#prequel to you're safe now I'm here

[anyarose011]

Born Too Late III: "It Ain't Me, Babe"

Pairing: DBF!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: You're not out of the woods even after your roommate's crazy ex-boyfriend beat you to a pulp. Over a series of setbacks pushing you to the brink of several panic attacks (or is it just one really long one?), you still manage to find refuge in a few, safe people. But, in the words of Doechii "And just when it couldn't get worse", the worst possible person finds out about you and Robby...

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past Physical Assault, Blood, Inevitable Medical Inacuracies, Allusion/Mention of Sexual Assault, ANGST, Trent and Kimi, Reader has valid crashout(s), Healing of Daddy Issues?, Rant about a Real Criminology Concept, and a Realistic but Open-Ending.

I do have to say that this was one of my favorite stories to write on here. Not even for the purpose of Robby x Reader, I just loved the dynamics of all the characters and plot overall. I truly hope that the ending doesn't seem like a cop out; my intention was to write it as real as possible, especially since this all took place in one day. I'm tempted to write a prequel to this, showing all of the "missing scenes" alluded to throughout the story with Robby. We'll see how I feel lol. Thank you guys for ALL your interest, and hope you enjoy the ending! Sorry not sorry about the length, I yap 😭

Word Count: 9.2k

There were people you knew who had resting bitch faces. Dennis Whitaker was the first person you met to have a resting scared face.

That, and it was also because he asked you if you were okay, and you didn’t say anything.

He called your name. “Are you okay?”

Your mouth trembled as you tried to find the words. What left your lips must have been from the depths of your subconscious.

“Where-where’s my dad?”

You were outside of your body, but you couldn’t even see yourself. Hell, you didn’t feel like yourself.

Whitaker furrowed his brow. “Your…your dad?”

All you could do was nod.

“I’m not sure.” He responded gently. “Can I take your hand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t know why you couldn’t. Whitaker took your hand, leading you alongside him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a bit; I know things have been crazy.” He smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Have you eaten anything besides chocolate today?”

You shook your head. “Have you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We can go get something from one of the vending machines in the break room.”

“I want to go home.”

God, could you sound even more like a sniveling child?

Whitaker stopped just a few feet away from the elevator and so did you. He got a better look at you; either that, or he was finally saying everything he first noticed when he ran into you.

 “What happened to your nose?” He asked gently. “It’s kinda swollen.”

“I don’t know.”

Why did you say that so swiftly?

He frowned. “Were you crying just now? I think some of your mascara got onto your cheeks.”

Instinctively, you wiped your face with your free hand as if you would find any residue. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing.”

Whitaker took a deep breath, lowering his voice and saying your name. “I’m going to be honest, I think you should get checked out by someone here. It doesn’t have to be me, but I think something bad happened to you. You don’t have to tell me-.”

“-I’m fine.”

“But please, let me help you.”

It felt wrong, how he wanted to. No, it was his job to do that; there’s no way someone could see right through you when you were actually not doing well. You had relationships (friendships and romantic) where you had to earn the privilege of people caring for you.

You’d gotten used to it. Mainly with Kimi but also others who you thought were safe.

It felt like your skin was burning, and it was only then you realized you were still holding his hand. So, you dropped it.

“Thank you,” you felt like a puppet on strings as your mouth moved. “but really I’m fine.”

“Did you drive here?”

He wasn’t giving up.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I know what you’re doing, I can-.”

“-One of the guys on the night shift got here early and discharged me.” He interrupted, yet somehow, you weren’t annoyed. “We can go get your stuff and then get dinner. Anywhere you want, my treat. I mean, as long as it’s not like over a hundred bucks or something.”

You wondered if he was smiling out of nerves or trying to cheer you up. In your experience, it was usually both.

“I’ll drive.” You stated.

He thinned his lips. “You had a rough day; I can do it.”

You snorted. “So, if you’re driving my car, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Usually, you would’ve made a joke about his male privilege and being so carefree about taking an Uber home late at night, but circumstances didn’t allow you to. Still, as if it hadn’t been one of the worst days of your life, a watery smile pulled onto your lips.

The ‘ding!’ of the elevator beside you made your head turn, and the doors slid open. Standing there, was Trent, seething. Blood coursed down from his nose to his chin, and where you once saw nothing behind his eyes, they were now filled with the rage you knew all too well.

You met his gaze the same time your soul left your body.

“You fucking bitch!” He charged you.

It happened all so fast.

Trent was just a hair away from you one moment, the next, Whitaker flung you behind him. You landed onto the ground, and when you looked up, you saw Whitaker go face first onto the floor beside you.

Crying in horror, you grabbed onto a nearby cart and pulled yourself onto your feet. Everything playing in your ears was simply noise; people were yelling and screaming, but you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

It was only your eyes you could trust.

If they did not deceive you, you watched Jack Abbott tackle Trent to the ground; the first one to do so…When did he get there?

And, it was then that your vision began to blur as tears clouded your sight, that part of your hearing returned. As you stood there, with Jack holding Trent down, for verbatim, you heard.

“Did you get off my little girl when she told you to?!”

Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulders, turning you away, but something in your body told you that they were safe. You could barely see anything as you were led through the ER; only hazy objects and blaring lights. Someone was talking in your ear too, but again, it was just all noise upon the noise coming from the catastrophe behind you.

 You hadn’t even realized you were clinging to the person like a buoy in an ocean you were stranded in until you heard a door slide shut behind you. Like a miracle, your vision started clearing up, and air entered through your nose and into your lungs.

Then, the taste of blood on your tongue.

You touched your nose, pulling your hands away to see them coated in red.

Melissa King gently called your name, placing her hand on your back.

“You should sit down.” She moved away from you to dim the lights, and your eyes caught sight of one Heather Collins in the room as well, prepping one of the beds.

Somehow, just at the sight of a medical bed, did you finally realize how much everything hurt.

Yet, you couldn’t rest.

The little girl, practically a baby, the one who got stung by a bee, you had to make sure she was okay, you had to-!

Collins rested her hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “It’s okay. Robby checked on her a minute ago, she’s fine. You need to sit down.”

Did you say all of that aloud? Could she read your mind? Oh God, if she could, then does she know-?!

“-Holy fucking shit!” Santos opened the door, and you never knew her face could morph into such fear. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Is Dennis okay?!”

He threw himself in front of you and was fucking pummeled to the floor!

Santos looked out the door before looking back. “I’m gonna be honest, his nose kinda looks messed up. But hey, you’re twinning.”

“Santos!” Collins scolded.

“Right, you’re right.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry I-.”

“-I heard you had a spinal tap to do.” Collins interrupted.

“I’ll go.” Santos gave one last look to you. “I’ll talk to you later, I swear.”

And then she left. It wasn’t the strangest, nor the quickest, interaction you had with someone…but fucking hell, this day.

Mel said your name again, but this time, strained. You looked at her and saw her gaze downwards at your pants. Following it, you saw blood seeping through the fabric around your groin.

Your jaw trembled as you looked back up at both her and Collins. As professionals, you knew they had seen worse than this. As women, you could see that familiar look of horror on their faces.

“He didn’t do anything.” Were your first words. “Not like that.”

“Baby…” Collins uttered.

“No, no,” You resisted. “I’m on my period! I-I-Mel, you gave me a pad this morning. I got him off me and-and I got it out and put it in his face so he’d stay off. I-I-I mean he bragged about pulling a girl’s tampon out of his mouth one time, so I didn’t think he’d overreact.”

What were you even saying?!

“I’ve had sex before! I-I would know, I would know if that bastard did something to me and-and-!” You hiccupped, feeling more blood seep through your nose and into your mouth.

“It’s okay,” Collins soothed. “we believe you. Can you sit down so I can assess you?”

What other choice did you have?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you tried to catch the blood still gushing out of your nose before it could get on more of your clothes. Too late for that.

Mel went to one of the drawers nearby as Collins held up her finger. “Follow it.”

You did; passed with flying colors.

“EOM is intact.” She told herself, then took a mini flashlight from her pocket, shining it in your eyes. “Pupils are reactive. Do you have a headache?”

“Kinda.”

“Does it hurt to breathe through your nose?”

“Weird, but doesn’t hurt.”

Mel came beside you with a handful of tissues and a nasal tampon. “I’m going to clean up the area around your nose, and this should pack the bleeding.”

You hummed. “You got one for me to put between my legs?”

She shook her head.

“Extra pants?”

Collins slipped off her sweatshirt, draping it over your legs. “I got some in my locker, plus a pad.”

You nodded, getting choked up. “Thank you.”

“Mel,” she looked at her. “could you finish up?”

She affirmed. “Of course.”

“I’ll grab some icepacks.”

Collins left, leaving you alone with Mel. It felt strange; both your body and the entire day. Still, Mel wasn’t one to dwell on it, unlike you.

She brought the tissues up to your nose. “Your gonna feel some pressure.”

You grunted as she placed the Kleenex onto your nostrils. The white tissues turned red, and she carefully slid the tampon into your left nostril. Apparently, that was the only one bleeding.

Mel placed her thumbs on your face. “Tell me when you feel pressure.”

They traveled up around the area of your nose, and it was only when she touched the septum did you hiss in pain. Mel walked back over to the drawer, then taking out a few wet wipes.

“Well,” she hunched over, cleaning the blood off of you as gently as she could. “it’s not misshapen, so that’s good. It’s not broken either. Swollen and bruised, but all you really need are icepacks and I could get you some pain medication.”

“Could you take pictures?” You asked out of the blue.

 “I’m sorry?”

“Police usually take pictures of injuries for evidence, but could you?” You explained. “I just want to get it out of the way.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, of course. Is it just your nose?”

You sighed. “No. It might be my head, I don’t know. He kicked me in the ribs…I think…yes, he did.”

“If you feel comfortable, would you want me to take pictures of those too?”

“Yes.” You said with certainty.

She backed up enough to give you space, taking out her phone. You decided to start with your ribs. They were tender, but thankfully, it wasn’t impossible to pull your shirt up. After Mel took a picture, you pulled it back down and she took a few photos of your nose and head.

“This is the worst photoshoot I’ve ever been in.” You joked.

“I’ve never been in one.” She stated.

“Let’s change that when the weather’s better.”

“Alright.” She put her phone away. “Now-.”

The door slid open, and in came Kimi like a bat out of hell.

“-What the hell did he do to you?!” She approached you.

Mel placed her hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be in here-.”

“-Fuck you, she’s my roommate.” She kneeled in front of you. “Baby, what happened?”

You hadn’t realized there was a long list of people you didn’t want to see at that moment, and she was near the top. You looked away, scowling and slipping the tampon out of your nose. Luckily, the blood finally stopped.

She didn’t take that as you being angry with her. She huffed. “Motherfucker. What’d you say to him?”

You finally looked at her. “What?”

“I’m just asking.” She explained. “He’s never done this before when I was a bitch, so you probably pissed him off-.”

You laughed. “-You’re an idiot.”

