“I went to see Asterin and Ress this morning.” She added quietly “Ress is in good spirits and Asterin not much change but Sorscha told me that her sats are looking much better and it seems they had managed to avoid ARDS to develop.”

Manon sighed deeply “Any word from the police?”

“I haven’t checked my emails yet.”

“It’s election day today.”

Aelin had completely forgotten “Both truck and engine need a fuel top up. We’ll stop at our local poll. If the girls need to feed the ambulance they can join us or they can go after they come back from a call.”

Manon nodded “I’ll let them know.”

“How do you feel about the exam?”

Manon nodded “Both Brullo and I have been studying a lot and the whole team helped quizzing us.”

Aelin smiled “Good, I want to call you both lieutenants.”

“Thank you for the opportunity. It means a lot to me and although I miss Aedion running the show on truck, I am loving being in charge.”

“You deserved it.”

*

Later on, after a call and filling up the tanks of the vehicles Aelin directed her team to their local polling station.

Seeing the fire department pulling up in front of the building scared the living daylights out of everybody but Aelin just calmed all by saying that they were there to fulfil their civil duty. After that the people present started clapping and a few people went to shake their hands and pass they thank you for what they were doing for the community. Aelin smiled and felt a pang of pride in her team and how hard they had worked under all the circumstances.

They were exiting the building when the radios became alive “Main to east, man impaled, 72 Baker st.”

“Copy that main, east en route.” Quickly they ran back to he vehicles sirens blaring “bet on impaled on what,” joked Nox while taking the wheel.

“On a rake.” Said Luca.

“How?” Added Brullo.

“I don’t know, someone really bad at gardening?”

Aelin smiled, it was a game of theirs to relax before a call, to make weird assumption about the incident.

“I bet on a fence,” added Sorrel shyly, trying to join in the fun.

“Interesting…”

They arrived at the site and saw a woman ran after towards them “Help me. He fell.”

She guided them through the house and to the back and they saw it. The man was impaled on the metal fence of the garden.

Aelin looked up and had an idea of what happened. Stupid people not following health and safety rules.

“He was on the ladder to fix the light on the roof of the balcony. He reached over to grab a tool and lost balance.”

“Luca grab the powered saw. Manon, you and Borte hold the fence.”

Luca came back with the saw. Aelin wore her protective goggles and Sorrellremoved her bunker gear to place it on the man’s head for protection.

“What are you doing? Are you leaving him impaled?” Shouted the woman.

Wes walked to her “if we remove the metal bar he will bleed out well before he reaches the hospital, so we are just cutting it and the ambulance will take him to the hospital.”

“Ok, I need you to keep the bar as still as you can. Any movement and we risk cause more damage.”

Luca sat in front of the man and talked to him to reassure him as soon as the cutting started and the victim began screaming.

“Tell Lys and Elide to be ready,” was Brullo’s order to Rolfe who was standing watching in silence.

The paramedics arrived and assessed the situation while Aelin was still cutting the metal.

“Elide, once he is free we are going to pad heavily both sides and make sure the bar does not move.”

“He’s free.” Announced Aelin stepping back to let the medics work.

Lys and Elide stabilised him and Kyllian helped them carefully lift the gurney.

“You can come with us,” said Lys to the woman.

The ambulance rolled away and the two teams cleared up “On engine Sorrel won, what about truck?”

“Me!” Said a cheery Ansel “I said impaled on a fence. Had no idea on how but I had the right guess.”

Aelin laughed “let’s get back to quarters.”

Once in the engine Aelin turned to Sorrel “well done on working on your own initiative.”

“Thank ma’am. My lieutenant always pushed me to act and not always wait for an order. My captain hated me for being willing to help.”

Aelin snorted “which team?”

“This was at regional twelve. The captain there hates having women. He called us useless and even the lieutenant, she had no power.”

A snarl came from Aelin. After Sorrel’s time at east was over she’d ask if Aedion would take her as permanent member. His was a brand new house and she knew he was not yet fully staffed.

“The regional teams have some of the worst members ever.”Added Ansel.

Aelin looked at them both “you are now in a house that appreciates you.” Then looked at Sorrel “I will ask Aedion if he has a spot for you when you are done subbing here. He has a good team.”

Aelin was raging. She had to find a way to get rid of the stigma of women as firefighters. The situation had improved immensely since she had started but had no idea how bad it was in the regional teams. That was definitely going to be her next challenge. She had convinced the airforce, now it was time to push for some changes in her job too.

*

Once back at the station Aelin noticed Dorian’s pick up and groaned. She could not cope with more bad news.

“Manon, get truck and engine checked and well… you know the drill.”

The other woman nodded sharply and as Aelin entered the common room she spotted Dorian lounging on their sofa “You comfy there, chief?”

She saw Dorian stand “That is a bad news face.”

“Mostly an update.” He tilted his head and Aelin started walking to her office. Once inside he took his usual seat.

“Detective Ytger gave me an update and thinks there is a mole in the hospital.”

Aelin gasped. That was bad.

“All the drugs that went missing were from their main pharmacy storage. Mostly fentanyl, morphine and other opioids used by the hospital.”

“Of course,” said Aelin “stealing from the main storage will draw less attention. In the small supply closet is much easier to spot missing stock.”

“Sorscha told me the hospital is helping PD and doing checks on all employees. She has a suspicion on a new nurse called Maeve. Apparently joined them just before everything started so the detectives are now investigating.”

Aelin sighed and sat on her office chair “this is a fucking mess.”

“The hospital is implementing stricter restriction and a better way to record any use of controlled drugs.” He explained.

“What about our paramedics going out on a call? We have three in the hospital.”

“I know.”

“And?”

Dorian ran a hand through his hair and he looked tired and older all of a sudden “Chief Harker cannot pull the ambulances, you know that. We asked PD to track them with the street cameras as much as possible but you know that it’s not 100% coverage.”

Aelin sighed “that is not enough. Every time they gt out I fear they will have to be carried to the hospital or even worse in a body bag. I am scared for Lys and Elide.”

Dorian sighed and she knew he was trying to do all he could. Aelin felt bad for grilling him. It was not his fault after all. Dorian was just as worried.

“Chief Harker and the ambulance services have been working on plans but short of stopping all the ambulances there is no other way.”

Aelin leaned back on her chair “I know, Dorian.”

“How are the two replacements?”

“Sorrel is wonderful, Rolfe is… challenging but I put him on truck with Manon.”

Dorian laughed hard “that was a brilliant move. She is not easily intimidated.”

“Did you manage to vote?”

“I went very early this morning before coming on shift.”

“We need change.”

They both nodded and kept catching up on work until Dorian admitted he had to go back to the office and pretend to work.

*

When Aelin woke up the next morning she walked to the common room and saw it for once busy. Every one was in front of the tv as the election result were announced live for each constituency as the results came in.

“How is it going?” She sat at the table with coffee and her breakfast.

“So far we have four constituencies in and the opposition has won with a landslide majority. East Orynth hasn’t come in yet,” explained Brullo “and if we keep the current government in this corner I am asking Dorian to move our station.”

Laughter spread in the room.

“Did Rowan manage to vote?”

“He applied for postal vote as soon as he realised he was going to be in Rifthold.”

“Good man.”

Aelin nodded “any constituency that is risking staying with the bad guys?”

Ren shook his head “the exit polls are predicting a crushing defeat.”

Aelin smiled “oh, that makes my day better already.”

“We are expecting the full results around ten tonight.”

“Okay guys, I know the excitement but we are at work. We can leave the tv on so we have a constant update, but let’s not forget our tasks.” And she looked at Manon.

“They all already gave all of their jobs assigned. We were just finishing breakfast.”

“Absolutely,” said Aelin while drinking coffee “finish breakfast first.”

It was later in the afternoon when the political coverage was interrupted by some breaking news.

Aelin was passing in front of the tv when she spotted it. She grabbed the remote and punched up the volume.

“Meteorologists have released a red alert for the weekend. A very cold front is moving towards Terrasen and it’s expected to hit tomorrow. Heavy snowstorms are expected to batter the region and temperatures plunging as low as -15 degrees. The red alert is the highest possible and the population is advised not to leave their homes until is safe to do so.”

“Guys!” She shouted to her team then pointed at the tv as they came in.

“The storm is supposed to bring heavy snowfalls and winds up to 130kph. This is according to the meteorological services one of the biggest and worst storm in over twenty years and it’s expected to last the entire weekend.”

As soon as the announcement was over Aelin sprang into action.

“Brullo, Luca, I want the two of you to do an inventory of the pantry. And go and buy anything that you think we need for supplies.”

She turned to Manon “Implement the emergency plan. Have Nox do a full check of our generators. I want to make sure truck and engine are ready to go. Shift changeover is meant to be tomorrow but that will not happen. I will not have second team risk drive in. We are here already and it’s the safest thing. I will discuss this with Dorian but I do not want the guys to drive if it’s going to be as bad as predicted.”

The team nodded in agreement.

“With such a bad storm we can expect power-cuts, meaning that people might seek shelter. We are that shelter. So we need to be prepared for that too.” She added “go in the storage room upstairs and see how many folding beds we have and have a look at how many spare blankets we have.”

The storm was not meant to hit until later that night so they had time to plan. She ran back to her office and had a chat with Dorian about the plan and he gave his blessing, also to the one to use the firehouse for shelter.

She was about to go back when her phone rang. Rowan.

“Hey,”

“I just heard.”

“Snowstorm.”

“Yes.” He replied sadly “if it’s going to be as bad as they predict I will not be able to fly in.”

“I know. Don’t worry. It’s not safe.”

Rowan chuckled “more likely I would not be able to see and the airport and the airbase will be closed.”

“I know. We’ll be fine. I will miss you but there is nothing I can do and don’t even think about driving.”

“Never.” He sighed “this sucks.”

Aelin sat back on her chair “we will be busy anyway. In these situations firehouses work as shelters. We have power generators.”

“Stay safe please.”

“Will do.” She told him “I have to go. There’s a lot of stuff to do to prepare.”

“Of course, go.” He chuckled “I will text you tonight after the election results.”

Aelin smiled “I love you.”

“Same here menace.”

*

It was late afternoon when the storm eventually reached Orynth. The sky had turned dark very quickly and the snow began falling heavily since the afternoon. The wind had started pick up speed as well and they could now hear it rattling the heavy rolling sliding doors. The team was safely gathered in the common room having soup for dinner. They just hoped not to have to go out on a call. Visibility was close to zero.

The news switched between updates on the storm and the elections.

Aelin had called the other captains and they were all in the same situation. Aedion had just started the shift that morning and, like them he was stuck at his house for the weekend. He said that they already had some people coming in seeking help. Some areas of south Orynth had already lost power. Aelin was counting the minutes until it happened to their area.

All of a sudden a loud cheer erupted. Their constituency had been the last to be announced and the opposition party had won there too with a whopping 90% of the votes. It had been amazing. According to the final results the opposition had won the elections in a landslide victory with 85% of the votes. A record in Orynth’s history with an affluence to the ballots of about 97% of the eligible population. The whole ordeal had been earmarked as an historical vote.

Aelin was grinning and in that instant her phone pinged we won. Had texted Rowan.

“Lorcan is on his way here. Is it okay Aelin?”

“Of course he can stay but he needs to be less grumpy or I leave him out in the cold.”

Elide grinned “miracles this big take time.”

Heavy curses erupted when dispatch alarm went off. No one wanted to leave but it was their job.

“Nox, Ansel, Lys, driving conditions will be hellish. Safety.”

They all climbed in the vehicles and as they left the firehouse Aelin’s heart sank. The snowploughs had been out already and the road was reasonably clear but the heavy winds were blowing the snow and visibility was bad.

“Nox easy. We can’t risk being in an accident ourselves. This big boy at least it’s heavy and will keep us grounded. I assume we have winter tyres.”

“Yes ma’am. We changed them over in November.”

She nodded happily. She knew Nox would take always good care of their vehicles.

“That’s why you are in charge of the mechanical side.”

They arrived at the scene ten minutes later. It was not far away but it felt like a life time.

A woman met them on the pavement “it’s my neighbours. They are elderly and I went to check on them. I looked through the window and I think they have fainted.”

Aelin reassured the woman they were going to help them.

“Possible carbon monoxide poisoning.”

Brullo grabbed a sensor with a thin probe and squeezed it through the door. The device beeped angrily “reading are over the safety limit.”

“Brullo, you and Luca are coming with me.”

The young man broke the window and then with his hand he reached inside the door and unlocked it.

“Mask up.”

While Luca and Brullo went to look for the cause of the leak she went to the couple on the floor. They had a pulse. Very weak but they were alive. Over the radio she asked for help and Manon joined and together they carried out the couple one at a time and left them in the care of Lys and Elide.

Brullo and Luca came back five minutes later saying that the cooker had been left on and had been the source of carbon monoxide leak. They had switched off the main gas line in the house.

Aelin went to the neighbour and updated her on the situation and the woman was going to call the daughter and give her an update.

The ambulance was away and the two vehicles started their trip back to the station.

An hour later they heard the power generator kick in and as Aelin walked to the big doors she saw that all the lights had gone off and the street and the houses had plunged into darkness.

Lorcan had arrived five minutes earlier carrying food and supplies after Elide told him that the station was likely to become a shelter. Aelin had phoned Emrys and Malakai and ordered to walk down the road and join them. The two lived all the way up in the north of the city and she had no intention of sending them away on a car trip.

The two men arrived half an hour later in their car and started to unload containers and the team went to help them. Emrys had explained that if they were going to be closed for a few days they could not leave the food to go bad so they had brought all the perishable supplies.

Both men had said they were going to cook for everyone as a thank you.

Around seven some people had started to trickle in asking for shelter. A few families with kids had dropped in as well saying that the houses had started to go cold. They had moved truck, engine and the ambulance toward the front as much as possible to create space for the people to camp.

Emrys had started cooking as soon as he settled down and the common room was now smelling wonderfully. The guys had started giving the kids a tour of the two big trucks and that had been a very popular method of entertainment.

Most of the families that had started to arrive had brought their mats to sleep on offering to leave the beds to the elderly or kids. Aelin had gone around the firehouse meeting the people who thanked her so much for allowing them to seek shelter. With the help of Ansel she had been distributing blankets to those in need and suggested that dinner was coming. Some people had already quietly camped in the apparatus floor, others had gathered for the time being in the common room. Having that many people in a firehouse made her nervous but Dorian gave his blessing and they were the only place that could offer warmth and a safe haven. She had engrained in the adults’ brain to keep an eye in the children. The trucks were not a playing ground so they had to keep the wee ones away explaining that the compartments could not be locked and contained dangerous tools. The ambulance had it easier since they could actually lock it. That new feature had been installed recently and could only be opened by a key that was safely hidden on Lys.

When Emrys announced that dinner was ready, happiness spread through the station. People gathered to get their food and also helped distribute it around. A few families had camped at the back of the station and had created a cosy corner with a lot of blankets they had brought over. The kids were playing quietly.

One girl, around twelve with bright red hair and green eyes who reminded her a lot of Ansel approached Aelin and confessed that she wanted to be a firefighter. Aelin was beaming so she called both Manon and Ansel and introduced them to the girl. They explained that there was another woman who was now in hospital and she had been amazed at seeing all those women as firefighter. The girl had confessed that both her parents and teacher had told her that it was not a profession suited for women since it was hard physical work.

Aelin had been fuming and had told the girl she was the first woman to become a firefighter and a captain. The expression on the girl’s face had been priceless.

Later on she was sitting in a corner with Manon and Ansel, having dinner “I am so tired of hearing parents and teacher telling young kids what they can and can’t do according to gender.”

Ansel scoffed “my teacher told me that I should have gone into teaching.”

Manon snorted while drinking her coke “Sorry, it would like suggesting me to become a counsellor.”

Aelin laughed. Ansel had very little patience with kids and Manon would make the worst counsellor ever.

“I want to fix this. I want to do something to show these girls they can be anything they want to be.”

“What you have in mind? Because Ansel and I will join you and when Asterin gets back she will too.”

Aelin played distracted with her food “I don’t know go to community centres and organise session for girls and explore their options? Show them what we can do?”

Manon paused “that is a great start. What about having days with other successful women? Inspire them. They need to see that is doable and hear the testimony of more of us who made it no matter the gender.”

Ansel smiled “you can call Sellene. Law is another boys’ club.”

Aelin nodded. Sellene seemed the kind of person who would join in.

“Aedion might have contacts in the army.”

Aelin shook her head “I have those, same for the Navy. Two of Rowan’s exes will be perfect.”

Ansel looked at her “exes?”

“Oh yes, they are awesome. I met them at the navy party. I love them a lot.”

Both Manon and Ansel looked at her in suspicion.

“What? It ended ages ago. One of them is engaged and the other is just a good friend.”

“Are they hot?” Asked Ansel.

Aelin nodded eagerly “Kat, the available one, is very much your type.”

Ansel rubbed her hands “I am looking forward to meet her.”

“What about Fen?” Asked Manon.

“Oh, we are not exclusive. It was the rule from the start. No strings attached.”

“How is he doing at the academy?” That was a question from Manon for both.

“Oh he is good. Really good. And I don’t know if it’s military training, but he is the most well behaved.”

“Which is saying a lot considering his past.” Added Ansel “but he loves it a lot and he seems like a new man. Even Connall is amazed by the change.”

“I have seen it too. I am so happy for him.”

“Now we just need to get your man out of the airforce.”

Aelin gave Ansel a tight smile “Eventually.” She stood “I am getting more food.” And walked away to avoid the subject. A selfish part of her wished he had been kicked out altogether. A part of her that did not have the guts to voice that thought to him. It was not fair.

Quietly she walked once more around the house and made sure everyone was okay and settled in for the night. In the common room she saw a group of people helping out. A few of them had been gathering all the dishes and a couple of men had offered to help clean up. When Aelin protested they told her that as guests it was their duty to help out and that it was a way to show how grateful they were. No one wanted to feel like a burden.

Aelin hid in her office and did some paperwork. She was not going to sleep much anyway.

An hour into her work, Rowan called her, so she put the phone on loud speaker “hi you.”

“How’s my favourite firefighter?”

“Working a bit. The firehouse has become a safe house and there’s people everywhere. I just needed a bit of peace.”

“How bad is the storm?”

Aelin sighed “bad. We were out on a call and visibility was terrible. The wind is savage and I am positive the whole of Orynth is without power. Definitely us and south.”

“I have seen the news and showed a video to Mark. He couldn’t believe it.”

Aelin laughed “they have sand storms.”

“The news says that the worst will be tomorrow.”

A deep sigh filled the line “I know. I am scared of the aftermath.” A pause “Lorcan is here, by the way.”

Rowan laughed “he told me. He admitted he misses his storm buddy to play paramedic.”

“Well. He has been really helpful but the kids are scared of him. They call him grumpy giant.”

Another laugh came from Rowan “he does not like kids.”

This time it was Aelin’s turn to laugh “we told them he is a pilot. Now they all love him.” She finished a couple of things “but we promised everyone storytelling with Emrys.”

“He is there?”

“Yes.” And Aelin explained him about getting the couple to the station.

Rowan sighed “sound like I am missing a ton of fun.”

“We are keeping ourselves busy.”

“So, what about the elections? Have you seen the results?”

Aelin cheered loudly “it’s incredible and not just the result. The turnout as well. I am impressed.”

“Loads of people wanting change.” He added.

“Now they better deliver, because if they don’t I can see a rebellion happening.”

Rowan laughed “you are always so dramatic.”

Aelin scoffed “I want central station back.”

“Fireheart, there are a lot of issues that need solving.”

“Give us back our last station and keeping the city safe is an important one.” She argued back and Rowan yielded. She could get quite fiery when it came to politics.

“Do you have any plans on what you’ll do now that you are not coming?”

He sighed deeply “honestly no, I might go out for a hike. I have no idea.”

A text pinged in Aelin’s phone. She looked at it and swore “Ro, I gotta go.”

“I did not hear dispatch alarm.”

“It’s Sellene…” and she hang up leaving Rowan in a panic over his cousin.

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@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @courtofjurdan @whimsicallyreading @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @acreativelydifferentlove @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water

[recreancyrpg]

Welcome to Recreancy, Nat!

You have been accepted for the role of EVAN ROSIER, with the faceclaim change of Manny Jacinto!

He would never admit it out loud, but most Order members are people he would consider friends. Things have hit a point where he trusts them more than the carefully picked friendships his parents forced upon him to make sure he was surrounded by people who had their best interests in the Rosier family’s legacy.

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Nat, she/her

AGE: 25+

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: 5/10 — I work multiple jobs, am considered a full-time graduate student, and co-admin a group of my own so I can be rather inconsistent with replies. Not inconsistent enough to not be able to post 2-3 replies a week but there are the occasional moments of overwhelm where I may get only one or none up. If it’s a case of not getting anything up I will reach out since I’m not one for dropping without a warning — ideally, that won’t happen but still just giving that disclaimer as a heads up.

ANYTHING ELSE: No triggers. Experience wise… I have been rping since Neopets’ forums. Evan would be a new muse for me. My go-to characters are usually Regulus, Frank, Lucius, Ted, Sirius, and Remus.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Evan Rosier

AGE: 29

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-male, he/him, bisexual but would claim he is straight is asked

I don’t think he’s done a lot of exploring with his sexuality but am also like nah, I could totally see him having snogged a few people of the same sex back at Hogwarts either out of curiosity or from being a tad inebriated. I hc him as having been paranoid about outright upsetting his father while growing up and could see the narrative of marriage and producing an heir being stressed as the “right” path.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin — near hat stall between Ravenclaw and Slytherin 

ANY CHANGES: I would like to see a fc change but am not overly picky. Three I’m throwing in as suggestions include Manny Jacinto, Richard Madden, and Nolan Gerard Funk.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: 

The unresolved: cigarette butts. saving everyone but yourself. stargazer. deep breaths. black coffee. the scent of a forest after it rains. rose petals. bloodied knuckles. talking to plants to help them grow. conflicted. there to offer a helping hand. breakfast in bed. uncertain paths. holding hands beneath the table. kill them with kindness.

Strengths and weaknesses:

As the Rosier heir, Evan was raised in a way that instilled traits that the Rosier parents knew would be expected of the son that would eventually take over the family name. Although kind enough to care about their children, Evan’s parents made it clear there was no room for error during his early years. They expected their heir to be compliant, intelligent, and determined. Evan was raised knowing there would be consequences if he behaved in a way that made other families look down on him. Large infractions usually involved unsavory punishments and Evan was quick-witted enough to learn and accept there was little room to do the opposite of what was expected while growing up.

Even-tempered and resourceful are other words that could be used to describe the Rosier heir. Those ones didn’t come about until school made it possible for him to explore his sense of self without his father keeping an eye on every move he made.

On the negative end of things, Evan can be described as cunning and anxious. Feelings of anxiety are something he hasn’t been able to shake, primarily stemming from the few occasions where his behavior earned his being on the receiving end of his father’s disappointment and rage toward his actions. The sense of cunning is one that came naturally. He was raised knowing he was destined for greatness and taught to do whatever it took to get what he needed. Evan can occasionally be deceptive and proved to be quite charming during his Hogwarts years. A sly smile and smooth tongue had Professors wrapped around his fingers.

Although raised with pureblood ideologies, Evan knew to keep his prejudiced thoughts to himself, being calculated enough to save them for a situation with few witnesses. Salazar knew his father would have had something to say if word got back about Evan earning detentions for hexing or speaking poorly of other students. It meant forced pleasantries when stuck working with students the family would have considered lesser and feigning tolerance.

There is also a sense of kindness or empathy that Evan cannot avoid. It comes with the territory of having multiple sisters and having settled on healing as an occupation. This leaves the potential of being called soft, but Evan willingly uses the Healer’s Oath as an excuse for explaining being ready to clean up the aftermath of either side’s actions.

Excels and struggles:

Studies are where Evan most excelled. He has a thirst for knowledge that left him eager to learn. A strong memory made it easy to recall the more in-depth parts of the books he read. Healing was not his calling at first. The exams and work that were necessary for proving himself as a capable Mediwizard were grueling but necessary in ensuring the family name remained relevant and undoubted.

Evan’s favorite pastimes include herbology and dueling - a particularly odd combination but it has proven to come in handy now that things have picked up. He has a garden back at his flat and has been working to grow most of the herbs that are necessary for basic healing.

As of recent, Evan has been struggling to find a sense of self. His path was clearly laid out for him at birth and his involvement with the Order has left him wondering if his family picked the wrong side to support. Witnessing the Death Eater’s carnage firsthand has left him sick to his stomach. There is a lot of confusion since the task of infiltrating the Order was one he once considered an honor. The plan was to bring it down from the inside. No strings attached and no room for feeling guilty.

As the years of working with the Order have gone on, Evan has seen his feelings toward the idea shift. What was once considered an honor is now something that has left him bordering on properly defecting from the Death Eaters. The information he has been relaying back to the Dark Lord has been carefully crafted as of recent - no room for doubt and his providing minimal enough information to not give immediate locations of Order plans away.

He would never admit it out loud, but most Order members are people he would consider friends. Things have hit a point where he trusts them more than the carefully picked friendships his parents forced upon him to make sure he was surrounded by people who had their best interests in the Rosier family’s legacy.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Trigger warning: Neglect and child abuse referenced below

Evan was raised with everything he could have ever wanted and more. No request was too obscene and his parents doted on him and his sisters. He was raised as the heir - strict expectations and dire consequences if he couldn’t follow through on things. Being compliant meant toeing the line and doing as was expected. The few times he didn’t stand out as unfavorable memories. Skipped meals and the occasional slap were reserved for minor infractions. Major ones involved the use of his father’s wand. Evan has three scars along his left calf from having misbehaved while growing up. The process of earning them was traumatic enough to keep him from misbehaving and his father gave a strict order of allowing it to heal the muggle way - no salves or bandages to assist the deep cuts his wand made. Although positioned in a way to avoid the public eye, they served as a stark reminder that every misstep has its consequences.

Evan took on the role of leader when it came to his siblings. He set a good example and was quick to step up and claim to be at fault if it turned into his siblings being blamed for anything. The habit of taking the fall for his sisters was all too natural - where the family expected perfection, it was on him to ensure the younger Rosiers did as they were told. His saying he was disappointed in his siblings carried just as much of an effect as his mother or father saying the same did. At the end of the day, he would do anything for his sisters.