Kimi’s eyes shifted. At first, she was confused, then it quickly seeped into appalment. “What do you mean?”

You fell into a fit of giggles like Alice did down the rabbit hole. “I have told you hundreds, thousands, of times that whenever Trent hit something near you or me, then he actually wanted to hit one of us!”

Standing up, you weren’t laughing now. “And my God, I have never met someone who hates themselves so much, they bring a baby into the world for validation. But no, no, no, they’re not expecting to get it from the kid, they’re so fucking stupid they still think they’ll get it from the dad!”

The door slid open gently, and Collins came back in, carrying the pants, a single pad, and an ice pack. She said nothing.

Kimi didn’t lash out, and that’s what terrified you. Tears flew down her cheeks as you yelled at her, but she took a deep breath once you were finished.

“So, what should I do? Fuck my fifty-year-old boss?” She huffed. “How’s that working out for you?”

She marched out of the room, past Collins.

A part of you wished that Trent had killed you in the bathroom; you couldn’t feel shame if you were dead.

If not that, then you wished he somehow blinded you; just so that you wouldn’t have to see the way Heather Collins’s face dropped at the revelation.

Those two seconds in that room were brutal after Kimi left. Just where your gaze could only fall to the floor, and you didn’t even want to imagine the looks Mel and Collins were giving each other; or you.

“She has whiplash.” Collins said. “She can’t leave alone unless she signs an AMA.”

Just like that, you felt Mel hover her hand over your shoulder before retracting it and rushing out of the room. You stood there like a child who had just been yelled at, and didn’t dare to even breathe.

“How about we put these on?”

And Heather spoke to you like you were still one, but not with any hint of disdain in her voice. Hesitantly, you looked up and saw her holding the pants out to you. With shaking hands, you took them in yours.

She picked up her sweatshirt from the floor. “I’ll cover you. You can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, and she draped the sweatshirt in front of you, giving you privacy from any peering eyes outside. Slowly, after getting your pants down to your knees, you slipped your underwear down; your ribs aching with every move. You managed to secure the pad, and as you tried to pull your pants all the way down, the sharpness in your side forced a hiss out of you.

“You need help?” She asked.

You shook your head immediately but seethed and clutched your ribs when you tried again. Collins set her sweatshirt aside, placing a comforting hand on your back and dropping down.

“I got it.”

She helped you out of your bloodied pants, and you placed your hands on her shoulders as you put one leg into each hole of the pants she got for you. Your eyes watered at the familiar feeling; how old were you the last time you did this? Seven? It’s so strange to remember such a small thing as your mother dressing you, not knowing when it would be the last time.

“There we go.” Collins smiled, standing back up, then guiding you to sit back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You finally managed to say, even if it was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, handing you an ice pack. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She hates you. You told yourself.

You saw Kiara come to the door, and your heart leapt into your chest. She waited as Collins cracked it open, and they talked in hushed tones. In the end, Kiara came in and she sat at your side.

You had to cross your arms to keep yourself from throwing them around her. You doubt she would’ve cared, but it was strange; at that moment, you wanted to be held, but still would’ve felt like you were suffocating.

“Hey.” She greeted gently.

“Where is he?” You asked.

 “Well,” she began, not knowing exactly who you were asking for. “Whittaker’s being checked on, and he won’t stop asking if you’re alright. Trent was secured in a room, but the police just arrived so he’s in custody now. They want to talk to you, is that okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a fucking man, I’m leaving.”

“There’s a woman.” She comforted. “She already volunteered to speak with you. At any point, if you want to stop-.”

“-I won’t.”

She said your name, warning but not to scare you. “I know you want justice; we all do. Still, you have to do what is best for you in the moment. You have every right to react the way you need to. Do you want Dr. Collins to be in here?”

You shook your head.

“Alright.” Kiara looked at her. “Could you send in officer Moreno, please?”

Collins nodded. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Before you could say that her shift was over, she left. There you sat with Kiara, staring at an empty corner of the room. Without thinking, you laid your head on her shoulder. She said nothing; just ran her hand up and down your back as the officer came in.

It was different being the one to tell the police what happened to you. You were either in the cop’s position asking questions, or Kiara’s, just being a support for the other person.

Officer Moreno was nice enough. She never pushed you, but she wasn’t exactly comforting either. You understood she just wanted everything to write a report for, but you knew this wouldn’t be the last person you’d have to talk to.

The more you spoke about what happened to you in the last fifteen minutes (fuck…was that all it’d been?), the heavier your body became. You didn’t even feel a hint of fear or sadness within you; just the aching in your nose, and the exhaustion that swept over you.

Officer Moreno asked to take photos of your injuries, and you told her you’d taken them already, saying you’d give them to her.

“You’re efficient.” She complimented.

I have to be; you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t. You said in your head, but aloud you uttered. “Thanks.”

She left you with a phone number to send pictures to the police, a case number if you “remember anything else”, and a “Goodnight.”

That left you and Kiara together.

“Where’s Kimi?” You asked.

“She was calling her mom to pick her up last time I checked.” She answered. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my dad to.”

“Dr. Abbott’s on call right now.”

Of course she knows.

“I can do it.” She offered.

“Kiara.” You said. “I’ll call a friend from my building.”

“I just want you to get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled. “You’ve been here longer today. Go home.”

She sighed, standing. “You’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll get Zidan to escort you out if you do.”

You forgot who that was for a moment, until you remembered him as the security guard. You were going to have to make him cookies or something; he probably had to deal with not just Trent, but a million other people.

Kiara said goodbye, giving you one last look before leaving. Just as you stood up to escape, Collins came back inside, carrying your purse and lunchbox.

“I’m sorry, I got the code from Jack.” She set them down. “How’re you feeling?”

You don’t know why, you had been asked that damn question countless times that day, but Collins asking it was the final nail in the coffin. Hours of repressed tears finally escaped your eyes, and you covered your mouth.

She immediately placed her hands on your arms, looking over you. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m sorry.” You hiccupped, rubbing your eyes.

“There’s nothing to-.”

“-Yes, there is!” You sobbed, and everything came out like a confession in a Catholic church. “I-I didn’t know you and Robby were together. I-I didn’t even know that he’d be a supervisor, or-or that I’d work with him, or even-or even that…”

Collins wrapped her arms around you, and you hid your head in her shoulder. She shushed. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” she pulled away, still holding onto you. “I’m not.”

You searched her face. You couldn’t find a hint of anger, but you knew she had to have felt something towards you. “Weren’t-weren’t you together…?”

“Not for a long time.” She shook her head.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve; you had cried all of your mascara off. Sighing, you picked up your belongings.

“I’ll wash your pants. Thanks.”

She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just wait a little bit.”

“You’re done with your shift, I’m done with mine.” You shrugged her off. “I’ll call a friend, I won’t drive.”

Except you would.

Collins said your name, and you only wished her goodnight, walking out the door. It was a miracle no one was instantly surrounding you, asking for answers to questions you had no energy to even listen to. You were making your way to the door to Chairs when-.

Your name left your stepfather’s mouth. You glanced to the side and saw him making a beeline towards you from across the room. Without any uncertainty, you turned around and walked back where you came from.

Like a demon in the night, you felt panic fester within you once again, just when you thought it was all over. You weren’t running, but your legs began to burn alongside your chest as you tried to find the nearest exit.

You pushed your way outside and found yourself in the ambulance bay. Still, despite there being only two paramedics and one security guard, there were still too many people. Your vision blurred once again, and you limped against the wall until you found the small opening to the alleyway.

Collapsing against the brick wall, you dropped everything you were holding and hid your eyes in your hands.

And you cried; really, truly cried.

Then crying turned into sobbing, then to weeping, then into you having to cover your mouth as you started wailing. You didn’t know when the walls of the alleyway started closing in on you, and neither did you know if it was your own shame or the walls crushing you to the point where it hurt to breathe.

You couldn’t even think. Every time you panicked, the weight of the world and all of your actions came into your head like a horrible flicker. Not now; no, there was nothing but white, hot pain.

“Put your head between your legs.”

They were just words. You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you listened. Knees bent, you bowed your head.

“Breathe.” The voice said, and it sounded deeper. “In and out. In and out.”

You did. The countless times you had to coach someone through an anxiety attack coming back to you.

It must’ve been another minute before you could feel your heart slow down and hear the ordinary sounds of the night; a pleasant mix of the bugs on the ground beside you, and a near-distant ringing of an ambulance.

“Rough day?”

It was Robby. That was the voice who had guided you through the second panic attack that day…or was it your third? Or had you just been in one that lasted a full half-hour?

You laughed upon looking at him, shaking your head and drying your eyes.

He offered a pitiful smile. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” You heaved. “Does this mean I’m doing a good job at coping if I’m laughing?”

Robby shrugged. “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”

“I’ve done too much of that today.”

He nodded, not saying anything. You rested your head against the brick wall. Maybe it was better that you saw him after all the shit that hit you in such a short amount of time. In the end, tears and all, the whole day was just ridiculous.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” You asked.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He looked at you.

Sighing, you realized that, yes, you actually did.

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted.” You said it so easily. “It just…hurt, what he did. Nothing’s broken but I still feel like shit and it’s…it’s funny. I apologized. I was so unprofessional towards him, and I apologized, but he still did this. I did everything right and he still did this!”

Robby shook his head. “Don’t go down that road. Nothing you did to him could ever justify what he did to you.”

“No,” you didn’t even listen, tone laced with sarcasm. “I did so many things wrong now that I think about it. ‘Christie’s Ideal Victim, 1986’; there are five things that make the perfect victim. ‘She, always a she, is physically weaker than the attacker’; gold mine if she’s a kid or a grandma, so I did that wrong. ‘The victim is doing a respectable task when the attack happens’: I was having a mental breakdown, so debatable. ‘Next, the attack happens in a place she could not be blamed for being in’; I was in a sketchy as fuck bathroom in the basement, so yeah, my fault. ‘The offender is physically stronger’; holy shit, he was, so I did that one right! ‘Finally, the victim has no prior relationship to the offender; he is a stranger.’ Well shit, I failed the perfect victim test.”

He sighed, saying your name.

“I’m not done.” You said, voice shaking. “Now I added my own qualifications to this obviously bullshit concept we were taught for ‘educational purposes despite how out of date it is’. What did I add, you’re asking? Only pretty girls, only nice girls, only virgin girls, and only white girls. Those are the only girls that apparently are the perfect victims to a lot of people. It’s been almost forty years, and there are still people who believe it.”

Robby’s gaze never left you, even when you looked away from him, talking to the actual brick wall in front of you. Yet…he listened. He was quiet after you finished, but only to let you breathe.

“I didn’t know any of that.” He finally said. “It’s horrible.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, that teaching just always stuck with me and…”

“It came out tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You brought your knees to your chest. “I’m gonna have to see Trent and Kimi again. Court, I think.”

“If you ever need-.”

“-I need a cigarette,” you tried to diffuse the pain, despite bringing it up. “that’s what I need.”