The only catch with Evan stems from his having avoided being bullied into a betrothal for over a decade now. According to his parents, he is unwilling to settle and still has time to find someone. They view him as dedicated to his work and the Death Eaters and haven’t fully pushed things since it took several years for Evan to earn his spot at St. Mungo’s. With Evan, it’s merely a matter of having an interest in someone his father wouldn’t approve of. The conversation has yet to involve properly-being face to face with his parents on the matter so he is more than happy to put it off, knowing the blow if he ever properly turns his back on the Death Eaters would be worse than admitting he’s head over heels for a half-blood.

Prejudices are something that were instilled in Evan from a young age. The family is of pure blood and fraternizing with anyone of lesser blood was strictly prohibited to the point where his parents decided which families had children that were appropriate for their son to befriend. He was raised wanting for nothing and his pompous attitude was something his parents didn’t disapprove of. Evan learned from the actions of his housemates that Hogwarts had consequences for those prejudices. He was able to keep them to himself for the most part but they are still there lurking beneath the surface and occasionally come to light.

The last couple of years of his life have been spent battling those prejudices and trying to unlearn some of the beliefs that were drilled into him as a child.

OCCUPATION:

Mediwizard - up for a promotion to one of the heads of the floor he works on at St. Mungo’s. He has seen a lot of carnage from the dueling sides and has taken the stance of assisting each side as long as he's undercover.

LIVING SITUATION: 

Evan has a two-bedroom flat. The first bedroom is his and the second belongs to an incredibly spoiled Chow Chow puppy named Ourse. There is a carefully crafted greenhouse in his yard that houses the plants he uses for healing Order and Death Eater members alike.

His most recent development housing-wise is finally having convinced Theo to move in since they were practically living together anyway.

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX: 

Evan serves as a mediwizard for the Order. Initially, he wanted nothing to do with healing Order members since the Death Eaters had him as the on-call healer for emergency situations. The Healer’s Oath, however, left him quickly realizing both sides would have to benefit from his skills. He has gotten far too used to people showing up bloodied on his doorstep, miraculously having kept healing the dueling sides a secret over the years through a strict ‘not assisting if not given a warning’ rule, merely requesting a patronus or owl be sent before showing up. 

As for feelings toward the Order, Evan has settled on beginning to believe he picked the wrong side of the war. He cannot wrap his head around why the Death Eaters are targeting blood traitors - more specifically, those that are of the Sacred 28. He questions what more damage will come from the Death Eaters turning on their own kind. The Order seems like the more reasonable cause to support but he knows vocally admitting such will not end well.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

Theodosia Selwyn: Hard, and getting harder all the time. An enigma at first, Theo’s arrival into Evan’s life was rather perplexing. He had to give some credit though since the girl had a lot of nerve in approaching the Slytherins to question their pureblood upbringings. He was willing to open up once Theodosia proved to be of use to him. Although raised with prejudices dating back for generations, Evan was more than happy to welcome the Ravenclaw into his ranks upon discovering how similar they were. She was clever and an asset to him so it only made sense to associate with her in a way similar to how the younger Slytherins welcomed Severus Snape.

Sleeping together wasn’t supposed to be serious — at least that was the agreement while in school. No strings attached, no feelings. Simply using each other as an excuse to relieve the stress of exams in her sixth year and his seventh and maintaining the close friendship that developed over the years. Fast forward a decade later and the two have hit the point of being nearly inseparable. There isn’t a specific date that comes to mind in regards to officially getting together with Theo. Evan knows things have hit a point where he can’t imagine a life without her at his side. He has been toying around with the idea of properly proposing, having kept the ring well hidden in one of the drawers of the flat they share.

It’s merely a matter of needing to navigate the potential consequences of admitting his loyalties have shifted - something that has left him regretting having introduced her to the Dark Lord’s cause in the first place - before he takes that next step. 

Frank Longbottom: Doubt comes in and leaves a trace of vinegar and turpentine… Guilt has been the most recent feeling to come up when thinking about Frank. The two were close as children and drifted apart during Hogwarts. It was all too easy to use him as a way of getting into the Order and the stupidity in not questioning his motives was something Evan boasted about when first joining. Things are hitting the point where Evan would be able to say he trusts Franks with his life - a rather bold statement to come from someone who had initially joined as a way of feeding information back to the Death Eaters.

Daisy Hookum: Who the hell do you think you're talking to? A minor annoyance since he did not expect joining the Order to mean being bombarded by questions about pureblood life. Although attempting to unlearn some of his prejudices, he still can’t fathom why Daisy is so fascinated by the muggle way of life.

Hestia Jones: That’s the way the river runs. The habit of not referring to Order members is something that Evan has been trying to strengthen ever since he started doubting his stance with the Death Eaters. Evan has let Hestia in closer than most members of the Order. He has come to trust her and is rather thrown off by the dynamic between them. Having paid little mind to Hestia past the occasional chuckle at his housemates’ crude comments of her upbringing has left him wondering if not properly interacting with non-purebloods during his Hogwarts years was a mistake.

James Potter/Marlene Mckinnon/Emmeline Vance/Gideon Prewett: Doubt comes in, the wind is changing… Healing the four was an eye-opening experience for Evan. The worst part of things was knowing his own acquaintances had been the ones to do the damage. Guilt and doubt settled in and Evan is more uncertain than he was before they went missing. There is something completely unsettling in knowing that the Death Eaters targeted a member of the Sacred 28 - even with the Prewetts having been labeled traitors. Uncertainty has been plaguing him ever since he went out of his way to heal the injuries of the four and try to regularly check-in to make sure there were no lingering injuries.

Severus Snape: Oh, you gotta keep your head low, if you wanna keep your head... Too much time was spent carefully crafting the lie of serving the Order but spying for the other side. If Severus were to find out, it would mean their having the ability to undo all the work that Evan put into building relationships and maintaining the fact that he is, in fact, solely focused on the Order. Evan is more amused than anything else that the younger Death Eater has yet to figure out there are four spies among the Order. (I am willing to go Evan took one look at that situation and went “Alright, Theo, Emma… Don’t tell them. We’re placing bets on how long it will take for them to realize.” if the other two muns are okay with that)

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: Anything works for me as long as there is chemistry!

INTERPERSONAL STRUGGLES: 

I would say Evan spends a lot of time walking on eggshells. He certainly would have his guard down by this point but his relationships early on in things would have been his deliberately trying to distance himself. He’s kept his death eater affiliation under wraps since joining and intends to keep it that way.

Where it’s been several years of working with the cause, he has come out of his shell but still carries a lot of anxiety toward the Order finding out his original affiliation or the Death Eaters discovering his plans of defecting to the other side. Either option is unthinkable since it would mean losing the support system he has come to rely on or being branded a traitor and facing the consequences that accompany that. Or worse, both.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? My application is 100% Rachie’s fault since she nudged me and I have zero self-control when it comes to rps that have a new take on the Marauders’ universe. 

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Throwing a younger sister of his into the mix could be interesting - especially if it’s a case of her not being marked and Evan never expecting to have direct family involved in either cause. Evan 100% would’ve taken the mark for the sake of his siblings not having to do the same and would’ve been silent about infiltrating the Order. I didn’t really dive into his family as deeply as I could have for the sake of acknowledging I’d be down for his having a sibling join the group.

ANYTHING ELSE? Pinterest. Playlist. Thank you for taking the time to read this over.

[tmae3114]

IT MAY HAVE GONE MIDNIGHT MY TIME BUT IT’S STILL HERO APPRECIATION DAY IN SOME TIMEZONE AND THEREFORE YOU GET THIS FIC I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED AFTER WORKING ON IT FOR A WHILE ON THE BEST DAY FOR POSTING IT

The position of this in the Book 3 timeline is ~nebulous~ but it’s sometime after the hero sees Warlic again for the first and before Warlic and Alexander started working together

trust in me (and I’ll trust you too)

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

Or: a hero and a mage have a conversation, trauma sucks, and actual age differences mean nothing in the face of Big Sister Instincts™

[AO3]

-

There is, for some yet-to-be-determined reason, an adventurer asleep on his couch.

Warlic pauses mid-step to contemplate this fact for a few moments, then realises that the cup of tea he forgot in the kitchen is going to keep going cold if he doesn’t return to hurrying to fetch it.

One severe disappointment in the form of a stone cold cup of tea and the necessary subsequent brewing of a replacement later, there continues to be an adventurer asleep on his couch. In full armour, no less. Even after all these years, he is no closer to understanding how that can possibly be comfortable, for all it never seems to bother her.

He sips his tea contemplatively, then clears his throat pointedly.

That prompts a stirring. Ro blinks up at him, looking for all the world like there is no reason at all to question her napping on his couch. She yawns widely, her jaw audibly popping, and stretches languidly in a very catlike way.

Then, in a movement that is all seal, she twists and flops sideways off of the couch.

“Hi, Warlic,” she greets from the floor, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hello, Ro,” he replies, taking another sip of his tea. “I assume that Cysero let you in?”

“Mmhmm.”

There is no elaboration on that. She seems perfectly content to simply lie on the floor and wait for him to say or do something else.

He drinks more of his tea.

She tilts her head slightly.

His sigh is fonder than he’d care to admit.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he says, arching his visible eyebrow “But are you here for a reason?”

She clicks her tongue and twists in a way that is probably supposed to help her get upright but more strongly resembles a seal in the banana pose than anything else.

“I needed a nap and your tower is always so nice and quiet,” she says, voice cheerful and dry.

In the distance, something – hopefully on Cysero’s side of the tower – explodes.

Ro giggle-snorts as she leverages herself upright using the arm of the couch she rolled off of.

“Aye, awright, point taken!” she calls in the general direction of the explosion.

“A social visit, then?” Warlic prompts, hiding his smile behind the rim of his teacup. “You usually give advance warning for those.”

“Ehhh,” Ro replies, making a wobbly see-saw motion with one hand, halfway sitting on the arm of the couch now “Social with a purpose?”

“Do tell.”

“Artix is wanting to dae a thing,” she says, twirling one hand in a circle as though to encompass the incredibly vague concept of ‘a thing’ “Away out at the keep? Hanging out and having a meal and stuff, ‘cept he doesnae know who’ll be up for it. I-” here, she makes an overly dramatic gesture to herself, the fingers of one hand splayed over her heart “-volunteered tae come see if you lot-” a wide sweeping gesture, clearly meant to encompass the tower and its inhabitants “-were free and when, seeing as I’m popping ‘round t’see Cysero aw the time anyways,”

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

“I mean…” Ro leans back, one arm braced against the back, one ankle loosely slung over the other, casual and so, so at ease “Less a party and more just dinner wi’ friends but aye, thereabouts.”

Are you mad?

The words stick in his throat. His stomach twists painfully. Just as he vaguely begins to hope that it isn’t showing outwardly, that he’ll be able to excuse himself quickly and without a fuss, his tea betrays him by sloshing loudly over the side of the cup.

Ro is by his side in an instant, one hand whisking the cup away from him and the other winding around his back to support him by the opposite elbow, gently but firmly steering him to the couch. He is vaguely aware of a quiet narrative litany – “Woah, ‘kay, c’mere, let’s just-” – accompanying these actions, then he blinks and is sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, knuckles white and chest tight. He blinks again, once, twice, staring down at his hands, then up to look at the adventurer sitting at his side. The way that she meets and holds eye contact with him for a few moments more than gives away the worry lurking underneath the calm on her face. His cup of tea is no longer in her hands. A quick glance reveals it to be set down on a coaster on a side table.

“So,” Ro says, pulling his attention back to her “That was a reaction.”

The noise he makes in response to that is somewhere between a snort and a gasp.

“Do you realise,” he asks, voice trembling despite his best efforts “how dangerous what you suggested is?”

She leans a bit closer and rests one of her hands over his clasped ones. The cool metal of her gauntlet is almost grounding.

“It’s not,” she says. Just like the way she guided him to sit, her voice is both gentle and firm. Kind but unyielding. It’s the voice she uses for Heroics.

“It is, how can you not-”

“Ah, of course, silly me,” she interrupts, voice now completely flat. “How could I not have foreseen the incredible danger inherent in you leaving this tower for a few hours to spend some time with your friends. You’re right, that’s an absolutely mental idea. Whatever was I thinking.”

His breath shudders. A distant part of him notes that she seems to have switched from the casual mix of Common and her native tongue she favours in the company of friends to the – as she puts it, with air quotes, rolled eyes, and disdain – “more proper” Greenguardian dialect of Common that she uses for everything from strangers to snotty nobles; the one she uses to ensure she’ll be understood, for better or for worse. She almost certainly doesn’t realise that she’s done it. That distant part of him aches.

He takes another hitching breath.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

She sighs and shifts to face him more fully, tucking one leg up underneath herself as she sits sideways, and moving her other hand so that both of hers are covering both of his. It helps stop the shaking, a little bit.

“You’re scared. I get it. You’ve told me it wasn’t safe for you to leave before and I believe you. But it’s been years now, Warlic, and if it’s safe for me to come here, why isn’t it safe for you to leave, just for a little bit?”

Because it’s different. Because he could lose control at any moment but maybe here it could be contained. Because it’s his fault, all of it, Alex and Jaania and the Rose and-

Because that monster was a part of him, is inside of him still, and what if I-

Because-

“-I’m dangerous.”

Ah.

Oops.

The look that she gives him somehow manages to be drier than the Sandsea and utterly sympathetic at the same time. He has a feeling that he knows what she’s going to say next, can practically already hear it – So am I. We’re all dangerous, it comes with the territory.

He can see it in her face, begins preparing his counterargument.

“You’re not a threat, Warlic.”

Crystallised disbelief is, apparently, a noise and his vocal cords are capable of making it.

“You’re not.” She squeezes his hands. “You’re in control. You’re not Wargoth-” He flinches at the name, the one he’s only heard in his own thoughts for some time now “-and you’re in control. You are exactly as dangerous as you choose to be and not a whit more and I think I know you well enough to say that that amount is minimal.”

“You didn’t see,” he replies, quietly, staring past her head to trace the grain of the wooden beams in the wall behind her with his eyes “What it was like in the early days. What I was like when I was only just recovering.”

It’s a statement, not an accusation. They both know she would have been there, given the remotest choice. They both know she couldn’t be there. They both know why and who is to blame for it.

She flinches anyways.

It’s the Wargoth in him, Warlic thinks, that makes him be so cruel to a friend who is only trying to help.

Ro breaths in, holds it for a few seconds, then breathes out. She flexes her fingers where they rest across his clasped hands. The motion draws his focus back from the wall just in time to see something in her eyes go firm.

“Right,” she says, with the air of a decision made. “Palms up, in your lap.”

Before he can respond to that non-sequitur, she has swiftly, methodically, somehow still gently, pried his interlocking fingers apart and arranged his hands so that they are resting in his lap, one arm to a leg, palms up. He twitches his fingers a little, wincing at the stiffness in his knuckles after clasping them so tightly for so long.

“Now, close your eyes.”

“Ro, I-”

“Wheesht and dae it, Warlic.”

He closes his eyes.

There are several long moments filled with the sound of rummaging and rustling. She grumbles under her breath a couple of times – at one point, he hears a distinct “why do I even have that?” – and then makes a distinctly satisfied rumble that would be much more suited to her seal vocal cords than her human ones.

A beat after that, something heavy and so very soft is settled into his arms.

“’kay, you can open your eyes now.”

He doesn’t want to. His heart is pounding so wildly he half wonders if it’s visible from the outside. A part of him is desperately hoping that she’s just handed him a blanket, some sentimental symbol of comfort she hopes to share, maybe even something with childhood importance. Something, anything, like that.

The rest of him knows better.

Definitely not a blanket.

The noise he makes isn’t so much a vocalisation of her name as it is a plaintive cry made of vaguely similar sounds. His eyes snap to her in panic and-

-she’s smiling. He can tell not just by the way the outer corners of her eyes have tilted up but by the way he can just barely see her teeth because her mask is pooled around her neck and she’s smiling and she looks absolutely, utterly at ease and-

-and her sealskin is in his hands.

“I trust you,” she says, as thought that isn’t a completely redundant thing to say, as though she hasn’t just made herself impossibly vulnerable, hasn’t just- “I trust you, Warlic. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? Trust my faith in you?”

The sealskin in his lap is thick and soft and warm. He’s bunched his hands in it, pulled his arms in a bit to hold it closer, without even realising he was doing so and he can’t quite convince himself to let go. He’s never seen it close enough to realise just how much the white-on-blue markings look like clouds before.

His heart pounds and his mind races. There are a million and one things that a mage of his strength and knowledge could do with a selkie’s coat and almost none of them are good. I trust you she says but how can she be anything but terrified in this moment, this moment where she has all but put herself into the worst horror stories of her people, how could she just hand this to him-

Wargoth enslaved people. He’d stolen them from themselves, reached in to grab the fire in their souls and twisted to chain them to his will, to turn them into puppets in his hands-

-and his friend has just unhesitatingly handed him the power to do it again. To do it to her.

“Warlic, hey, Warlic, look at me.”

Her hand is on his shoulder now and he turns to look, a million repetitions of the same question on his tongue – how can you…- and then she stands up.

She stands up and takes one step backwards.

A second.

A third.

She stops there, three paces away, smiling all the while.

“I trust you,” she repeats for the third time.

As his vision first blurs, then swims, Warlic finds himself thinking it’s a good thing that selkies live in the sea, it would be incredibly rude of me to give her coat water stains after a gesture like that. He takes one breath, then two, and then lets go.

Warlic bawls like a baby.

Ro returns to the couch, sitting close enough that their legs are pressed together, and starts rubbing circles on his back, between his shoulder blades.

It should feel ridiculous, with how much younger than him she is. He remembers when she had to look up just to look him in the face while he tried to convince her to take a nap, assuring her that the world wouldn’t end when she wasn’t looking if she took some time to rest. She’s grown a lot since then, he knows, but the number of years is such a drop in the ocean of those he’s lived that it feels like she must have barely aged at all. And yet, somehow, the rhythm of her comforting him as though he’s the child in the room doesn’t feel out of place at all. It just feels…

…safe.

Inevitably, he runs out of tears to cry. Ro wordlessly passes him a tissue to blow his nose, then another to wipe his eyes. He has no idea where she got them from, as there aren’t any nearby. He can’t remember the last time he cried like that. It feels… good, in a way, to have let it out.

When his breathing settles into a more sedate pace, Ro pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, Warlic,” she says, voice quiet “You know that I know what it’s like to be scared of yourself. I get it. Just… don’t go letting your fear control you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out “Yeah, okay.”

She shuffles aside a bit, giving him some space, but makes no movement to take her coat back. Not even an aborted grasp towards it, though he can see a line of tension beginning to form in her shoulders that she is clearly fighting.

…oh.

Oh. Of course. Trust. The whole point is trust.

He gathers her coat up in his arms, allowing himself just a moment to appreciate all that just being allowed to touch it would represent, let alone having the entire thing dropped in his lap, and passes it over to her.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes it from him, as though this is in any way a casual exchange. She slings it up and over her shoulders, settling it against her neck where the fur will rest against the few uncovered parts of her skin.

He nods, not entirely trusting his voice.

They sit in silence for a few moments and then she tilts her head to the side.

“So,” she says, drawing the vowel out, deliberately light-hearted, testing the waters “Artix’s thing?”

He thinks it over for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Considers all of his reasons for saying no; considers the possibilities for saying yes. Thinks about keeping himself locked away where it’s safe; thinks about spending time with people again.

He takes a deep breath in, feels his lungs expand. He thinks about a time when, despite everything, he had trusted himself. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? He breathes out.

He knows his answer.

“No,” he says, letting the syllable hang in the air for just a moment before turning to face Ro with a small smile “But tell him… maybe next time.”

[amovreuses]

          hey  besties  !!!  my  name  is  eve  (  geve  if  you’re  in  a  gmt  timezone  ),  i’m  twenty-five,  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns  and  i’m  currently  located  in  the  gmt  +  1  timezone  !  my  hobbies  include  watching  seven  hours  of  tiktok  a  day,  eating  anything  cheese-based  (  but  then  exclusively  drinking  oat  milk  )  and  threatening  to  post  my  own  unfollow  !  click  the  read  more  to  find  out  about  my  baby  ophelia,  go  react  with  a  love-related  emoji  in  the  plotting  calls  channel  and  i’ll  come  find  you  !  

𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲  !

full  name  :  ophelia  astrid  fredriksson nicknames  :  phe,  phelia gender  :  cisgender  woman pronouns  :  she  /  her date  of  birth  :  october  5th,  1999 big  three  :  libra  sun,  leo  moon  &  pisces  rising place  of  birth  :  new  york,  new  york abilities  :  amokinesis,  charmspeak,  control  over  jewelry  and  makeup,  permanent  makeup  and  shape-shifting

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  !

faceclaim  :  sarah  gustafsson height  :  5'7" hair  color  :  brown eye  color  :  hazel,  with  golden  flecks distinctive  marks  :  heart-shaped  birthmark  on  the  left  side  of  her  lower  stomach,  lucky  horseshoe  tattoo  on  her  right  forearm

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  !

enneagram  type  :  seven,  the  enthusiast moral  alignment  :  neutral  good temperament  type  :  sanguine kinsey  scale  :  two,  predominantly  heterosexual  but  occasionally  harbors  feelings  for  those  of  the  same  sex

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  !

ophelia  was  born  to  thomas  anders  fredriksson  and  aphrodite  after  the  two  met  in  italy  (  thomas  as  a  culinary  writer  and  journalist  on  a  writing  trip,  and  aphrodite  as  a  casual  greek  goddess  on  an  eat,  pray,  love  trip  )  but  was  raised  by  her  father  and  rosalie  beatrice  fredriksson,  the  woman  he  met  and  married  after  aphrodite’s  heart-breaking  departure

growing  up,  despite  faring  particularly  well  in  the  looks  department,  ophelia  never  felt  like  she  truly  fit  in  :  her  adhd  and  dyslexia  often  held  her  back,  she  overthought  the  departure  of  her  biological  mother  and  she  never  felt  particularly  aligned  with  her  classmates  life-wise

the  real  trouble  started  in  high  school,  when  ophelia  found  herself  regularly  sitting  outside  her  principal’s  office  after  yet  another  of  her  classmates  had  acted  bizarrely  after  a  simple  conversation  with  her  (  one’s  arm  ended  up  stuck  in  a  vending  machine  after  she  mentioned  she  desperately  wanted  a  soda,  one  girl  gave  ophelia  her  car  and  car  keys  when  ophelia  mentioned  not  wanting  to  take  public  transit  home  a  few  hours  before  a  blizzard  warning,  and  one  climbed  up  a  flagpole  to  try  to  get  the  school  flag  down  for  her  )

it  was  something  she  was  never  able  to  explain  and,  ultimately,  something  which  almost  scared  her  —  what  if  she  were  to  accidentally  hurt  someone  one  day  ?!

it  was  as  those  questions  started  to  haunt  and  hurt  her  more  and  more  than  her  mother  finally  claimed  her,  prompting  a  very  long  discussion  between  her,  her  father  and  her  adoptive  mother  (  who’d  known  for  years,  in  order  to  best  protect  ophelia  )

ophelia’s  since  been  a  regular  fixture  at  camp,  taking  online  college  classes  on  the  side  whenever  time  allows  her  to  (  she’s  a  communication  major  !  )

since  her  arrival,  she’s  notably  been  able  to  better  understand  what  happened  in  her  youth  and  how  to  properly  make  use  of  her  abilities  (  and  she’s  now  comfortable  enough  with  charmspeak  to  use  it  for  smaller  things,  like  asking  someone  to  refill  her  cup  at  breakfast  )

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬  !

though  she’s  a  daughter  of  aphrodite,  there  is  a  little  bit  of  hidden  mischief  in  her  personality  and  she’ll  sometimes  partake  in  camp  pranks  if  asked  (  and  if  she's  sure  no  one’ll  get  hurt  in  the  process  )

as  expected,  she  falls  in  lust  /  develops  crushes  very  easily,  but  it  takes  a  lot  for  her  to  truly  fall  deeply  in  love  and  develop  an  attachment  to  another  person  (  amongst  other  rocky  relationships,  aphrodite’s  departure  early  on  led  to  some  small  loved-related  scars  )

but  also  :  she  loves  any  and  all  cherry-flavored  candy,  she  can  play  the  ukulele,  she  and  her  parents  own  a  beagle  called  rune,  she’s  actually  decent  at  physical  activities  (  archery  is  where  she  truly  shines  though  )  and  she  has  a  playlist  ready  for  any  occasion  (  she’s  currently  making  one  for  when  you  get  a  text  that  tells  you  that  you  bark,  rip  )

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  !

the  camp  crush  :  ok  so  the  way  i  picture  it  is  that  they've  both  been  at  camp  a  while  (  and  maybe  he’s  even  the  one  who  got  her  through  her  fear  of  misusing  her  charmspeak  ability  if  we  really  want  to  be  cute  ),  v  much  friends  to  lovers  in  the  sense  that  they’re  already  physically  comfortable  around  each  other  and  share  secrets  and  things

the  platonic  other  half  :  the  cristina  to  her  meredith,  the  nick  to  her  schmidt,  the  abbi  to  her  ilana,  the  jake  to  her  charles  . . .  you  get  it,  they’re  joined  at  the  hip  and  pretty  much  menaces  when  they're  together

the  partner  in  crime  :  do  not  leave  these  two  unattended  unless  you  want  something  slightly  terrible  (  but  very  fun  )  to  happen  to  you,  your  eyebrows,  your  belongings,  your  meal  and  anything  else  you  hold  dear

the  annoyance  :  whether  it’s  just  because  their  godly  parents  stop  them  from  seeing  eye  to  eye,  because  they  insulted  her  aphrodite  pride  or  because  they  have  some  sort  of  history,  these  two  can  hardly  stand  to  be  around  one  another

that’s  all  i  can  think  of  off  the  top  of  my  head  (  i  started  a  wanted  tag  here  but  there’s  two  posts  in  it  so  it’s  kind  of  useless  right  now  )  but  i’m  more  than  happy  to  brainstorm  and  think  of  something  unique,  fun,  a  little  wild  and  with  a  lot  of  potential  for  fun  /  chaotic  /  emotional  threads  !!! 

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing 11-17 April 2021

Here’s this week’s roundup! April 11-17th!

Remember to give your content creators some love! Be sure to join in on the events at the bottom! And remember to send in any new works you see or make next week!