He scoffed. “Should’ve asked me five years ago. Anything else I could get for you?”

“Is there a Jewish prayer that kills someone?”

“You smoke and you’re religious?” He feigned shock, but you could still see inklings of it on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many secrets.”

“Answer the question, Robinavitch.”

“No.” He huffed. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“I’m not really religious either.” You sighed. “After the day I had though…”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

“You’ve been a girl lost in her twenties before?”

“I’m a son-of-a-bitch in my fifties, and I’m still lost.”

As if you shared a mind, you both laughed. It wasn’t loud or even jubilant; more so just an acknowledgement of how weird the whole situation was. There was a sense of familiarity with how you were talking to him.

How you and Michael joked around but also were capable of serious conversations, whether it was about personal struggles or just current events.

Now though? As you sat in an alleyway just outside of the place you discovered who Robby really was? There was more of an honesty; a shameless one.

“Makes sense,” you wheezed. “we fucked each other.”

Although he was getting over his laughter, he still asked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Your smile began to fall, but somehow, you couldn’t lose it fully. Call it insanity, or call it nerves, you still spoke with it.

“I mean…I actually liked you.” You admitted, and instead of feeling horrible, it felt better to finally say it. “I slept with you because you were nice, and you made me feel safe, not just because I had an itch or something. I knew we wouldn’t date or anything, but…I just really liked you.”

Robby had a horrible poker face when it came to women; he told you that when you first caught him smiling in a way you’d never seen a man smile at you before. Now, he was looking at you, face fallen into…not exactly pity, but something alike to it.

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it was never my intention.”

“…You kissed my forehead the next morning, then left. I saw the note saying I could stay but…I felt stupid just waiting for you, so I went home. You didn’t leave me your number or anything else, then I didn’t see you again.” You sounded more confused than wounded. “I know I was stupid. You probably just wanted to feel younger and-.”

“-It mattered to me.” He stopped you. “Yes, there’s no way we can keep this up; I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Don’t think that I regretted it, or that it didn’t mean anything to me. I liked you too.”

You genuinely didn’t expect him to be so vocal about it. It would’ve been easier for him to just nod and agree that it was nothing more than a primal feeling; no emotions on his side. Still, there he was, openly admitting it all.

You breathed in through your nose, despite how strange it felt. “I wish I was born the same year you were.”

Robby kept his eyes on your form, and when you glanced over at him, you wondered if his response would be ‘Me too.’

But it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t have been good for you.” He confessed.

“Why not?”

He said your name, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallowed, knowing that he meant it. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to find the right person one day, and they’ll be your age-.”

A laugh left your mouth. Except, it wasn’t a spiteful or doubtful one, even Robby could tell. It was the most genuine and honest one you felt that day.

“I fucking knew it!” You bragged.

He snorted. “What?”

“You had to have had that line in the holster or something.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many movies.” He laughed with you.

The both of you just sat there in the peculiar change of emotions. Of course it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to you that day. To add to it, you said.

“I’m wearing your ex-girlfriend’s pants. She and Dr. King know, by the way.” He snapped his gaze at you, and you thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest. You shrugged. “Collins she…it’s probably just because I got the shit beaten out of me, but she acted like she didn’t care.”

Robby looked back at the brick wall, taking it all in. After a while he said. “That’s why she looked like she was gonna kill me a second ago.”

You snorted. “When?”

“Before you ran out here.” He clarified. “Jack saw you, I told him I’d talk to you because he was technically on duty, Heather comes out guns blazing saying something like ‘Don’t say a word to her,’. She tried to go after you, but I managed to get her to go home.”

You pursed your lips, surprised at Collins’ protectiveness. “Wanna divide and conquer? I talk to King, you talk to Collins?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. You uh…you gonna be alright? Going home?”

Looking down at your shoes, you took a bit to think. You didn’t really want to go back to your apartment, and maybe Kimi would stay home with her mom…but you were immature, you had just been beaten to a pulp, and you didn’t want to talk to her on the small chance she was at your apartment.

“Yeah, I mean…” It was second nature to avoid the conflict, but you caught yourself. “I know Trent won’t be there, hopefully never again, but I don’t know how I feel around Kimi. I was a piece of shit for what I said, but I don’t know how safe I’ve felt around her for a while. I told her how I felt about her boyfriend, she saw how he treated both of us, and I feel horrible she’s with him, but I won’t be collateral damage again.”

Robby nodded, taking a deep breath. “I might be overstepping, and I get if it’s a last resort, but if you ever feel unsafe at your apartment, you’re welcome to sleep at mine.”

You furrowed your brow, scoffing. “Is that really professional?”

“Just be respectful; and unless you’re dying, you’re on the couch.”

You both chuckled, the overall day only becoming more ludicrous by the second. You decided to add onto it.

“So, save for Collins and King,” you held your pinky up. “swear to never tell anyone about us?”

He snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah, mutually assured destruction. Whoever tells, has their pinky broken.”

 “Makes perfect sense.” He locked his pinky with yours. “Do we have to swear on anything or-?”

“-Nope.” You let go. “Pinky sworn.”

It felt natural after that, how you moved to hug him with no hesitance. He responded in kind, enveloping you into his arms. It felt…different. When you thought of it, the only times you really embraced were in moments of desperation, passion, even.

Now, it was quiet. For the first time that day, you felt at peace; both in your body, and inside his arms.

When he pressed his lips to your cheek just for a second, while it brought back memories, it was simply innocent.

He pulled away first from you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” He said. “‘Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going, no feeling is final.’”

“Oh hell yeah,” you smiled. “Jojo Rabbit.”

He furrowed his brow, not hiding his amusement. “Rainer Maria Rilke.”

“Yeah, it was in Jojo Rabbit.”

“Really? Haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s about a little German boy in the 1940s who has an imaginary friend, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“I don’t think I want to know who it is.” He chuckled.

You hummed, feeling just a little better. You looked around the alleyway, feeling as if you weren’t outside of an ER. “No wonder this is Jack’s favorite place to have a mental breakdown.”

“I would’ve thought the roof?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw that he wanted to take them back.

You blinked. “The…what?”

Well, there was something you had to talk to Jack about. It certainly wouldn’t be that night; too much to unpack.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Was all Robby said, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Sighing, you took it. “Think he’ll say more to me, or to you?”

“Whenever I find him up there,” he pulled you up. “I just guilt trip him into not jumping because that’s a horrible way to start a shift.”

“On parr with finding out you screwed the new hire?”

“Don’t push it.”

You snickered. “I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night.”

He wished you one as well, watching you go back into the ER, carrying all of your belongings. It seemed about as chaotic as you had known the night shift to be; although, it wasn’t even seven-thirty. There was one more person you wanted to see before you left.

Turns out though, there were two more who needed to speak with you.

“We’re not gonna ask if you’re okay because you’ll probably have an aneurysm.” Trinity Santos came up to you with Dennis Whitaker at her side. Her hair was down.

 “Okay?” You snickered, then looked at Whitaker. “Hey…thanks. I’m sorry your nose is fucked.”

He shook his head, offering a shy smile. “Don’t be. My brothers have hit me harder.”

“Aw, he’s just being modest.” Santos draped her arm around his shoulder. “He’s a regular ol’ Superman.”

“More like Clark Kent.” He corrected.

“Same person, Huckleberry.” She counter corrected. “Okay, so medically speaking, how are you doing?”

You pursed your lips. “Medically, my nose isn’t broken but always needs an icepack, I kinda have a headache, and my ribs hurt. Emotionally…everything.”

Santos nodded, a forlorn feeling upon her face; but somehow, you didn’t feel like she was pitying you. “I was about to beat the shit out of that guy if I didn’t have a baby coming in at the same time for a spinal tap. But we-Dennis has a proposition for you.”

All eyes fell on the poor boy whose nose bore a similar, semi-swollen resemblance to yours. He stumbled a little until he found the right words.

“We sometimes get together after a shift and watch a movie to decompress. We get food, and the person who had the worst day gets to choose the movie. We uh…we kinda appointed you, if you want to come. It wouldn’t be anything huge, just the three of us. That might be too much, and maybe you’re exhausted-.”

“-Oh,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “so the only reason you’re inviting me to this secret movie club is because I got the shit beaten out of me?”

“No!” Whitaker gasped. “I-we just thought it’d be good to help overall after a stressful shift-.”

“Huckleberry,” Santos snickered. “she’s just fucking with you.”

He paused. “Oh…”

You smiled. “I’d love to. I uh…I technically shouldn’t be driving but my car’s here-.”

“-Do you mind stopping at Target to get some snacks?” Santos asked.

Pleasantly surprised by her question, you chuckled. “Um, no?”

“No sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I mean that I’ll drive your car, but is it okay if we get snacks on the way back to my place?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great!” She slipped her keys out of her pocket, holding them out to Whitaker. “You remember how to drive something other than a tractor, right?”

He made a face. “I’ve never driven a tractor before.”

“Bullshit, you told me you did.”

He shrugged. “Nebraska doesn’t even exist, why would I know how to drive a tractor?”

The conversation from earlier that day came to mind, and you saw in his eyes that he had it in mind as well. You smiled, turning your face down to hide it from the world. It had been a while since you had an inside joke with someone.

Whitaker took the keys. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“See you soon.” You wished him goodbye. Santos gave him a nod before he left. She turned to you, a shit eating grin on her face. You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, I need to talk to someone first.”

“Who?”

Ah fuck it, You decided.

“My stepdad.” You answered. “He works the nightshift.”

“Damn! Who?”

You smirked. “You’re welcome to follow me at a distance to see.”

She made a face as if debating it. “Nah, I’ll give you privacy.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll see you out front?”

“See you.”

She left through the doors into Chairs. Sighing, you began your search for Jack. On the way, you said a quick ‘hello’ to Ellis and went to check up on the little girl who had a bee sting. She was still there, speaking with the same police officer you had.

Your name cut through the air, and you looked to your right, seeing Jack approaching you. He wore the same look on his face you’d only seen on parents who had just lost their child in a supermarket only to soon find them.

“Hey.” He greeted once he stood in front of you.

“Hi…” You said. “Uh…is it okay to talk? I don’t know if you’re busy-.”

“-Unless Death himself comes into the ER, we’re gonna talk.”

Jack Abbott had technically only been a father for a few years (who knows if you can even count all of them considering you barely were at home after high school?), but he somehow managed to perfectly blend his strict tone into one of reassurance.

So, the two of you walked into the breakroom, and he spoke first.

“How was the shift?”

You smiled, sitting at the table. “Aside from getting the shit beaten out of me by my roommate’s boyfriend? Pretty okay.”

He sat beside you. “That’s a win in my book.”

That was the thing you and Jack had in common the second your mom introduced you to him: dark humor. You never hated him, but you never exactly got close with him. Maybe it was time to change that?

“Are you still in any pain?” He asked.

“Nose is getting a little better but is still sore, and so are my ribs.”