~Mod Hel

Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:

EmiAysu

Floors are Friends https://archiveofourown.org/works/3060526

Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei, Quatre Raberba Winner, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton

A simple raid goes drastically wrong.

lunesolei

Of Starting Pistols and Old Memories (Ch. 4) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30313110

Trowa Barton/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton & Heero Yuy, Mariemaia Khushrenada & Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton & Mariemaia Khushrenada, Mariemaia Khushrenada & Lady Une

Post-Endless Waltz, Recovery, Coming of Age, Background Slash, could be friendship too

Mariemaia hoists herself out. Her feet slip on the smooth floor and gooseflesh erupts on her arms and back. She climbs onto the block and wiggles her feet against the gritty texture. A couple deep breaths, back arched, legs bent, and toes dug in. Her eyes narrow as she moves her arms into position. “One-”

“Go.” His voice startles her and she does a half jump, landing in the water in an undignified mess. She resurfaces and he gestures for her to resume her position. “Lady Une says you’re on the swim team, you shouldn’t be scared to jump in. Go when I say go.”

“I go when I want to go,” she growls. She isn’t sure how she feels about Lady Une telling others about her activities. Especially him. She resumes position though.

“Not if you want to win.” Her shoulders stiffen. “Loosen up. Go.”

All Mariemaia wants is to be left alone while she practices her swimming and tries to survive the school year. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised that doesn’t happen - it’s not like the universe has been on her side in the past. Especially when it comes to meddlesome Gundam pilots.

katopiyo

Ice https://archiveofourown.org/works/30480678

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner

Canon Insert,Coping…?

Anything that happens, happens, Duo tells himself, but that doesn’t mean that he never gets upset.

Aphelion https://archiveofourown.org/works/30705581

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner

Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Early Relationship, Domestic Bullshit, Mindless Fluff, Bread is god is bread

“I don’t inhale cake-” Quatre protests, but gets hit in the nose with another chocolate chip. “Stop wasting food!”

Bluff https://archiveofourown.org/works/30724526

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner

Taking in the light of Earth’s glowing full moon, Quatre felt as though he could believe in anything.

He could use some of that faith right now.

@tziganecaffiends

They Stumble That Run Fast https://archiveofourown.org/works/30701066?view_adult=true

M/M, Chang Wufei/Treize Khushrenada

Chang Wufei, Treize Khushrenada, Duo Maxwell, Vingt Khushrenada

Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Business Trip, Sex Work, teen wolf cameos - Freeform, MHA cameos, Cameos, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Pretty Woman References, Waiting, Power Imbalance, Power Dynamics, power imbalance awareness, Tropes, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Team as Family, Dysfunctional Family, Wufei and Duo go into business, Post-Eve Wars (Gundam Wing), Angst with a Happy Ending, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed

His first knock was met by the door opening immediately. Five looked... well, honestly, Treize would have jumped that in a heartbeat, money or no money. He was shorter than Treize by a few inches, hair rumpled, pillow lines on his face. "He's definitely going to kill me," Five sighed, and moved to allow Treize to step into the room.

Treize waited until he closed the door, and then closed the space between them, setting hands curiously at Five's waist to see how immediately receptive he was. His pajamas matched, soft silk, worn a little and softened in a way that told him it wasn't an affectation. "He won't have to know. Hello."

Boundless as the Sea https://archiveofourown.org/works/30747161/chapters/75887108

M/M, Chang Wufei/Treize Khushrenada

Chang Wufei, Treize Khushrenada, Lady Une

Explicit, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Slavery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape, Past Abuse, Rape Aftermath, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Canon, Post-War, Post-Eve Wars (Gundam Wing), Survival, Frottage, Demisexuality, Ongoing trauma and assault, but it ends well, Tropes, Dermail makes a handy big bastard, Oz wins, Pegging

Rolling over hurt. Wufei gave a grunt of sound, body aching even as he forced his eyes open to a ceiling that he didn't recognize. It was white with no embellishments, no gold flake, nothing, and adrenaline hit his bloodstream, forcing him up more quickly than was good for him.

He didn't know where he was. The windows were tall and arched, the walls were a soft blue, and the floor looked to be wood, natural and well-waxed. A chair pulled up to the side of the bed, a pillow and a blanket piled into it, and he could distantly hear classical music.

Wufei wasn't in his room, and he wasn't in any room in the brothel. Wufei wasn't even sure as to precisely when he should start panicking, but the best answer seemed to be any second now.

weno

Perfect https://archiveofourown.org/works/30472821

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner

Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Violins, quat perfectn’t, Short One Shot

No violins were harmed in the making of this fic

Fanart/Crafts/Photo Manips:

@alphaikaros​

https://alphaikaros.tumblr.com/post/648127388883058688/month-of-quatre

Quatre Raberba Winner

@cloakandfire​

https://cloakandfire.tumblr.com/post/648310393547227136/college-au-in-which-zechs-and-noin-learn-anatomy

Zechs & Noin

@duointherain​

https://duointherain.tumblr.com/post/648670572325306368

Heero Yuy

@gwkimmy​

https://gwkimmy.tumblr.com/post/647883786946805760/blargh-im-late-colored-and-edited-a-manga-cap

Relena Darlian-Peacecraft

@keiko1183​

https://keiko1183.tumblr.com/post/647434916737548288/its-3x4-day-again

Trowa/Quatre

Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:

@cuteciboulette​

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/648271266529394688/look-ive-found-my-scan-the-cover-of-heero

Heero Neko

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/648361841609818112/heero-koneko-grow-up-well-p-link-to-dwl-behind

Heero-koneko

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/648543074355757056/doujinshika-25-ans-im-really-not-into-that

Noah (Duo & Quatre)

@meggie-stardust​

https://meggie-stardust.tumblr.com/post/648413786056851456/was-doing-gw-stuff-with-bettertasting-last-night

Relena’s friends

Calendar Events:

@gundamzine​

Rhythm Generation 2021

Contributor Applications are Closed! https://gundamzine.tumblr.com/post/647270927091007488/applications-are-officially-closed-thanks-to#notes

twitter link: https://twitter.com/gundamwingzine/status/1335010999401762816

Meet the Mods: https://gundamzine.tumblr.com/post/636708854145613824/come-on-over-a-meet-your-2021-zine-mod-team-head

Check out the blog for the Zine schedule!

@gundam-wing-pride

Gundam Wing Pride 2k21, 30 Days of Pride https://gundam-wing-pride.tumblr.com/post/648237909672083456/incoming-transmission-faq

@gwartserver

Month of Quatre https://gwartserver.tumblr.com/post/647282114067333120/month-of-quatre

@gwcocktailfriday

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompt for Friday, April 23rd! https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/648720472593268738/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-april

In need of Summer/Fall(Autumn) prompts!

@gwlemonyshenanigans

- May 1-31: Lemony Shenanigans will be posting works!

Spotlight Friday! https://gwlemonyshenanigans.tumblr.com/post/648674843443822592/spotlight-friday

@oztober-rust

Welcome to Oztober Rust

We’re an up and coming Gundam Wing event with a slight twist! This page is still a work in progress, but you’re welcome to join us over on discord and get a feel for the event.

@seasons-of-gundamwing

Summer Event Voting https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/646220556727877633/seasons-of-gundamwing-okay-wingers-its-time-to

@thisweekingundamevents

Events Calendar https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/644080386309275648/events-calendar-update

If you are hosting an event currently, or are planning on one, hit us up with links and dates! We’ll add them to the Calendar and reblog your notices to get the word out!

[falselyprofound]

So... 2020, huh?

Saying it was rough is an understatement. But also, it’s December 31st, there’s three hours left in the year, and I am far too tired to find the words that carry the proper amount of weight to describe... whatever all that was.

That said, I’m going to try my hardest not to write it off. It was a difficult year, but as with any NYE, taking a step back to think about the things I did accomplish helps keep me sane. Makes me think I’m still moving forward.

So, without further ado...

The World is Weird got nominated for an AGS award! I stayed up until about five am watching the awards ceremony, timezones and Australian wifi be damned. Good times, good times.

Made myself a website! It’s still a little bare-bones but it shows off some of my art and game projects.

Made an OC ask blog! Given how this year went, I very much did not have the mental headspace for writing out any of the comics I’ve been planning. But it is genuinely so nice to have a place to post small tidbits here and there. (Big thanks to everyone who’s sent in asks! I have a few more answers in the works, but feel free to send in more stuff if u feel so inclined)

Finished storyboarding the first act of Buy-r-Die. While that doesn’t sound all that impressive, the game’s had several drastic presentation overhauls this year. I’ve finally settled on something I like - sort of a mix between visual novel and motion comic - and personally I think it adds a lot to the more action-y scenes! I can’t show too much off just yet, but I’m really excited with how things are progressing. In the meantime, the dev log is up on the AGS forums.

Illustrated, wrote, and programmed like half a visual novel for Art Fight. I’ve been chipping away at it in my own time since the fight ended, and while I’ve still got quite a bit of work to do on Spice’s side I’d say it’s coming along p well. Most of the post-fight adjustments aren’t up on GameJolt yet, but you can play the original prototype and read the devlog over here.

Speaking of Art Fight, I earned 1443.62 points this year! That’s about triple the amount of art I did over the past few fights combined. Not bad, considering I had to take two weeks off for an elective.

I also drew some much-needed reference sheets for (most of) my main OCs. One day I’ll update Clarissa’s art. One day.

Played a lot of D&D. Like... a lot. Not all of it turned out to be good, and sadly a lot of games died out due to COVID and/or uni scheduling. But Mel finally escaped her vacation from hell, Sloane finally made it to the town of Barovia, Maya avoided starting an international incident, and I finally managed to drop some Lavinia lore that i’ve been sitting on for four years. Delicious drama.

Finally had a chance to run Monster of the Week! My first attempt was... not all that great, mostly because I was trying to write a scenario from scratch without really understanding the rules. But I’ve now moved on to Damn Dirty Apes, and am having an absolute blast.

Small town superhero OC RPs. You wouldn’t know it from reading this blog but I got, like, really into those this year. Think I wrote something around 40 A4-pages worth of fic for one server, and that’s not counting the actual threads I did with other people. Now I just need to channel that kind of productivity into my solo work...

Lots of digital painting work this year, mostly for personal projects. I like to think my grasp of colour and lighting is getting better, though I still have a long way to go. Regardless, here’s some of it.

Kept on top of my university work, with a distinction average. Barring unforseen bullshit, I should be done with my Masters’ Degree within the next six months!

Did not keep on top of MMB, unfortunately. There was just... too much to do, with too little personal energy to do it with. That said, I’ve started sketching out ideas for a relatively light mini-game. Fingers crossed that’ll surface relatively early into 2021.

It is a little frustrating to see that this is yet another year of half-finished projects, but I’m trying not to be too hard on myself. The mental strain of lockdown, juggling several bouts of drama at once, and uni study all at once is... a lot. And while I’m upset I never completed anything -- jesus christ, it’s a miracle I managed to even start things when my brain was already this full.

Felt like I spent most of this year fighting metaphorical fires... and I don’t know if that’s going to stop any time soon. But anyway.

All that aside, I feel as though my game development workflow is really improving. My code isn’t industry standard, but it’s significantly cleaner, easier, and faster to work with than ever. I’ve gotten some slight animation practice under my belt. And I’ve also dealt with the terrifying world of optimization.

(My games have option menus now! Incredible!)

What’s more, I’m getting better at achieving personal goals without any external pressures or hard deadlines -- which is comforting, as the latest spike in COVID cases has got me worried that I might not be able to get an offline job any time soon. I might need to look into Patreon, advertising my commissions more, or otherwise monetizing smaller projects of mine... we’ll see.

For now, I’m going to go play Animal Crossing and eat chocolate.

‘Cause there’s no fireworks out tonight and I have nowhere to be.

[painandpleasure86]

Friends will be Friends - Fic Series “Deaky’s Diary” Chapter #2

Author’s note: Hi! January 26th I had a fic inspo with the same John from the fic I can’t live with you (but I can’t live without you) because of some words from Bri when some Japanese fans gave to Roger and him some gifts, and there haves one for John. This is mere imagination, but this is my realistic imagine about the reaction of John knowing that he will receive a present from his old bandmate...

Indeed this will be the second fic of a new series, “Deaky’s Diary”, where I’ll write the reaction that I imagine that John would have about certain sucesses around his life. I’ll actualize this when I think that’s necessary!

The reaction of him with the panic attack was inspired in the one described in one chapter of My life has been saved by @deakysgurl​

Perhaps my John it’s very smoker, but i’m inspiring in myself and my addiction to mate (a southamerican kind of tea, but with the effects of coffee).

Oh! This fic series will have a tag dedicated. Will be #deakysdiary. Follow it to know new chapters and related stuff!

Summary: The following week of his wedding anniversary he receive a couple of surprises that will touch his deepest feelings... and that made him take a decision.

Warning: slightly angst, mention of panic attack, some swearing, some friend-fluff (?)

Word count: +1.5k

Permanent taglist: @warriorteam1924​ (if you want to be in that list, send me a msg or ask)

“And there’s Deaky, we’ll have to make sure he gets that”

------

January 25th, 2020

After a week from his anniversary, this Saturday it’s quite normal. Waking up early, drink his necessary tea, smoked some cigarettes, took his medicines. Recharging his emotional batteries to hang on another day.

Knowing that his old bandmates were on tour with that kid named Adam made him felt some melancholy. Watching at the window, contemplating the horizon, remembering good times. Remembering the love that Japanese fans gave to him since his first visit in mid 70s. Remembering being in that TV program with Roger in 1984, where he entered with a gorilla head over his one and saying “number eight, hachi ” when he was asked to choose the prettiest guy between seven guys. Remembering knowing that Music Life dedicated an entire mag with his material in Japan in 2019.  He miss Japan a lot.

“Teo Torriate konomama iko, aisuruhito yo” he sung in a murmur, smiling like an idiot. Even crying. “Aisuruhito yo Japan… I couldn’t thank you enough for your love…” he continued, wiping away some tears, trying to smoke properly. That was his fourth cigarette in just a couple of hours. 

Still remembering good times, noticed that he had just one cigarette remaining in the packet. “Shit. I must to go to the kiosko to buy some cig. And with that, the annoying people trying to get an autograph or pic from me…”. Started to be pretty nervous just for thinking that, he started to breath more quickly. He rested his back in some kitchen mobiliary, his head was reclined, his left hand in his chest, his right hand with the cigarette. He was trying to calm him down, remembering the advice of his therapist. After a couple of minutes, he felt better. And called to his wife.

“RONNIEEEEEEEEEEE!”

She came to the kitchen quickly.

“What’s you need, hun?” she asked kindly.

He hates to be called “hun”, so he watched at her annoyed.

“Ugh John, for god’s sake!” she exclaimed, sighing. “Well, what’s you need? Oh, indeed, morning!” she greeted him with a kiss in his right cheek.

“Morning, lady”. He couldn’t resist to smile a little. “I need that you buy me some cigarette packets, y’know which ones” he said giving to her the money. Sighing, he added “I don’t want to deal with that people” watching directly to her eyes.

“Of course h- ehmmm John” she chuckled a little. “I’ll come back soon, don’t miss me!” she added going to the main door of the house. “And if some people asks for you, I’ll say that you’re sleeping!”

Smoking his last cigarette, he thought “well I’ll check the internet for some news, were some days without connecting”.

-------------------

He goes to his studio and turned on the PC. Expecting what’s up in the fandom. 

But he didn’t expected that. Saw the Bri’s posts and the screenshots of Roger’s instastories from the Queen exhibition, where they were remembering him. And he cried. “I miss you bunch of goofballs, I still love you… I’ll always thank you for understand me… and i should be there with you. Having fun. But without Freddie isn't the same. Sorry…”

Meanwhile he was wiping the tears of his eyes, Ronnie knocks softly the door.

“Come in!” exclaimed him.

She opened the door. After that she approximated to him.

“Well John, I bought like 4 packets of Marlboro Slim, were the 20 on-… What’s wrong dear?” she asked seeing the red eyes of her husband.

He responded “just remembering good old times with the guys, and they also were remembering me in social media. I-” blewed his nose with a tissue. “I need the cigarettes! Thank you hun, bye” he said quickly quitting the packets from the hands of his wife, while she was watching surprised. After that, she left the studio thinking “Christ, sometimes this man it’s so strange...”

Leaving three of the four packets over his desk,  opened the remaining quickly and smoked one cigarette. Reclining in his chair, exhalated the smoke , remembering when Roger stolen his cigarettes. “Haha, I miss you Meddows” said smiling.

-----------------------

January 26th, 2020

That morning he woke up thinking in the guys, “perhaps I could send a message to them, I miss to talk with them so bad… No. Better not. I’ll stay silent and just reading their mails as an approval.” he though meanwhile he was getting up of his bed. 

Make his ritual. Tea, pills, cig. He was daydreaming while he was smoking at the level that he forgot the boiling water.... But at least didn’t happened a disaster.

After that, he made the tea. Still thinking in send some message to the guys. Still refusing to do that. “They surely will want to meet me and I don’t know… they? To my house? Everyone will know.” he was thinking, sitting in a chair of the kitchen’s table.

Meanwhile he was quietly drinking his tea, the phone rang.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Leaving the cup of tea in the kitchen’s table, he answered the call.

“Hello.”

A soft voice sound from the another side of the phone.

“Hi Deacy!”

John was surprised.

“BRIAN?! Why you’re calling me? I think that I told to you and Roger that you can only calls me in very extreme emergencies”, responded kinda angrily.

“I wanted to know how you are… we didn’t speak properly since a lot of time…we’re in Japan on tour…” responded the astrophysicist.

“Yeah Bri, I knew it…” he couldn’t resist to smile. “Thank you for remembering me lately…”

“Not only Roger and me, also Spike miss you… tonight in the soundcheck we had a technical problem and he said “surely if John would be here, that problem wouldn’t happened”

John can’t respond, smile and some tears want to be free. 

Sniffing, trying to sound serious, asked “Just for that Bri?” He was starting to starve for his cigarettes. But that where in the table, next to the cup of tea.

“No… Emmm you didn’t checked the internet already?”

“Eh… no. And last night I wasn’t online. Ronnie insisted that since last Saturday night, every saturday night it's time for cheesy movies” sighed rolling his eyes. 

Brian laughed a little. “Similar thing with Anita happens to me too… Husband thing.” Coming back to the convo, he added “well you don’t know, but Japanese fans gave to us something to you… you will have it soon”

Deaky was surprised.

“What’s that?”

Bri smiled again.

“Check the internet Deacy, or wait some weeks”.

John couldn’t hold the tears more time. He starts to cry. He haves a response for all his own questions that he made before that morning. He made a choice.

“Erm… Thank you…  for... calling me Brian!”

Brian was surprised for the mood change.

“I don’t understand you man, a few minutes ago you were complaining about this call!”

“But… I… I miss you! I also miss Roger.... and Spike… Please tell to them that I miss them and I love them so much. I... I love you too mate!”

“Please repeat that words again… they’re listening to you”.

Roger and Spike were listening all the calling but Brian didn’t told that to John to surprise him. 

John couldn’t reply properly. They could listen to the 68 years old man crying. After a moment, he could do it. “I miss you guys, I hope that you’re fine!”, were his words.

Roger replied “It’s mutual bud. We should meet!”

Spike added “We can made a BBQ… oh, shit Bri it’s vegan! Well, we’ll do some grilled vegetables to him, haha!” laughed the keyboardist.

Being emotional, John said “yeah! Call me soon to schedule that meeting! Will be in my home if you want”

The three screamed “yeaaaah!”

“Your wives are also invited!” added John.

“See ya soon man!” they said.  Brian turned off the speaker. “Very soon” whispered Brian. “Bye Deacy, have a nice day”, he added.

“Good… Night?” asked confused John because of the timezones.

“Yeah, here’s night. Well… early morning.”

“This is the Bri that I know” thought John meanwhile, smiling. “Good early morning then, haha” told him.

They hung up. And after a couple a minutes he realized that they will come back to his home. And that his tea was cold. “Stupid Bri and his calling” he exclaimed, meanwhile he was bringing the cup of tea to the microwave. 

Ronnie entered to the kitchen and listened that words from her husband.

“Brian… CALLED?!” she asked surprised.

That ask almost makes that his cup of tea falls to the floor.

“God, Ronnie, I had already enough surprises!” He put the cup of tea in the microwave to warm his beverage a little. “And morning”.

In the next weeks, the couple will receive in their big mansion some old friends and the new couples of their friends. They have a lot of things to speak. A lot of time to recover. A lot of hugs and laughs to give and receive. Remember a bit why they were friends. And that they will be friends, right till the end.

-----

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!! This is the way to make more visible my work. New chapters will come when I consider neccessary!

-Lily

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (back) to the Order of the Phoenix, Gina!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character AMOS DIGGORY with the faceclaim of Sam Claflin! We were intrigued by the plot possibilities you bring to the game through both Amos’ job and his motivations, and all the trouble that his best intentions might well cause for the Order he hopes to help! We also liked how you didn’t let the Diggorys’ wholesome depiction from the books get in the way of showing the darker nuances of Amos’ outlook on the magical world. We’re so happy to have you back with us!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Gina

AGE: 25

TIMEZONE: MST-Arizona (or GMT-7)

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Hello! I’m glad to be applying again! Things have called down at work for the most part – especially being at home. Like before, weekends are usually best for me to catch up on everything. I’ll try to get on during the week – especially on my early days. All that being said, I’ll definitely will be able to post at least once a week! As long as writing is still fun, and doesn’t feel like a chore, I’ll be on the dash frequently (and I’ll let you know immediately about any changes)!

ANYTHING ELSE: trigger: non-con.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Amos Diggory

AGE: 27

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-Male, He/Him, Bisexual

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff

ANY CHANGES: N/A

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Amos is a very friendly and jovial fellow. A gentleman to the core, he upholds all that the Diggorys instilled in him as a child. Well-mannered, he is a Brit – fond of food, drink, music, a full pipe, his friends and good cheer, and often greets any and all strangers from both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Able to charm many, Amos likes to flirt (not matter how cheesy it may come off). With the traveling for his work and care for creatures, Amos loves adventures and wandering.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

An only child can go in a few directions. Luckily, Amos took the amicable path – making his friends and schoolmates his family. His loyalty and devotion to them all is a strong bond that should not be taken lightly. While his parents passed away at a young age, Amos does not let their teachings go to waste. Above all else, Amos believes in family firmly – of all kinds. For him, family is what you build and make your own; water is not thinner than blood – pure or not.

OCCUPATION:

Employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Fresh out of school, Amos wanted to travel all across Europe to find the different magical beasts and beings he would be protecting. Therefore, he has been sifting through many of the sub-divisions of the Beast Division. Recently, he went on a trip to the Americas – particularly to see and gather more information about the behavior of various creatures since he’s seen some strange patterns in Europe. There, he used the study of the great beasts known as Thunderbirds in the wilds of Arizona as a cover. However, once word from Arthur Weasley came about a war in the Wizarding World, Amos quickly made his way back to London. Now, he is transferring to a higher position within the Werewolf Support Services in the Being Division. His goal is to become the Head of the entire department to make a good life for his family and provide when he decides to settle down.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Now back home, Amos is making his rounds to old friends and networking. Many of them have joined the Order – or family members within it. Having no siblings himself, he cares deeply for his old schoolmates and those fighting for justice. He will help in any way he can, but, behind the curtain. His heart is big and gives to many, but he also has a name to uphold and a reputation that he built himself. Amos cannot just go blindly into battle. Besides all of that, he does want to build a life with someone after the war, giving hope to others.

SURVIVAL:

Amos Diggory relies, not only on his magical skills, but also his intellect, and charm. As a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Amos Diggory has a high level of knowledge regarding Magizoology. He knows how to classify many different beasts and beings, and the various laws regulating the ownership of such creatures – such as Ban on Experimental Breeding. In other words, work for their agenda without retaliation.

As for charms, Amos can produce a non-corporeal patronus charm as well as many other incantations (like the eradication spell) that make others consider him an accomplished wizard. In short, he survives because of his unique skills he offers the Ministry and not being outspoken about his opinions. While he disputes blood supremacy, he must keep his head down. For his career and future family. While with the Order, Amos hopes to become an ally within the Ministry for them. He realizes how important their work is and to have friends woven into the system.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Amos has a rather brotherly friendship with Arthur Weasley’s siblings (whom he would later become further acquainted with at the Ministry for work). Being schoolmates, the pair of gingers and Amos had fun roaming the halls and getting themselves into playful trouble. Even after Hogwarts, they continued to visit and write each other often. He then grew a friendship with Arthur with their work – then becoming familiar with Molly and (of course) the Prewett twins. In fact, Amos is rather fond of them – admiring their skills greatly. He would like to think he has a cordial relationship with them, considering he’d do anything for both of the Weasley and Prewett families. Perhaps he even has a well-hidden crush on one of the twins – or both.

As for anything romantic, Amos did have a fair crush on Andromeda Black, but knew she was bound to marry an older and successful Pureblood male, so never made it known to anyone but Arthur. Imagine Amos’ surprise when he heard about Ted! For years, he has been travelling all across Europe, and even visited many parts of the world. With that, Amos had shared a few beds (of both men and women) to ‘get it out of his system’ before his Pureblood family expects him to marry a proper Pureblood woman.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

Ships: Amos/Chemistry Anti-Ships: None

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Being a Pureblood and a male, Amos had had few disadvantages in life and is well aware of it. He denounces blood supremacy – believing wholly that family is what you make it and anyone is worthy to study magic.   He supports all students with non-magic parents to study at Hogwarts.

Working with beasts and beings, Amos wants a better world for the creatures that cannot voice for themselves. It is the non-humans and beings he has a bias towards. Those with human qualities, a voice, and can fend for themselves. Particularly, this is because of an old grudge he holds against the house-elf Tilly that abandoned him after his parent passed away at a young age.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? Plotting & writing again – and with the tremendous writers in this RP!

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

No wife / family / Cedric yet. Amos is definitely looking to settle down though. Being from a Pureblood family, he will look at the aristocratic women in that society. For instance, a woman like Emma – although a bit older. Or the beloved Andromeda.

Something between Remus and Amos since he’s now in the department of Werewolf Support Services & something about looking at the creatures being recruited for the Death Eaters. Working with so many beasts and beings that have seen such cruelty in the world, Amos merely wants to help make it brighter for them; give them a future.