Jack nodded. “You got a ride home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna go hang out with Santos and Whitaker at their place, and then…” You couldn’t finish it. What were you going to do? You didn’t have the strength anymore to lie, saying you’d drive back to your apartment where Kimi might be.

You refused to stay with Robby, maybe Santos and Whitaker would take pity on you?

“I don’t know.” You choked on your words. “I said some horrible things to Kimi, but she also blamed me for what Trent did, and I…I don’t wanna go back to the apartment.”

Jack’s eyes softened. “You still got a key to the house?”

“Yours? Yeah.”

 “If you want to, your room’s still the same.”

You hadn’t slept in it since your mother died. You’d sometimes drive home from college and sleep over, so both your mom and Jack left it alone.

“You didn’t change it?” You couldn’t believe it.

He shrugged. “It’d take more effort to turn it into something else. I mean, it’s probably dusty as hell, but your bed’s still there, all your weird little trinkets and stuff from high school too.”

You scoffed. “It’s only weird to you, grandpa.”

“Sure, Jan.”

Both of you snickered, falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t known you lost. As it died down, Jack asked.

“But, you’re doing okay, kiddo? If you want to talk about it-.”

“-Not tonight.” You interrupted. “It’s just a lot but…you’ve probably seen worse.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but he held back. It would’ve led down a farther hole of trauma, which you both knew you could not deal with. Instead, he asked. “You do anything I taught you?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Kicked his knee in and got creative with what I had around me.”

“Your pad, I heard.”

“It was his own fault he dabbled in fuckery!”

“Certainly was.”

“What…happened to him?”

Jack’s face grew sullen. Breathing through his nose, he said. “I got to him first and Robby had to pry me off. Bastard’s lucky he didn’t get a taste of my right foot.”

Damn…he was serious.

“Police took him away; I didn’t even get a slap on the wrist because he assaulted both you and a student doctor.”

You nodded. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it.”

You both fell into a tender yet awkward silence. There was so much but also nothing to say. It was actually Jack who tried to end the conversation.

“Well,” he stood. “I don’t wanna keep you from your new friends-.”

“-Would you wanna get breakfast sometime?”

It just fell from your mind and out of your mouth. You were hungrier than you thought and also wanted to spend time with him.

Despite working several shifts with Jack, and knowing him for years, you never saw him so surprised. Still, his face soon relaxed into one of mild glee.

“I’d love to, kiddo. How does tomorrow after my shift sound?”

Your eyes grew. “Really? You wouldn’t want to sleep in or something?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

You weren’t going to cry, you had decided. Your stepfather, and essentially everyone else who had comforted you that night, were making it incredibly difficult.

“Do you need a hug?” He asked upon seeing your face; and most likely your attempt at repressing tears.

You shook your head. “I’ll bawl my eyes out again, and I gotta be somewhere after this.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would I?”

“Well…” You placed your hand on his shoulder, attempting to still have physical affection without being overly vulnerable.

The awkward act, alongside a beat of silence, caused a fit of giggles to erupt between both of you. You must’ve laughed this hard with him at some point, but you couldn’t remember.

“I have therapy tomorrow at ten-thirty anyway.” He said, recovering.

“How’s it been?” You asked.

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded. “I’m really proud of you for going. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He shifted in his seat but smiled. “Honestly, with what you’d been studying, it helped convince me. It sounds like the bare minimum for everyone if they’re able to go.”

Smiling, you teased. “You’re doing great; you’re raising my standards for men.”

“That a fact?”

You hummed. “If you didn’t start going to therapy, I would’ve married the first military man who asked, even if I only met him three weeks ago.”

“Hell no,” he played along. “eight weeks, I told you that.”

“Would you have proposed to my mom that quickly if you met her before you were deployed?”

“I would’ve married your mother sooner because I loved her.”

“Did you think that while you were dating her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned forward, saying your name. “There are some people in this world who know in an instant who they want to spend the rest of their life with.”

You pursed your lips, thinking back to Robby, and everyone else you had ever dated in your life. “I don’t think I’m one of them.”

“And that’s okay.”

Sighing, you looked down at your watch and immediately stood with your belongings. “I should go. Hey…thanks for everything.”

Jack got up with you. “Don’t mention it. You got a ride?”

“Yeah, Santos. She’s driving my car.”

“Are you gonna sleep at the house tonight?”

“Uh huh.” You walked out of the breakroom, and he followed. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and we can get breakfast.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

You turned to face him in the hall as you approached the door to Chairs. “I’ll be fine. If anything bad happens, I’ll call Ellis because you don’t have your phone on you, and she can tell you. Okay?”

Jack sighed. “Just doing my job, kiddo. Have you figured out which shift you want to do?”

That was the question. You’d done a week’s worth of the night shift, and only one day shift. You enjoyed people on both, and had personal history with both of the attendings…

“I think the day mostly.” You said. “I can’t come back in tomorrow, but I will after that. I think I like the vibe more. But, I’d also like to do at least one night shift a month; maybe two.”

Independence, but also not ignoring your stepfather’s existence.

Jack smiled. “I think that sounds reasonable. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jack.”

You’d work your way up to ‘dad’, and even the casual ‘I love you’. Still, it was more than apparent both of you were wholeheartedly fine with where you were at. Progress, that was what was being done.

Finally, you made your way out to the front of the hospital, and there was Santos, leaning against a streetlamp. She smiled, approaching you.

“How’s your daddy?”

You snorted. “He’s doing fine. How was your shift?”

She began walking to the parking lot with you beside her. “Not bad. I mean, kinda boring until your roommate and her batshit insane boyfriend came.”

“Glad they could entertain you.”

“I don’t mean it like-.”

“-No, I know.” You eased. “Do you have Mel’s number?”

She took out her phone. “Yeah, why?”

“I had her take pictures of my injuries, and I have to send them to the police.”

Santos glanced up at you. “How’d it go talking with them?”

“Eh.” You shrugged.

She chuckled, showing you her phone with Mel’s number on the screen. You created a new contact in your phone, then texted Mel as you and Santos walked.

“Hey, it’s your fellow member of the ‘Dead Moms and Unknown Dads’ club.”

Just as you typed it, you deleted it. Apparently, you still had the mental power to overthink things.

“Hey it’s,” you typed your name. “Could you please send me the pictures you took so I can give them to the police?”

It was then you decided to send another message. One completely different.

“I still owe you dinner, or lunch if you prefer. If you have any questions about what Kimi said after I blew up at her, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m okay with talking about it. Just could you not bring it up to anyone else, please?”

You had a feeling she wouldn’t text back that night. Maybe she’d talk about it tomorrow, or maybe she never wanted to hear about it? Still, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“All good?” Santos asked.

You smiled, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Good.”

“If you ever need help with legal shit, I’ve kinda been around the block with it.” She reassured. “But I know you’re probably smart enough to handle it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, apparently you had parked in Kansas, your car was so far away. To fill the space, Santos said.

“Whitaker likes you.”

You looked over at her, a funny look on your face. You knew what she meant but tried to deflect. “Yeah, I like him too. He got decked in the face so I wouldn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I think he wants to ask you out.”

There it was. Even with all the shit that happened to you that day, there were good things. You reconnected with your stepfather, you somehow managed to have the most mature “breakup” with a guy twice your age, his ex-girlfriend took care of you despite knowing about all the shit you had done, and you made new friends for the first time in a while.

Still…it was all so much.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now.” You admitted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“No, of course.” She said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case if you weren’t feeling that way towards him, or if you were-.”

“-Trinity,” you stopped her, smiling. “I’m good.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Even with an abrupt ending, there was not a hint of discomfort. After finally finding your car, you thought it would’ve all been over when.

“Hey, doctor Robby.” Santos greeted.

You drew your head up at his name and saw him approaching the car beside yours. This whole time…he had parked beside you and hadn’t even known. He rose his brow as if he had the same thought process as you.

“Hey, how’re you two?” He asked.

She shrugged. “We’re just dying down for the night, you?”

“Same. I have a date with my bed.” He chuckled, then looked right at you. “Are you doing alright? I can only guess how many times you’ve been asked that.”

You smiled. “Several, but I’m doing better now.”

“That’s good. Are you okay to drive?”

Santos jumped in before you could answer. “Nah, I’m driving little miss Starshine.”

“Starshine?” He asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

You hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“How’d you get that from Dr. Santos’ extensive list of nicknames?” He questioned.

Santos took that as her cue. “She had too much caffeine one night shift, and both Whitaker and I were greeted by her.”

“It’s not that funny.” You rolled your eyes.

Robby disagreed. “I for one think it’s hilarious.”

Santos jumped in. “Please say you’re in tomorrow. I was gonna rely on her to be entertaining, but Kiara ordered her to stay home.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s my day off.”

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re gonna do something useful.”

“I was thinking of going to a coffee shop, maybe.”

“Where?” You asked, curiosity bettering you.

Robby pursed his lips. “I heard Big Dog is good. Ever been?”

You tilted your head, managing to hide how perplexed you were. “Yeah, a few times. It’s alright.”

“I might try that one.”

All you could do was smile, not knowing his intentions. It could have been bait for a reconnection, it could have been a way of saying goodbye to a fantasy, or it could have just been him making conversation.

You tossed the keys to Santos. “Let’s go before Target closes.”

She smirked, unlocking the door. “You think I drive slow?”

“Maybe.”

Robby stepped in. “Please don’t get either of yourselves killed.”

“Yes sir, Dr. Robinavitch sir.” Santos snorted, getting into the car. “Come on, Starshine.”

You gave Robby one last smile before ducking into the passenger seat. After buckling up, Santos plugged her phone into the aux chord.

“Don’t play trash.” she said, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

Snickering, you put on your favorite song. As Santos pulled out of the parking spot, you made eye contact with Robby. Not knowing what else to do, you waved to him.

He waved back.

While Santos drove, you couldn’t help but ponder the day. It was one of the worst, there was no doubt about that, and it ended with more questions than answers. Yet, where that would leave you in a deep storm of turmoil, you decided to weather it.

If all of that happened in a day, who’s to say what would happen in a year?

Maybe you’d still be in Pittsburgh, maybe you’d be in a different continent.

Maybe you’d still be single, maybe you’d be married.

Maybe you’d still be roommates with Kimi, maybe you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you’d still work the day shift, maybe you'd switch back to the night.

The best part?

You didn’t have to know right away.

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 19/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : none

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 19 :

The first light of morning spilled across the Parisian skyline, sliding through Ariana's lace-curtained window and pooling in soft gold on the floorboards. The city outside was just beginning to stir, but inside her apartment, everything was still. Quiet. Wrapped in warmth and white sheets.

Lando stirred first. He blinked against the light, his arm tightening around the warm body tucked beside him. Ariana. Still here. Still his.

She lay on her side, hair mussed from sleep, one hand curled under her cheek, the other loosely tangled with his. Her bare shoulder peeked out from the blanket, freckled with golden light. And there it was again, that feeling. The one that settled in his chest like gravity: heavy, whole, undeniable.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Then another. And another.