ANYTHING ELSE? Super excited to be RE-applying! 😊

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

PAST: (trigger: death)

Honor. Dignity. Pride. A dictum of all the facets that embodied the Diggory family. Their beliefs were traditional, being a Pureblood house. Born on September 22nd, Amos Rigel Diggory grew up in a home his father constructed himself in Devon, England. With Amos as their only child, Domhnall Diggory and Isabella Tabor raised Amos with these ideals of family and devotion. Their goal was to make him a proper Pureblood aristocrat – who could manipulate any situation into his favor and even charm others as well. All to uphold the family name and blend in with the other Pureblood families – with a mask of a ‘proper gent’ in  society.

Growing up in Devon, a young Amos met the Weasley brothers. Not only this, but the fertile and hills of the Shire land was also the home to the Lovegood and Fawcett families. With that, Amos quickly found his “siblings” with the family members of his neighbors. Going to school with many of them made their little adventures within the fallen Tudor towers, riverbanks, and grasslands all the better! The youthful Diggory was curious and eager for news of the outside worlds – Magical and Muggle alike. He grew fond of the various little creatures like the bowtruckles and erklings near his home. Although, his mother’s emphasis on being a ‘Pureblood Gentleman’ took his innocence away slightly. Amos was quickly carted off into playing an instrument, studying etiquette, having a fit physique, disciplining of the mind, meeting with other Pureblood families frequently, parties, seeing sports as a luxury, and (of course) good marks in school. Meanwhile, his father put an emphasis on politics – often taking him to the office, showing him card games (along with betting fellow Ministry employees and even kissing arse at times), a prejudice against non-humans (categorized as ‘beings’ in the Ministry – which are much different from beasts, of course), and an understanding of the dark arts. Amos was to be ‘the perfect Purebood prospect’ for their family.

And that he was.

Even if he incorporated his own agenda into it.

In school, raised to be the charmer that he was, Amos shined as a ‘fun and sociable’ young man. While also loyal and determined to excel in magic, Amos was sorted into the Hufflepuff house – to his absolute delight. Immediately taken to Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Amos wormed his way as many of the faculty’s favorite. Even if he had skipped assignments, which he would never do (from pride alone), all he had to do was flash a smile and was in the clear. Although, his favorite subjects were Care of Magical Creatures – from pure nostalgia alone – and Transfiguration. With many friends and favor of the professors, Amos had a bit of an ego. His weaknesses were a lack of humility, insecurities, and a temper that could easily get him in trouble with other classmates.

Amos’ anger surged even more after the death of his parents. First his father from an illness, and then his mother from heartbreak. It made Amos much more somber and dedicated to his schoolwork. Especially when their house-elf Tilly left him on his own. He supposed the betrayal to the family was because Amos disregarded him completely when he was home – if he was ever there. Without any aunts or uncles to turn to for help, Amos became consumed in working new jobs in London, seeing the Underground world. There, he made himself good friends with the innkeeper Tom of The Leaky Cauldron. More often than not, when Amos was not in school, he stayed there. Unfortunately, some of his friends drifted away from him and he grew to appreciate times alone, or with only a friend or so. After getting outstanding scores on his N.E.W.T.S, a Pureblood wizard, that had been friends with his father, offered him a few positions within the Ministry. With new opportunities thrust upon him, Amos felt a bit overwhelmed. He took the proper amount of time to himself, ignoring his friends even more as weeks passed by while he tried to resolve the issue himself. However, there was one thing he was certain: the occupation could not be his entire life. He did not want any future family solely revolving around his own career, his own selfish desires. If his parents taught him anything, it was that family had to be put first. Family above all else – then friends and, finally, work.

In the end, working in the Ministry seemed the most promising. With the options laid out before him, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures seemed the most logical. He could use his skills of Magizoology, that were his top marks at Hogwarts – and rise in the ranks quickly. Not to mention that it was challenging! And Amos loves a good challenge. The work piqued his interests greatly. It was a way to use his skills, travel, and keep a stable (while sometimes dangerous) occupation. His professors were ecstatic and helped him prepare for what he would need and the up-and-coming interviews. Finally, Amos had a dream and lust for adventure.

PRESENT:

Amos has returned to England – taking up residency in his parents’ old home in Devon. However, sometimes with late nights with work, he rents out his old room in the Leaky Cauldron. Before coming back, however, he had traveled all over Europe. The job needed someone with his knowledge of creatures, and dare he say, his Pureblood bias towards non-humans as well to properly carry out the Ministry’s work. And over the years, he noticed more and more strange behavior. To see if some of the beasts in other parts of the world were acting similarly, Amos decided to get a grant from the Ministry to study out of Europe. For about eighteen months, the Beasts Division allowed him to do some of his scholarly work in the Americas. At the time, because of Muggle-wars, the non-magical world was seeing huge economic reforms and impacting how much the Wizarding world could interact and be out in the open. In short, they let him go to America because it was the only place they could afford to. Their homeland was becoming more and more integrated with Muggle turmoil. Once in the United States, Amos stayed in the wilds of Arizona. There, he used studying Thunderbirds as a cover while watching other magical creatures. Now home, he revels in the stories he holds close to his heart (somewhat even bragging to the wrong ears). All the while, their own war rages on.

Wanting a higher position, Amos has looked into the Being Division within the Ministry. Normally, because of his prejudice against non-humans, Amos would have refused. Especially since house-elves are categorized as beings. However, he has been promised a well-respected role in the Werewolf Support Services for a year. All he has to do is keep his head down and do the tasks at hand. Perhaps here, he can get more answers than his travels did. And while a few of his childhood friends continue to aid the Order, Amos cannot help but wonder in ways he can work behind the curtain. For his own peace of mind, and the devotion to those from his youth (a Hufflepuff through and through – and loyal to a fault). As such, he has given himself the task to find the creatures being recruited for the Dark Lord – and which are still unsure of what side to take. Perhaps, he can even use his charms to convince them. However, no matter what, he cannot do more than gather information…quietly. He cannot jeopardize his career or the Diggory name.

FC CHOICES: Sam Claflin, Garrett Hedlund, or Max Irons

[averygim]

hello all. you can call me cal or jeepers, which is my discord name and i think is funny tbh, but i mostly go by cal. my pronouns are they/them and ‘m in the est timezone. i’m a bit late to the game but i’m still v excited to introduce my child avery to ya’ll. below is a whole mass of text that’ll help you get to know this mess of a child. uwu it’s easiest to reach me on discord at jeepers creepers #5103, but i also try and respond as quick as i can to tumblr ims so it’s really whatever you prefer !!

basics

name: avery gim job: baker at peau d’amour age: twenty-five gender: cismale pronouns: he/him sexuality: grey-asexual / panromantic birthday: february 6th zodiac: aquarius personality type:  advocate | infj pinterest board: HERE

aesthetic

the haunting sound of a piano in a memory you can’t quite reach

a warm summer night spent watching fireflies dance among the trees

a bite of a fresh peach that leaves your mouth sticky and sweet

theme song: the 7th sense by nct u

hatred that will not go away and dreams that torture me the clock laughs at me, it does not give a single error i’m a mess, I don’t even know myself, my future is colored darkly i’m struggling, coloring this night even blacker in the irregularity that’s hard to understand there’s a story that’s deeply hidden eyes are being opened through this song your dreams are being read it’s being awakened from a deep sleep my seventh sense

positive & negative

affable ( adj ) : friendly, good-natured, or easy to talk to.

languid ( adj ) : (of a person, manner, or gesture) displaying or having a disinclination for physical exertion or effort; slow and relaxed.

versatile ( adj ) : able to adapt or be adapted to many different functions or activities.

candid ( adj ) :  truthful and straightforward; frank.

then

it begins when he’s four years old - this obsession in him. his parents couldn’t have expected that sending their son to piano lessons we enact such a wild passion in their small, quiet boy. it was hard to pick out at first. often, they would pick their child up from his lesson to find his small chubby cheeks stained with tears. his parents assumed he was simply being stubborn about learning the instrument. they would see the kids dragged to the lessons bemoaning their distaste to it to their parents and would tell each other “our boy is simply quiet with his dislike for it. he has never been a talker.” and  would keep taking him week after week. the piano teacher couldn’t enlighten them to what was going through their child’s mind in terms of why he seemed to work himself up into such a state. she explained to them that he seemed attentive whenever she would teach him and it was only until he started to practice on his own that the tears would begin. neither parties could get a word out of the child though he often seemed to calm fairly quickly post lesson, spending the car ride home pressing his small fingers into his thighs as though there was an invisible piano etched into his skin. at one point, his parents seemed to give in a bit to their uncertainty of how their child was doing, offering to take him out of the lessons. the aggressive shake of the four years old’s head and high squeaky voice insisting “ no, no !! “ was quite the surprise. it wasn’t until a year later, when he began to find his voice that he admitted to his piano teacher that he just loved piano so much, he couldn’t stop himself from crying whenever he got to play. the teacher passed this along to the parents with much amusement and relief.

the passion the young boy had for the instrument didn’t falter over the years, even as his peers turned to other extracurriculars and sports rather than the piano. his parents opted to get him a keyboard to set up in his room on his seventh birthday, still wary about how long he would remain content with the lessons. they had never enjoyed the instrument with such conviction when they were forced to take lessons growing up. it was, at least, comforting to know that their quiet child still enjoyed spending time doing kid things, such as playing outside, playing pretend and colouring. he even showed an interest in baking, which he often did with his grandmother, much to the disbelief of his father. still, he was a good child and despite the wariness his father had of allowing him to indulge in his more feminine hobbies ( he was very much stuck in the throws of toxic masculinity ), his mother and grandparents supported him fully in whatever he wanted to do. so during the week, he would go to his piano lessons and play with the neighbourhood kids outside. then, on the weekends, he would spend time with his mother’s parents, often baking some sort of treat with his grandmother and listening to his grandfather tell tall tales of his own childhood.

as he got older, his skill in piano progressed more and more. between his lessons and the studious way he practiced, he ended up participating in a variation of different concerts. by the time he reached his early teens, he was playing with the adult orchestra with nine years of lessons and experience under his belt. it was an astounding thing- to hear him play. it was as if this lazy, beautiful human was gifted with talent from the gods, but he wasn’t. he worked for his ability. countless hours pressing fingers into plastic keys. perhaps that is why, for his sixteenth birthday, his grandparents and parents pulled together the money to buy him a grand piano. it was then, upon walking into the home to find the piano gracing the room that used to be the den of their house, that he discovered he hadn’t quite outgrown his habit of crying when overwhelmed with emotion.

between creating compositions, practicing, baking with his grandma, and the hell that was high school, he didn’t have much time for anything else. he didn’t mind. he was content with his work, both with the piano and at school. he had a tendency to overwork himself within the confines of his piano room and bedroom between the two. this led to him developing a bad reputation of being a lazy and privileged individual who got away with sleeping in class. his peers saw him as someone favoured by teachers, when in truth it was simply because he’d had multiple discussions previously with them about being awake in class. many of them had agreed to let it slide so long as his grades were maintained. it was a necessary thing to seek as if his parents found out they would no doubt put restrictions on how he was working. 

despite the peer isolation, which later led to a fair amount of social awkwardness on his part, he seemed to get along great with those he went up against in competitions. perhaps it was their shared love or enjoyment of the instrument. regardless, he created a group of friends outside of the school scene and, despite many of them being older than him, he was respected and treated much better than others his age treated him. 

the summer post high school graduation saw him doing something no one could have predicted ( aside from his grandfather who swears up and down that he saw this coming since he was seven years old ). he set out on a tour of major cities, performing alone on a stage with simply a piano, a mask, and a single spotlight. see, in the latter years of his teens, he really blew up thanks to the internet. he became known under a moniker the he’d used on his youtube channel, which he would post videos of his personal compositions and covers of songs on. it led to some artists and producers reaching out collaborate, which, in turn, increased his popularity.

( car accident tw ) life was good for five years. he got to do what he loved and loved what he did. of course, all good things must come to an end, even if that good thing felt like it is your entire life. at twenty three, the now grown quiet boy got into a car accident. a drunk driver hit the car his mother was driving with him in the passenger seat. his mother survived with a few bruised ribs and a broken arm while he came out of it with severe head trauma. head trauma that, out of all things, resulted in hearing loss. the cochlea and hearing nerves in his inner ears were damaged to the point that it sounded like a hush fell over the world. it was a difficult reality to swallow. 

( depression tw ) it was a loss like no other. he could no longer hear his piano. he could no longer get lost in the world his music created. depression hit him heavy and hard, dragging him under in a suffocating hold. seventeen years. he’d been playing piano for seventeen years and now that ability was severely disabled. he withdrew, cutting ties with almost all of his friends who were apart of the music world. his parents didn’t know what to do with their quiet child who seemed to become deathly silent after the accident. the whole family had signed up in solidarity to learn asl alongside him. the only ones who seemed to muster out any sort of reactions or responses from him were his grandparents who struggled to learn the new way of communicating. he tried hearing aids in addition, however, the damaged required a more intensive solution. cochlear implants. he refused despite the struggle he still faced with the hearing aids. his family tried to get him to go through with the surgery, however he was an adult and it was his decision to make. so he continued to allow himself to waste away in the distorted world around him. his father responded to his state with anger, while his mother grieved and worried over him from afar. his grandparents were around as much as they could be, reaching out with patient hands. it would take two years for him to reach back.

twenty-four and feeling stuck, exhausted, and just down right sick, the quiet boy finally inched out of the shell the accident had left him in. it starts with therapy, then medication, and ends with stepping into the kitchen with his grandmother again. his piano remained untouched, gathering dust in his home behind a locked door. no one brought it up, not yet, and instead slow steps were eventually taken. he spoke for the first time post asl and hearing aids to his mother. his voice raspy and barely there from disuse. he couldn’t hear himself, but his mother had burst into tears as his grandparents smiled at each other with watery eyes. it was progress. slow progress, but they were glad that he was finally taking steps forward. 

it was five months after his twenty-fourth birthday that he decided to undergo the cochlear implant surgery. he held no hope for what he’d be able to do with the upgrade. he didn’t allow himself to think of the abandoned piano or the possibility of getting back into music. no, instead, he simply kept his eyes forward as though the past no longer existed. instead, he spent his time baking with his grandmother, helping with the small business she’d started when he was in middle school. the surgery was a success, but the quiet man did not cry when he was finally able to hear with more clarity. there were no tears of overwhelming happiness, instead he’d simply smiled at his mother when she asked if he could hear her and said yes.

it took him six months to decide he needed to move. despite his family still living in the area he grew up in, he needed to get away. he wanted out of the city and eventually settled on moving to beauhart, a place suggested by one of the few friends he kept in touch with post-accident. the official transition happened three months ago where he moved out of the apartment he bought for himself at twenty and into his own home. it was a bit large for just himself and his mother worried that he would fall back into bad habits, but he loved the old styled place. it had a front porch and was painted a gentle yellow. the front was filled with a garden of flowers and bushes that wrapped around to the fence that encased the backyard. his father hated it, but his grandparents had approved when they first saw it, having travelled with his mother to help with the unpacking once everything had arrived. it held more warmth than his apartment had. perhaps it was because he was going to be living in it full time or the character / personality the house itself had. regardless, he felt settled for the first time in almost two years. no one mentioned the grand piano that had been placed in the third bedroom of the house.

three months post move found him working at the local bakery. the early mornings were tough, but the consistency was enjoyable for him. it helped, significantly, with his mental health. he promised his mother to call at least twice a week and his grandmother almost every other day to gossip. despite his awkwardness with social cues and languid nature, he managed to make connections with other residents. things seemed to be looking up, though there still remained that empty part of him and a door unopened.

extras

he is, for all intents and purposes, socially an idiot. he can’t pick up verbal cues up very well and often chooses to ignore them even if they are glaringly obvious. some kind find this incredibly annoying or be endeared by it. usually it’s the former, though avery has never minded. he has no desire to be liked by everyone and is more than happy to continue going by the beat of his own drum.

definitely often produces the wrong first impressions, especially with his looks. he takes care of himself, has been instilled with the habit, especially after how rough his twenty-third and fourth year was. so it’s not often he goes out looking like the drowned rat he enjoys being at home. it’s part of his routine that has helped him stay on track mentally.

definitely a momma’s boy, but would literally do anything for his grandparents. he is planning on having them visiting him as soon as he manages to get his guest room furnished and decorated. 

 if he wants to avoid something, he ignores it. it’s a terrible coping habit that manifests in small instances and larger situations. it’s very childish in many ways, but his therapist has yet to be able to break him out of it. 

is looking into adopting an animal, but is torn between what sort of animal. he has been looking at the humane society, but has yet been able to decide.

he is very indecisive about the smallest of things, but somehow manages to be able to make the bigger and more important decisions ??? 

has a very weird and varied taste in music.

 learned korean from his grandparents when he was younger but primarily speaks english or asl. 

often moves around his house without his hearing aids and keeps things quiet. a book nerd post accident. his favourite thing to do is spend the day on his porch swing reading.

he has been thinking of taking online business courses to learn more about running/owning his own business. he hasn’t mentioned it to anyone, not is planning to, but when he thinks about the future he’s wondering if owning his own bakery could be a possible option.

honestly a sleepy boy even though he has a perfectly reasonable sleep schedule ???

doesn’t know how to flirt. doesn’t even know how to hold a conversation with someone he has a crush on. is very awkward with them.

likes to try and make wacky things (baking wise) when bored then try and make you try it without any forewarning. 

is actually pretty good at making elaborate cakes and frosting designs. does cake commissions on the side for birthdays, in fact.

gets lost really easily. its been three months and he still sometimes forgets where to turn when driving home.

will steal your pet if you leave him alone with them ( not literally ).

is terrible at texting and is the type of person to call you to have a conversation. this is mostly because he’s too lazy to text.

enjoys memes and quotes them sarcastically, sometimes when it’s definitely not appropriate.

has a habit of staring without meaning too. this could either be off into space or actually at someone. he doesn’t necessarily mean to do it. at times it’s a case of dissociation and others it’s simply him having no common sense and/or is blatant day dreaming.

will not ride as a passenger in a car. he’s been able to drive again post implants but the trauma of the accident has caused him a real fear of being someone else’s passenger. 

sometimes, without him realizing it, he’ll mime playing the piano. the habit of pressing his fingers into invisible keys too engrained to erase. he attempts to avoid music a lot, especially classical. it’s somewhat impossible to do at work and outside of his home. at times, he gives in to his desire to try and hear it the way he used to and will blast the music until he can feel the base thrumming in his veins. it’s as detoxing as it is frustrating. as much as he can hear, it will never be like it used to be for him.

if you read all of this i applaud you. tell me your favourite colour, animal, and/or food and then we can plot C:<

[damienthepious]

cutting it close this week fam. one hour left on the clock in my timezone though! still not late to the Lizard Kissin’!

Crawling Along The Hours To You

[ao3]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Established Relationship, Temporary Separation, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Summary: Rilla is quite possibly the most skilled doctor in the Second Citadel. Sometimes, this means she must go fairly far afield to do her work, and Lord Arum and Sir Damien are left to await her return.

Notes: I wrote literally all of this today. This was NOT what I planned to post today initially, but the idea invaded my brain (whY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING). Hope you enjoy? Love y'all! Title taken from Waiting Around Again by Eliza Rickman.

EDIT: now accompanied by INCREDIBLE fanart by @spinningstraw!!! THANK U SO MUCH I SHALL CRY NOW. ]

***

Arum creeps into the bedroom, the claws of his toes clicking softly on the wooden floor of Rilla’s hut, and slinks towards the bed with a deep sigh, his shoulders hunched and his head low.

When his fingers meet the edge of the sheets, Arum only just has time to notice the unexpected shape in the bed before Damien jolts awake with a sharp inhale, sitting halfway upright and blinking furiously against the dark, and Arum leaps a full foot backwards in surprise.

“H-honeysuckle?” Arum growls against his own embarrassment, claws flexing in the air. “I thought- I thought you were staying at the barracks-”

Damien’s startled breaths ease into a relieved exhale when he recognizes Arum, and he runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, mussing it further. “I… Lord Arum, I was not expecting… what are you doing here?”

Arum’s tail curls behind him, slithering anxious, and his tongue flicks as he avoids Damien’s puzzled gaze. “I…” his jaw snaps shut a few times, teeth clicking. “I believe I asked first, takatakataka,” he deflects, folding his arms over his chest.

Damien pulls his knees closer to his chest as he sits on the bed, and his breath catches oddly. “It’s- I am being- I’m afraid I am acting rather foolishly,” he says with a distinct waver in his voice. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand another night there, another night in a cot that I have never shared with any that I love, another night alone-”

Arum’s body sways towards the knight automatically, the urge to comfort him stronger than his own embarrassment by far, his mortification at being caught eased, somewhat, by the knowledge that Damien is yearning for Amaryllis as much as Arum himself is. The most egregious downside of Amaryllis’ brilliant mind is that she is so often needed by the rest of her soft-headed species, and an outbreak of some magical illness or another in a town near the border of the Second Citadel has resulted in her being called away for nearly three weeks, now.

(”I don’t care about doing a favor for the Queen,” she says with a roll of the eyes as she packs her bags, putting extra care into the arrangement of her tinctures and salves, “but a lot of people are sick, and I know damn well I can help them. I know it’s not exactly ideal, Arum, but it’s my job-)

Arum blinks to clear his mind, then slinks towards the bed, kneeling when he is close so that his eyes are level with Damien’s. This puts him within Damien's reach, though he keeps his claws to himself for now. “And- and why did you not come through to the Keep then, if you felt… if you did not wish to be alone?” Arum asks, soft.

“I did not want to trouble you,” Damien says, dropping his eyes. “I know full well that I can be… overwhelming when my emotions run high, and I have been missing our lovely Rilla quite…” his lip trembles, just barely, and Arum can see a brightness in his eyes even in the dark. “Quite terribly,” he finishes in a whisper. “I’m afraid I have been driving my fellow knights nearly mad with my longing, and I did not wish to bring that home to you. I did not want to be a bother.”

“So you decided to come curl up alone and miserable somewhere that she could not possibly leave your mind instead?” Arum asks, incredulous, and the words are already out before he realizes-

“It seems we had similar instincts on that front,” Damien points out, his lip curling into a playful smile as he reaches forward to brush his fingers along Arum’s shoulder and then down his arm. “It is probably better, this way. Missing her together instead of missing her alone.”

Arum growls low again, but there is no sense in denying the truth of Damien’s words. The Keep has been unbearably quiet without Rilla ducking in and out throughout the day, borrowing supplies and asking questions and bullying him into taking regular meals, and his nights have been twice as maddening, since Damien’s early mornings with his fellow knights have made it difficult for him to overnight at the Keep with any regularity as of late, leaving Arum to sleep alone. It has been far too reminiscent of the past for Arum’s comfort, too similar to how his life had been before. When he slipped into his own bedroom tonight and realized he could no longer catch Amaryllis’ scent on the air it had snapped his willpower in two, and the Keep had not even teased when it opened the portal to Amaryllis’ home for him.

He sighs, then climbs up onto the bed, pushing Damien back and slipping under the covers beside him until he can drape his entire body along the furnace-heat of Damien’s skin. The bed here still smells of Amaryllis, subtle and sweet, herbs and flowers and the soft soaps she uses for her hair, and alongside the brighter, more urgent scent of Damien’s skin (linen and feathers and the permanent stain of ink on his fingers), Arum finally feels steady again. He feels as if Amaryllis could be just a room over, working late, soon to join them.

“You are… probably correct,” Arum admits, only when he can breathe the words into Damien’s hair instead of the open air of the room. “I could not possibly leave you alone now anyway, honeysuckle. Entirely unacceptable, you wallowing in loneliness when I could so easily keep you in my clutches instead.”

Damien laughs softly, his fingers dancing light down the scales of Arum’s back. “I will need to wake early to return to the Citadel in time tomorrow,” he warns. “I would not blame you if you would rather-”

“I ‘would rather’ take what moments I can with you, honeysuckle,” Arum growls, and then he sighs, nuzzling against Damien’s cheek. “And… and I would rather not be alone, either. The pair of you have caused me to grow far too dependent on your presence, you unscrupulous creatures.”

Damien hugs him closer, knowing Arum’s grumbled complaint for the quiet admission of love that it is. “It won’t be long until she returns to us,” he says softly, as much to assuage his own longing as to comfort Arum. “The Queen assures me that the crisis is almost entirely averted, and Rilla is staying merely to ensure that her treatments will last. We must… we must simply be patient, and she will return in no time at all.”

Arum has never been particularly adept at being patient. He growls, twining his tail around Damien’s leg, as if it were at all possible to draw him closer. “Of course,” he hisses, unconvincing and unconvinced.

Damien pauses, and after a moment presses a kiss to the crook of Arum’s neck, by the edge of his frill, and then tucks his head against Arum’s shoulder as if he were always meant to fit there. “I hadn’t realized…” he pauses again. “I have… I have endured Rilla’s absences before, as her skills have always been in high demand. I hadn’t considered that this is the first time since we… since us, that she has been called away.”

Arum grumbles under his breath, nothing that quite approaches actual words.

“It is… I am glad you are here with me now,” Damien says softly, his lips still brushing Arum’s scales. “It is easier… the pain of absence is lessened when we may commiserate and comfort each other in turn. When there are still arms to return to, still a heartbeat and steady breaths with which to lull each other to sleep.”

Arum does not like the thought of Damien alone in Amaryllis’ absence, truly alone, before the three of them. Damien alone seems like an unnatural state of affairs. And… Damien is right, about the lulling. Damien’s hands, Damien’s heart, Damien’s heat; Arum can feel it drawing sleep towards him like a tide, here in the safety of Amaryllis’ room. He knows he cannot match Damien’s words, though, and he does not try. Instead he simply draws his own hands as soothingly as he can across Damien’s skin, through his hair, down his back, purring low and deep.

“Sleep you should, honeysuckle,” he murmurs. “Go back to sleep, and when we wake together, we shall be one day closer to when she will return to us.”

Arum can feel the curve of Damien’s smile against his scales, and the sweetness of the creature in his arms could drown Arum if he let it. He nuzzles against Damien’s hair, nudges his snout against his temple in an almost-kiss, and settles to rest in the comfort of his arms.

Some sunrise soon, Amaryllis will return to them. In the meantime, they can endure if they endure together, for a little while longer at least.