She sighed softly, barely awake. "You're being sappy."

"You're being irresistible," he murmured into her skin. "It's not my fault."

Her lips curved. She didn't open her eyes, but she rolled onto her back, tugging the blanket higher. Lando immediately followed, slotting himself against her side, arm draped over her waist.

"You know," he said, voice still rough with sleep, "if I had known getting you back meant waking up like this every morning, I would've grovelled sooner."

She laughed, breathy and warm. "You did plenty of grovelling."

"Not enough," he said, brushing her hair off her forehead. "Never enough for you."

She finally opened her eyes then. They met his.

It was different now, not tense or uncertain. The air between them was clear. Safe.

"I love you," he said, because now that he'd started saying it, he didn't want to stop.

"I know," she whispered. "I love you too."

He kissed her again, this time on the lips. Slow. Sure. She reached up and held his face in both hands, pulling him closer until they were laughing into the kiss.

"Okay," she said, breathless, "as romantic as this is, we need coffee."

"I'll make it," he offered, sitting up. "And breakfast."

She gave him a look. "You? In a kitchen?"

"I'll have you know," he said, slipping into his boxers and stumbling toward the door, "I'm perfectly capable of making toast."

"Toast isn't breakfast."

"Then I will expand my talents."

She heard him clatter around the kitchen for the next fifteen minutes, opening drawers, closing cupboards, muttering under his breath. The sound of something sizzling. Then a pan hitting the floor.

When she finally walked in, draped in one of his hoodies, hair in a messy bun, Aria at her heels, the kitchen looked like a battlefield.

Eggs half-scrambled. Coffee grounds on the counter. A smoking pan.

Lando stood in the center of it, sheepish, holding a wooden spoon.

"I made a mess."

She crossed her arms. "No kidding."

He tried to look innocent. "But I made coffee."

She took a sip from the mug he'd prepared. It was too strong, slightly bitter.

"This is terrible," she said with a grin.

"But it's made with love."

She laughed, but before she could move, Lando had already stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He buried his face in her neck, refusing to let go, even as she giggled and tried to turn.

"You're not going to let me go, are you?" she asked, half amused.

"Not a chance," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. "You're mine now. Everywhere you go, I go. Deal with it."

She reached back and squeezed his hand, smiling softly. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculously in love," he said, tightening his hold. And when she finally moved to the stove, he followed, fingers laced with hers, never more than a breath away.

"You're clingy in the morning," she mumbled.

"I'm clingy all the time now," he said. "Get used to it."

They ended up making breakfast together, real breakfast. French toast, bacon and eggs, cofee. Lando refused to let go of her hand the entire time unless absolute necessary.

When they finally sat at the small round table near the window, plates full, coffee steaming, he reached for her again.

"This," he said, eyes flicking over the simple scene. "This is what I want."

She tilted her head. "Breakfast?"

"No, you. Here. Us. Every morning."

Her smile dimmed just a little. "But you're not always here."

The air shifted.

He set his fork down. "I know."

"And I can't always be with you either," she said gently. "We live in two cities. Two different lives."

"I hate it," he admitted. "Every time I leave, it feels like I’m losing something again."

"You’re not," she said softly. "Not if we keep choosing this."

He looked at her for a long moment. Then, "Come to Monaco."

She blinked. "Lando—"

"Not permanently," he said quickly. "I know your life is here. Your work, your friends, your rhythm. I get it. But come see it. My place. Just a weekend. You'll love it. You’re from the South of France, it’ll feel like home."

She narrowed her eyes, smirking. "You’re trying to convince me to move in with you."

He grinned. "I wouldn't mind it. But no pressure. Just visit. And maybe… we find a place together eventually, well two places : one in Paris, one in Monaco. Like that everytime we see each other it will be in a place that’s ours."

Her smile softened, caught somewhere between amusement and affection. "You really want a place that has more ballet posters and ribbons than race throphies?"

"You have better taste than I do," he said. "And every time you're away, I want to be surrounded by pieces of you. So it still feels like home."

She reached across the table and took his hand. "Okay."

He blinked. "Yeah?"

"I��ll come. Just don’t expect me to like your ugly grey couch."

"It’s not ugly. It’s neutral."

"It’s sad."

He laughed and pulled her hand to his lips. "You’ll make it better. Like everything else. And Aria will love the Monaco sunshine. That cat is royalty, she deserves a sea view."

Under the soft Parisian morning light, wrapped in the comfort of love rediscovered, they ate their breakfast. They made plans. They laughed. And for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t look uncertain.

The sun was already warm by the time Ariana stepped out of the cab, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, Aria tucked in her travel carrier, and a weekend bag slung over her shoulder. Monaco shimmered in the late morning light, all soft blues and creams, the sea glittering in the distance like a promise. It was beautiful, too beautiful, she thought, for not staying here.

She hadn’t seen Lando in person since their time in Paris weeks ago. Since when they made those tentative, hopeful plans. Since when he asked her to come see his world.

And now she was here.

His place was tucked into the hillside, a sleek apartment with white stone walls, glass railings, and a view that made her stop on the steps.

She hadn't even rung the bell when the door swung open.

Lando stood barefoot in joggers and a white t-shirt, hair still damp from a shower, grinning like he'd been waiting at the door all morning.

"You're here," he said, his voice soft, full.

She smiled. "I said I would be."

He didn't move at first. Just looked at her like she was a dream that still exist in the morning.

Then he stepped forward, took her bag off her shoulder, and kissed her.

Not rushed. Not possessive.

Just a kiss that said: finally.

Aria meowed impatiently from the carrier.

Lando pulled back, chuckling and look at the cat pleading eyes. "Yes, yes, I see you too, princess."

He held the door wider. "Come in."

His apartment was clean, sleek, minimal. White walls, soft wood floors, high ceilings and wide windows that framed the ocean like a living painting. She walked in slowly, taking it all in.

And Aria padded cautiously out of the carrier, tail high and eyes curious. She sniffed the edge of the rug, jumped onto the low coffee table, and perched like a little queen surveying her kingdom.

Lando watched her, slightly tense. "Okay, be honest. She hates it?"

Ariana laughed. "She doesn't hate everything. She's just inspecting."

"I got her stuff," he said quickly, motioning toward a sunny corner where a soft little bed sat amoung bowls with gold rims, and a pile of cat toys, some still tagged. "I didn’t know what she liked best, so I got everything."

Ariana turned to him, eyes wide. "Lando…"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I may or may not have spent an hour on a cat forum figuring out which treats were vet-approved."

She stepped closer, touched his chest. "You’re a cat dad now. Officially."

He gave a dramatic sigh. "I was scared of them. Did you forget that?"

She smiled. "I remember. And now look at you."

He looked over at Aria, who had discovered the window seat and was now lounging in the sunlight.

"She’s terrifying," he whispered, like a confession.

Ariana giggled and kissed his cheek. "She likes you. That's rare."

"Still terrifying."

They spent the afternoon unwinding. She unpacked, finding little surprises he'd left for her, her favourite snacks in the pantry, a new pair of fuzzy socks folded neatly on the dresser, and a framed photo of them in Paris tucked discreetly near his bedside.

The apartment, though undeniably his, had hints of her now. And he clearly wanted more.

At one point, while she was brushing her hair in the bathroom, she noticed a stack of glossy decor magazines near the sink. Pages folded. Notes in the margins.

She returned to the living room with one in hand. "So… subtle."

Lando, pretending to be casual while feeding Aria a treat, said, "What? Those? Pure coincidence."

"Sure," she said, flopping onto the couch. "Just like the guest bedroom you never used until this weekend is suddenly repainted in pale rose and cream, my favorite colors."

He joined her on the cushions, pulling her into his side. "Well you know this room will be a perfect bedroom for a kid one day."

She looked up, her eyes wide open. "Lando !"

"No pressure," he said quickly. "Not to move in. Or anything else. Just… when you’re here, I want you to feel like you belong. Not like you’re staying in someone else’s space."

Her smile softened. "You’re really making it hard to say no."

He grinned. "Then don’t. Say you’ll help me decorate. Say you’ll come often. Say… we’ll look for something new together someday."

She kissed him once, slow and full of promise. "Someday."

He beamed.

That night, after a lazy dinner on the balcony, with Aria curled between them and the Monaco stars overhead, Lando laced his fingers with hers.

"Do you think it will be possible to live together here full-time one day?"

Ariana raised a brow. "Who? Me or the cat?"

He laughed. "Both. But mostly you."

"I love the sea air. And the balcony sun naps."

"And I’ll love waking up next to you every day."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "We’ll see."

He kissed her hair.

And in that small promise, soft, unspoken, but entirely real, Monaco didn’t just feel like home.

It felt like the beginning of something permanent.

The next morning, Ariana found Lando standing in the kitchen, pouring orange juice into two tall glasses with exaggerated concentration.

He turned around with a grin that was too smug for someone who had, just weeks ago, burned a pan trying to make eggs.

"Okay, don’t laugh, but I have plans."

She raised a sleepy brow from where she was curled up at the kitchen island, Aria nestled in her lap. "What kind of plans?"

"Social ones," he said, sliding the glass toward her. "With people."

She blinked. "You? Voluntarily organizing a social event?"

"It’s a surprise. Well, sort of. You’ll like it. Promise."

"Lando…"

He held up both hands, playfully defensive. "Okay, okay. Some friends are in town. People you know, actually. It’s just lunch. I thought it might be nice."

Something shifted in her expression. A mix of surprise, then warmth. "Who?"

He leaned against the counter, counting them off on his fingers. "Charles and Alexandra. Carlos and Rebecca. They’re all here for a few days."

Her breath caught. She hadn’t seen them since Brazil. Since the fight, the stress, the unraveling. Since the night she left.

"And they want to see me?"

He gave her a look. "Of course they do. They adore you. They’ve been asking about you for weeks."

Her smile was small but genuine, eyes soft. "It feels like it’s been forever."

"It has," he said. "And you don’t have to worry. They know. About us. About everything. They’re just excited to see you again."

She nodded slowly, fingers idly stroking Aria’s fur. Then glanced up. "Is it just them?"

His grin widened, and her suspicion grew.

"Lando..."

"Okay, okay," he laughed. "Also Max. And George. And Oscar."

Her eyes widened. "I don’t know them."

"You know of them," he said quickly. "And I talk about you all the time, so technically they already know you. But I want you to actually meet them."

Ariana tilted her head. "You’re introducing me to your grid family?"

He shrugged, trying to seem casual, but his eyes gave him away, soft, bright, a little nervous. "You’re important to me. They’re important to me. And I want everyone in the same place."

She smiled, a little crooked. "You’re being kind of adorable about this."

"That’s my thing now," he said. "Adorable and clingy."

She reached out and pulled him in by the front of his hoodie, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Then I guess I better find something to wear."

The restaurant was tucked into a quiet street not far from the harbor, all warm stone and ivy-covered walls, the entrance shaded by olive trees and soft hanging lanterns. The terrace overlooked the sea, private and glowing with early afternoon light. It was elegant, but not flashy, the kind of place chosen with care.

When they arrived, most of the group was already there, laughter spilling from the long table set under the open pergola. Wine glass clinked, sunglasses glinted, and when Charles looked up and saw them, he was on his feet in seconds.

"Well look who is here!" he called, voice bright with delight.

She barely had time to respond before Alexandra was wrapping her in a hug, Carlos following close behind with Rebecca’s hand in his. The greetings were warm and familiar, and suddenly, the weeks of distance melted away into easy conversation and laughter, the kind only shared between people who’d been through messy, beautiful things together.

Then came the introductions.

Lando kept an arm draped casually across her shoulders as he guided her to the rest of the table.

"Guys— this is Ariana."

Oscar gave her a polite nod, smile soft and genuine. "Nice to finally meet you. He talks about you constantly."

"He’s lying," Lando said quickly. "Moderately often. Not constantly."

"Constantly," George repeated with a teasing smirk. "Almost annoyingly so. But we’re thrilled to meet the mysterious ballerina."

Ariana smiled, a little shy. "It’s lovely to meet you all."

Max leaned in. "Right. Let’s get to the important part. Lando said you have a cat?"

Ariana blinked. "Uh... yes?"

He leaned forward, intense. "Can I see a picture?"

She exchanged a look with Lando, who was already laughing.

"Of course," she said, pulling out her phone. "Her name’s Aria."

She showed him a photo of the cat stretched luxuriously across a windowsill in the sun, her paw curled delicately under her chin.

Max gasped. "She’s majestic. Look at that coat. Look at that attitude."

Lando snorted into his drink. "Told you."

Max wasn’t listening. "Does she like string toys? Or is she more of a laser-pointer type? One of my cat, Jimmy, he hates lasers. Gets all existential about it."

Ariana bit back a laugh. "She likes anything she can knock off a surface."

"A classic cat move," Max said reverently. "You must send me more photos."

"You just met her," Lando muttered.

"And I already like her." Max replied solemnly.

The lunch was easy, fun, filled with stories and teasing. Alexandra pulled Ariana to sit beside her, linking their arms like they hadn’t been apart at all. Rebecca kept passing Ariana dishes with quiet care, like an older sister making sure she ate. Carlos and Charles cracked jokes the entire meal, trying to outdo each other in accents and outrageous retellings of team chaos. George added biting commentary at just the right moments, his wit dry and perfectly timed, while Oscar kept the balance with calm, steady kindness.

And through it all, Lando stayed close, hand on her knee under the table, smile soft, eyes full every time she laughed.

"You're quiet," she said to him between courses, leaning in.

"I'm happy," he said simply. "And I like watching you like this."

She nudged his shoulder. "Clingy and soft. What happened to the cocky guy from the paddock?"

"He met someone who made him want to grow up a little."

She smiled. "I like him better like this."

He grinned, eyes crinkling. "Good. Because he’s head over heels."

By the time dessert came, little lemon tarts with cream, Max was still talking about the cat.

"Look, all I’m saying is, if she ever needs a summer home while you go on holidays—"

"She’s not going on a yacht with you, Max," Lando said, trying not to laugh.

"You’re jealous of my bond." Max replied.

"Deservedly so," Ariana said.

Lando threw his hands up. "I brought her back into my life and now even my cat’s been stolen."

"You didn’t stand a chance," Rebecca said with a smirk.

They stayed until the sun dipped lower on the horizon, the light golden and soft. When they finally said goodbye, there were hugs all around, promises to do it again soon, and Alexandra whispered in Ariana’s ear, "You two look really happy. I’m glad."

Lando wrapped an arm around her as they walked down the narrow street toward the car, fingers interlaced, easy and warm.

"That went well," he said, a little surprised.

"It did," she agreed.

"And Max is definitely going to send Aria gifts, isn’t he?"

"I expect nothing less," Ariana said with a grin.

He looked over at her, the last raw of sunlight catching in her hair, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.

Just smiled like he couldn’t believe she was really here.

"Hey," she said softly, looking up at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he murmured, kissing her. "Just… really happy."

"Yeah," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "Me too."

And under the soft Monaco sky, full from good food and full hearts, they walked home, together.

My dm are still open for future stories request :)

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[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // signifying nothing (prequel)

summary: before everything, there came the reaping.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

close enough WELCOME BACK COLD NIGHTS I MISSED YOU!! :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Don't worry, bug. Your year won't ever come."

In the peaceful quiet of your bedroom, cicadas buzzing outside your window, you lay curled up under the quilts with your brother hoping they can coat him like a shield of armour. Impenetrable. Warm. Safe.

You only had two years left, this and the next, before you would be safe from the reaping. Lennox had four.

He wouldn't ever dare to show it outside of the safety of this room under the cloak of night, but he was terrified. And you were as well, knowing you couldn't save him if it was his year.

"I feel it. I feel it, something bad is going to happen. I'm going to- they're going to call me." He was crying as he spoke, his voice, only recently broken, shaking you down to your core.

You offer him a sympathetic smile in the dim light, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face. "Remember last year? We had this exact same conversation. And the year before that, and the year before that, too. They're yet to call your name, and they won't. Not ever, bug."

You knew it had the potential to be an empty promise. That you very well could find yourself in the crowd of other kids tomorrow morning and hear your little brother's name echoed over the speakers- a summoning to death, but the odds of that actually happening were slim. One in close to three hundred other boys in the District aged between 12 and 18. He would be okay, you were certain.

When you're only met with sniffles in response, you pull the quilt up over your heads, pressing your forehead against his. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow," You whisper, and Lennox stops his sniffling.

"Don't give me a monologue right now." He grumbles, and it pulls a slight smile to your lips. You continue anyway.

"Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!"

You can see he's smiling too, even just a little bit as your eyes adjust to the dark.

"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale..." You pause, and he sighs.

"Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." He whispers along with you.

You let the silence swallow you both for a moment, looking at the redness in his cheeks and eyes from tears of fear. "It's signifying nothing, Lennox." You whisper again. "You will be okay."

Come the morning, his tears have dried and he puts a brave face on for your parents. You eat breakfast before the sun rises, before your father has to leave for work in the mines, and Lennox laughs and jokes with them as if he's never been less afraid in his life.

Your mother always has this look in her eye on reaping day. Her eyes are red-rimmed, puffy around the edges much like your brothers. You think that on this morning every year, they never look more alike. She's quieter as she makes something special, wheat toast with crushed berries and boiled sugar on top. Even a few chocolate shavings, if the year can spare it. This year, you can.

But then your father has to go, and you can see the hesitation in his look before he even moves to get up from the table dimly lit by a few lanterns so early in the morning. He chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at his empty plate. He doesn't want to look at you. You know that, but you sit next to him at his spot at the head of the table, wishing he would.

"I should probably get-to-steppin'." He says, just like every normal morning when one of you happens to be up early enough to hear it. It's missing the cheerful note it usually carries, though.

Your mother nods, and both you and Lennox stand as your chairs push back simultaneously.

Your brother goes first, stepping around the edge of the dining table and shoving himself into your father's arms without a word. The air in your house feels multitudes thicker as you watch them.

"Be good for your mother," Your dad whispers, unable to help getting choked up already. He's holding the back of Lennox's sleep shirt so tight you know he's truly afraid he'll be ripped from his arms at any moment. "I love you so much. I love you more than anything. My baby boy..."

The nickname is reserved for days like today, of which there are very few. Your brother is fifteen now, and should be turning sixteen in just over a month. But on days like today, he's still just a baby.

Eventually, with a pat on his back, your father lets him go and Lennox knows he has to do the same even if neither of them want to.

His spot in your father's arms expands and shifts into your own, and before you're even aware of your feet carrying you those short three steps, your face is buried in his shoulder and his calloused hands are in your hair and on your back.

"Be good for your mother," He echoes the same sentiment to you, but his voice cracks. "My beautiful girl, I love you. I love you so much."

And into your hair, he whispers: "Be great in act, as you have been in thought."

You got your penchant for reading from your father. Most of your books, as well. You don't know where his family had acquired such a collection of by now ancient texts, but you were endlessly grateful. And together, he was determined that you both would read every last one. With the loss of a more than a few nights of sleep, that is.

"I'll see you tonight." You whisper back, a quiet reassurance that neither of you can fully, wholeheartedly accept. He nods anyway. "I love you, pa."

"I love you too," He replies, because saying it only twice wasn't enough. "Think about what you want to read tonight, and we'll all head out to the meadow, yeah? You and ma make some of those cookies I love, I'll be expecting them when I get home tonight."

"They'll be ready." You promise him, trying not to let the possibility that this is your last ever conversation choke you. Like last year and the year before, you were confident you would see him tonight. Both of you would, and to act as if you wouldn't, to say any kind of real goodbye would only result in the worst. But still, you couldn't take it. Maybe Lennox had gotten in your head last night, saying he felt like something would happen.

As your father pats your back in signal that he's going to let you go, you only hug him tighter. "I love you." You say again, but you both know it means something else this time.

The narrow, unpaved road and outskirts of the town are deathly quiet when the sun rose, and remained that way even close to noon as you held your mother's hand and walked down to the city centre. Lennox drags his feet a few paces ahead of you, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he kicks along the same rock he had been since you left the house.

Tybalt, bless his little heart, has decided to join you as well. You'd made it out the door, sans saying goodbye to him in manifestation that you would be back in the afternoon, before he jumped out the window of your bedroom and followed you out to the street. With a huff, your mother returned inside to grab his makeshift leash to be able to at least keep him close during the reaping if he wouldn't allow her to hold him.

You wanted to hold him, of course, but God forbid your name is pulled and then you would just have to hand him to Lucy Gray and say goodbye. You knew he would be fine if that was the case, but the odds of you being strong enough to let him go in a moment like that were slim to none.

Walking into the square and up at the stage ahead, grey and brown and dreary, you linger by the surrounding buildings for a moment.

"We should wait for the Covey." You suggest quietly, wrapping your arm around your mother's.

"Good idea, sweetheart." She agrees, entirely unwilling to let either of you go yet either.

But that excuse didn't last forever, and they came running into the square just as peacekeepers came rounding up the stragglers, forcing kids out of the arms of their parents and into mildly organized rows. Girls on one side, boys on the other.

Starting with the little ones, your mother hugs each of them and whispers something to them. A brief "I love you", if you had to guess, or some assurance that they would be okay. That it wouldn't be their year. When she gets to Lucy Gray, your friend grabs you by your hand and pulls you in to share in it.

"Oh, I love you, my girls... We'll see you both after. Dinner at ours tonight, Lucy Gray, we wanna hear that new song you've been-"

Her attempts to calm you both with normalcy is cut short by a peacekeeper grabbing the back of your dress and yanking you off them, nudging a gun into your shoulder. "Line up."

Lucy Gray was getting much of the same treatment, but she was able to grab your hand once they released the back of her corset. It was a beautiful dress, her mother's that she wore every year just like you wore yours every year. Hers was much nicer, that if she were to get picked it would scream to the world that she is not erasable. You'd commented on it years ago, the first time she'd been eligible and had to join you in the lineup, with the rainbow ruffles getting caught under her boots from it being too big for her. She'd offered to share it with you, to trim the bottom and make that into a shawl or a skirt or a scarf for you to wear so you could match and so she wouldn't step on it anymore. You said no, though. You knew she'd grow into it, and you liked the one your mother had stitched for you anyway.

You look for your brother in the crowd as you make your way with the Covey girls over to the rows and rows of other young kids.

Somewhere in the middle, you end up in the row behind Lennox, though he's obviously on the other side. You can see him, which comes as a comfort. He can't see you, though, unless he turns his head. Which he does.

You meet his eyes and give him a small nod, and little CC next to him looks over as well. You give him a subtle wave and what you hope is a reassuring smile, blowing him a kiss which he pretends to catch. You pat your pocket, nodding for him to "save it for later", and he grins. What little you could do to make the little ones feel better was extended eagerly and at every opportunity.

Lucy Gray's hand is shaking in yours, and she leans in closer as the Mayor starts speaking, ignoring him completely. "Billy Taupe is upset with me." She whispers, and you'd welcome the familiarity of her boy troubles happily as a distraction.

"Why?" You ask quietly.

"Jessup Diggs." Apparently they were cutting right to the chase today. You knew him, sort of. You weren't close, but you often helped your ma fix up clothes for his family, or she stopped to chat with them in the market on days where you weren't in a rush. He's a lovely young man. It's heartbreaking.

But it isn't any of your boys. You spare Lennox a weak smile and a nod just after Jessup is escorted down the middle between you.

Lucy Gray continues, though, rushed now to get her words out. "He's cheatin' on me again, with Mayfair." Your eyes widen and your jaw locks as you find the mayors daughter in the crowd. "I gave him hell for it and he said we're done."

"Oh, hon-" You want to try and comfort her, but you don't get the chance.

"I'm scared they're gonna call me. That she told her pa, and-"

She stops dead in her tracks when your your name echoes through the square instead.

Your eyes snap up to the stage again, feeling oddly calm considering you're certain you'd just been handed a death sentence.

Still, you smile, eyes getting watery. You can feel the eyes of everyone on you- not that it was a concern of yours, but the gaze of Maude Ivory and Clerk Carmine and Lennox felt particularly heavy. Lennox's relief had been so short lived.

Lucy Gray whispers your name, sounding horrified. You can't look at her, but you know the expression on her face. Similar to yours, minus the smile. Hurt, angry- you're sure. "Give 'em a show. Don't go down quiet." She whispers, and you can hear the crack in her voice. The last words your best friend would ever share with you.

Heart pounding you nod a little, pushing your shoulders back as you drop her hand and walk down to the middle aisle, cameras tracking your every step. For as long as you've been eligible for the reaping, that had been exactly your plan. To get into the arena and lay down and take whatever would come to be your end. You couldn't fight, you couldn't hurt anyone. It was all wrong, anyway. Even if you could, you didn't stand a chance. She must have known that, though.

You'd always said that when you were younger, since the games were established almost in myth, and every year older kids would disappear to the Capitol and never return. 

"I'd take one of them guns the 'keepers got, and I'd win in a minute!" Lennox said, holding a broken stick to his shoulder like a weapon, squinting as he pretended to look down the sights.

You eyed him with suspicion, remembering what ma always said. "Boys will be boys," But your baby brother always seemed so separate from that when it came to violence.

"No you wouldn't." You giggled, shaking your head as he turned the stick gun on you and little Lucy Gray.

"Yes I would! Bang, bang! The first victor of District Twelve! We'll have a party!"

Your parents, guiding you down the wooded path to the lake with the Covey kids in tow, didn't like this joke. "Len, don't point guns at anyone."

"It's just a stick, pa!" He groaned.

"Never point a weapon of any kind at anyone." Your father stuck to his point, grabbing the stick from your brother's grip. "It's never a joke. You wouldn't be laughing if they called your sisters name in a few years, so don't laugh now."

Your father was right, Lennox most certainly wasn't laughing now. Somewhere you hear a sob, and you know it's your ma. Peacekeepers block either of your sides so you can't run, and the march to the stage feels like it goes on forever. A tear falls down your cheek, but you don't wipe it away.

"Thank you." You nod to the peacekeepers when they come to a stop with you at the bottom of the steps, but you have to continue. You have to.

You never had much experience with crowds, not the way Lucy Gray and the Covey kids did. They could command a space, change the energy in any room at the drop of a dime. Finally you can spare a glance at your mother, who's clutching Tybalt close to her chest and crying into his fur. It's deathly quiet. With a brief scan of the crowd, you can see tears on Lennox's cheeks that match your own, but his face is stone cold. You look at Lucy Gray, Barb Azure, and Maude Ivory. It was a jarring difference, seeing them from on stage. Lucy Gray nods at you, now holding her little cousin close to her side. Lifting one hand she taps the bottom of her chin.

"Head up, shoulders back. It takes confidence to hold a crowd, but even more to get your ass up on stage in the first place!"

Her voice from when you were just kids rings in your ears. The day you'd told her you could never do what they do, and she'd insisted they'd adopt you and you'd learn it like second nature soon enough.

You'd never quite gotten the knack for performing, though.

"May I?"

"Please," as the mayor nods and gestures to the mic, stepping out of the way to give you a minute.

You're not sure how to feel, what to say- but you couldn't disappoint Lucy Gray and the others, you couldn't let your brother go without hearing your voice one more time.

"Hello," You settle on, your voice calmer and smoother than you expected. "Thank you all, for being the village that raised us."

With a glance back at Jessup who just looks shocked, you hope he's okay with you speaking on his behalf.

"There's nowhere in the world with kinder people and kinder souls." You continue, wiping away a tear when it tickles your jaw. "My friends of noble touch; when I am forth, Bid me farewell, and smile."

"Don't be sad," you want to tell your loved ones, or everyone. This was the only way you knew how to say it, with so many eyes and cameras on you. Frozen were your own words, left to rely on the comfort of your beloved books. You know they understand, anyway.

The clock is ticking, and goodbyes cannot be forever. "I must go in, the fog is rising." You say in finality, and a fresh set of peacekeepers flank you again to guide you and Jessup back away from the stage, away from everything you'd ever known and loved.

This would be the beginning of your final act.

You couldn't bring yourself to look back, and you wished that you had when you're corralled into the dark and cold train car. For a while, you and Jessup travel in silence- the train wheels rattling beneath you as it drew you further and further from your family.

Even still, you sat side by side, shoulders bumping often with the sway of the car.

"I'm sorry." He whispers into the dark after what must have been hours, and the words sound more like a breath than a tangible statement.

Looking over at him in the dark your eyes have adjusted to, you give him a small smile. "Don't be." You whisper back, shaking your head. "The way I see it, I'm lucky today."

Jessup cocks his head to the side slightly. "How do you figure that?"

"It could have been my brother, or any of my sisters." You explain with a slight shrug, and though he knows you aren't related to the Covey, he knows what you meant.

"I guess..." He agrees hesitantly, scrubbing his hand at the back of his neck. "I mean, I wouldn't want it to be my siblings either, but that doesn't mean our cards are fair. It shouldn't have been any of us."

"It shouldn't be anyone." You nod. "But there's some... peace, I suppose, to be found in going off today knowing that all those kids are safe another year, at least. They all get one more birthday, one more Christmas... feels kind of worth it. Like we've done good, by giving ours up."

"Let's just get this over with." He grumbles as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, as gentle in touch as you knew he was in soul. Even yet to meet the other tributes, you hope that Jessup makes it home to his family.

You hear shouting as you blink your eyes open, head resting against Jessup's warm shoulder in the previously droning train car. You must be stopping. Sure enough, the train jerks as it stops and you're rocked onto your side, even sitting down. A rude awakening, to be in the Capitol.

"Everybody out!" A voice bellows, followed by banging on the outside of the doors. You're shivering as you stand, brushing off the back of your dress as Jessup holds your arm to steady you. It had been a long journey, and a while since you'd stood up to stretch your legs. You tried to sleep most of the journey, to eliminate the possibility of overthinking as much as possible. You didn't want to cry anymore- it wouldn't change the past, and you wouldn't want to change it anyway. Bid me farewell, and smile. You think to yourself as the doors slide open, and Jessup hops out first before peacekeepers would get the chance to jump in and drag the two of you out by your collars.

He extends his hands out to you to lift you out, but with that smile you shake your head and sit down on the edge of the train car before making the small jump down to the paved ground of the station. Patting Jessup's shoulder you quietly thank him, looking around and taking in your new surroundings. It didn't look too terribly different from the station at home, which surprised you. The Capitol, in all its superiority, was a myth at best back home. No one knew what to expect, really, no one ever returned to tell the tale. In your own mind, it would have looked more like a Shakespeare play- the opulence and royalty of castle walls, but so far, all you could see is concrete and military uniforms.

Except for the flash of red that appears before you in an instant, attached to the body of a boy. Blonde hair that's curly like Len's when he hasn't cut it, kind blue eyes, a determined step, and a white rose extended in your direction.

"Hello." He says, clearing his throat. You smile wider.

"Hi there."

For the rose, though its petals be torn asunder, still smiles on.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

bringing back the old taglist for the continuation of this fic, but if you want to be notified when i post new parts to my other fics or oneshots or whatever follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on post notifications! (i only post/reblog my own writing so you won't be spammed, i promise!)

[daylighted]

Heyy could u do another part of baby!reader but maybe having dean telling Sam who she is

oh don't mind if i do ! baby!reader is quickly becoming so famous to me in my head she's lovely n i'm so glad u guys adore her too <3 prequel to this & sequel to this!!

it'd been a bit awkward, having to explain why he'd had to walk miles upon miles to get back to the motel where sam was waiting. why he'd brought a literally naked you along with him, who he'd very humbly given his jeans to so you didn't get a chill. or kidnapped. carnapped?

whatever. dean still didn't know, exactly, what to do.

sam was outside of the motel room, probably having gone out to keep an eye out for dean's arrival. he was a worrier like that, and dean didn't tend to make it very easy for him when he left for an easy witch hunt and didn't come back for nearly an hour and a half.

"where's baby?" he asks when dean is close enough, damn near winded because of the nonstop walking, and because you hadn't really offered up your watered down diner coca-cola to him. after all he'd done for you, too? his jeans?

dean opens his mouth to answer, and instead, your voice perks up. "i'm here!"

sam blinks, and then blinks thrice more times, like he'd only just processed the sight in front of him. dean, pantsless. you, shirtless, in his big jeans that he'd heard jangling every two seconds when you yanked them up.

his mouth closes. opens. closes. dean grimaces. "helluva night it's been, sammy."

"who's this?"

you are a spitfire of a thing. dean always knew it. you always seemed to talk back to him when he kept driving past the low fuel ding, as he so often did on the infinite miles he'd racked up on you. sounds weird now, thinking about all these little details about you, when none of it applied anymore. car logic was not equivalent to human anatomy.

so he barely flinches, especially after the last two hours with you, when you say, "i'm baby." you fish around in the leather pockets of the jacket you'd gotten in your... tune up? dean didn't fucking know. you pull out wads and wads of straw wrappers that he'd tried to tuck away in the glovebox, keeping his mess to, visibly, a minimum. "look. dean's mess."

"hey." dean swats your hand lightly, snatching a stray dollar bill that fell out with the crumpled straw wrappers. "no littering."

sammy puts his hands up, as if he could physically pause this. "you're baby."

"i'm baby!" you sound ecstatic now, even though you look so damn exhausted. maybe a nap would equate to an oil change. dean really, seriously, could not keep thinking on this tonight. he was damn exhausted too.

sam scoffs out a little laugh, the dimples poking into his cheeks. "no way."

"witch said, 'would you still love your car so much if she was a girl', turned her to ash, came back out of the woods ready to get the hell out of dodge, and..." dean trails off, gesturing to you, gnawing on the straw of his drink. "here was baby."

sam's face must look exactly like dean's did, when you'd ran right up to him. dean couldn't have imagined himself looking anything less than utterly, completely, baffled. "this is a development."

"yeah."

you start to walk past sam, striding up to the motel room door like you already knew which it was, and maybe you did. dean didn't know at all what abilities came with going from a car to a girl.

you turn so quickly that the edges of your jacket splay open, and dean has never averted his gaze so quick. must have been genetic, because sam, too, was suddenly very interested in the starless sky and the three leaves left hanging onto the winter branches of the scattered trees.

"someone let me in." you bang on the door with your fist, already staring expectantly at dean when he deems it safe to look back down at you. "we're locked out."

sam's smile is somehow more grimace than dean's. "i've got a key."

"so use it." you're gnawing on that straw again. dean has got to get a fucking grip and stop watching your mouth.

"you're a mouthy little thing, baby," dean grumbles, moving past sam to fumble around for his own key. "weren't half as mouthy when you were a car and did whatever i'd say."

the door pushes open, revealing a dingy motel room with two beds. two. and a little armchair propped in the corner like a joke.

"i'd still do whatever you say." it catches dean off guard, somewhat, because he's spent long enough with you, one-on-one, to know that you were stiffly incapable of lying. you were helpless to anything but to tell the facts.

you drop down onto one of the beds, sprawled out across the mattress like you own it, and dean knows without even needing to ask that he's going to end up in that armchair. because he sure as hell cannot sleep next to you, when you were pretty, and he couldn't stop looking at your mouth, and would do whatever the hell he said, somehow, you were his car.

sam pats him on the shoulder. "when's this changing back?" he asks, low enough that you can't hear him over the sound of you bouncing on the bed, now.

dean sighs, nose bridge pinched between his two fingers. "not soon enough. if ever."

his nod is slow, and far too amused for dean to handle, right then, so he steps around him to make himself at home in the armchair, his bed for, probably, the next eternity, when it came to motel rooms. sunglasses over his eyes and everything.

"what are you doing?"

dean pushes the glasses up. "goin' to bed."

sam has made himself comfortable without question in the other bed. bastard.

"that's stupid. you can sleep with me. you always used to fall asleep in me." you sound so damn sweet when you say it that dean resists the laugh. barely, but it counts.

it isn't until sam starts cackling that dean breaks. he looks over at you, the little confused sheepishness on your face so damn endearing, and he forces the laughter back down, in its place an equally gentle smile.

"okay, baby," he says, silently glad that you'd offered, crediting it all to the fact that the chair was uncomfortable as hell, and not to the fact that he'd secretly been hoping for the invitation, "but don't expect any damn cuddling or something."

[galedekarios]

gale’s early access dialogue transcripts - the tiefling party [romance path]

at the tiefling party in early access, you were able to lock in your romance choice for the first time.

a second time, you were able to do so while traversing the ebonlake to the grymforge. the narrator gave a general overview of your deeds so far (including rescuing the tieflings/siding with the goblings, etc.) and ended on your li choice.

i'll include the screenshot of that moment here bc there's not much worth talking about romance-wise past that point:

Narrator: *It hasn't all been bad, though: you fondly remember your night with Gale.*

back to the tiefling party: you were able to talk to the companions at the party after zevlor, the tieflings and your group arrived at the camp, and they all propositioned the player to spend the night with them, some more subtly than others, depending on who you talked to first and accepted.

the romance option for the night was then locked in if the player took a long rest and, from the dialogue options, picked their partner of choice.

for gale, the proposition to the player looked as follows:

Gale: Thank you. - Player Option 1: I'm sure you're welcome. Gale: There's that confidence I like. [Go to "Amidst all the merriness...] - Player Option 2: What for? Gale: I'm glad you sought me out. [Go to "Amidst all the merriness...] - Player Option 3: Spontaneous thank yous make me suspicious. Gale: Come now! This is a night for celebration, not suspicion. I thank you for seeking me out. - Gale: Amid all this merriment I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to speak this evening. I wasn't sure we'd have a chance to make merry, just the two of us.  - Player Option 1: I think that's the wine talking.  Gale: As they say in Waterdeep: In wine there is truth. That's usually followed by: In water, there is good sense. Good sense will have to wait till the morrow. - Player Option 2:  Make merry, just the two of us. What would that entail? Gale [if Weave scene successful + talked abt the Weave scene with Gale after]: We shared a romantic moment of the mind while cloaked in the Weave, didn't we? And I seem to recall a fond allusion to that moment afterwards. - Player Option 3: Actually, I think I'll go mix and mingle.  Gale: Too bad. One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.  But before you go... I know there are many things about me that remain shrouded in mystery. [Gale would then invite the player to talk again the next day & reveal his background story + the convo ends] - Gale [if the player is interested]: Allow me to make the following proposition: there is a book that circulates in Amn, detailing the first thousand nights of a newly-wed king and queen. Gale: They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste, time honoured and newly acquired. The art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. The art of the night itself. I say we take a page from their book.  - Player Option 1: Leave it to you to woo someone with a book. Gale: Forget the book then. Let's be blank slates on blank sheets, delightfully new. - Player Option 2: You're remarkably upfront about your intentions.  Gale: I'm many things, but coy's not one of them. What do you say? - Player Option 3: I'll remind you we're newly acquainted, not newlyweds. Gale: Then we'll start writing the prequel. What do you say? - Player Option 4: Let me stop you right there. That's not something I'm interested in. Gale: Too bad. One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.  - [if the player accepts] Gale: We'll let the night run its course. And when everything is quieting down, safe in the arms of sleep, I'll come by to find safety in yours. [end]

if you clicked on gale again before long resting, he said:

Gale: There's promise in patience, I assure you. Let the night run its course so that we can run ours as well. [CAMP_GoblinHunt_State_GalePartner]

if you then talked to any of the other companions, who were much more reactive to your choices and what happened around them in general, they had something to say about the player's decision to spend the night gale:

shadowheart

Shadowheart: Everyone seem to be in high spirits. I saw you with Gale. You two looked... cosy. Far be it from me to judge. Blood must be running a little hot after everything.

wyll

Wyll: There he is - the man himself! Let us raise a glass! To you - a legend in the making! And to you and Gale. May your stars burn ever bright.

lae'zel

Lae'zel: I have seen the kith'raki tear a screaming neogi's legs from its belly to fashion into blades. Yet they could not match your nerve today. It was enough to drive me to madness. A pity for us you have promised your body to Gale. I've no doubt he is as seductive as he is succinct.

funnily enough, if both weren't romanced by the player character, lae'zel would try to sleep with gale at the party. he - unlike wyll and astarion, both of whom used to accept lae's advances - did not do so.

lae'zel used to complain about this the next day if the player questioned her about her night with gale, saying he only wished instead to talk:

Lae'zel: There are, after all, other spreads before me. Gale looks particularly tempting tonight. [GALECOMPANION, CAMP_GoblinHunt_State_WyllPartner]

follow-up the next day:

Player: You said you were going to share your bunk with Gale. Lae'zel: So I did. And he wanted only to talk.

astarion

Astarion: By the Hells. Passion. Fun. It's easy for some, of course. You and Gale seem to be getting on very well. I wonder if he uses magic in the bedroom? That could go very well... or very badly.

the pictures here are all from an old gifset of mine.

there is no option for karlach in early access because she, at that point, wasn't a companion, but an npc to a much different set-up with anders the paladin of tyr and his companions.

if you clicked on the bedrolls around the camp fire to select the long rest, the narrator used to say the following:

Narrator: *The buzz of celebration quiets to a soothing hum as you approach your bunk.* *Though you seek repose, you needn't spend the night alone. With whom will you share a bed?* Player: Gale. Narrator: *Your heart skips a beat. What treasures might this night bestow?*

it used to then lead into the actual romance scene of early access.

i'll be talking about in the next ea meta post because it's a longer one as it encapsulates the romance scene itself, but also gale's confession about his backstory, karsus's folly, mystra's and gale's relationship, as well as possible ways to cure gale of his orb.

🖤

[murkycran]

Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

------

Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.

Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.

Let's Misbehave by joosymango

Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?

Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^

Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?

Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?

[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]

Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!

You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.

Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.

Sequel to Safe with Me.

Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...

You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.

Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola

After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.

Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!

Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x

Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.

During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.

Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...

But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?

Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.

Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳

Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.

Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D

Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.

Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.

Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.

Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.

Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.

Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.

Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming

Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.

Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.

Static by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester

Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up

Notes: Very good PWP.

Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts

Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳

Observer by DeviousPossum

Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.

Alastor.

Alastor.

What the fuck. Alastor is singing.

Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.

Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3

RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar

Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.

Sharkblocking by Anonymous

Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.

In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.

Notes: VARK!

Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms

Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.

So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.

... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.

Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀

gift of the magi by vol_ctrl

Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."

Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^

the lost tape by vol_ctrl

Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl

Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.

Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl

Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...

[Stand-alone staticradio]

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD

Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest

Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.

Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.

Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.

Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.

Russian Roulette by spappest

Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.

Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest

Summary: Alastor goes into rut.

Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.

Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.

A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.

Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3

Negotiations by FanGirl48

Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.

But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.

Damnit Valentino!

Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.

Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.

Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.

Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.

Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.

What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344

Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.

When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.

Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^

Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.

Notes: So, so good.

Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.

Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…

Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^

To Be Yours by pinegreenapples

Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.

Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;

oleanders in june by spoondrifts

Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.

If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.

Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.

Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.

equilibrium by curtailed

Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.

Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.

Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.

candlelight by curtailed

Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?

OR

Alastor and Vox play house.

Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol

wallow by curtailed

Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.

Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.

Addicted by Dancingdog

Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.

But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.

His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.

Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.

Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell

Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.

Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.

Uneasy by Saezs

Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”

Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.

Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.

Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)

Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander

Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”

The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.

A voice for radio.

Oh shit.

... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.

From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?

Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃

Days Long Past by Momo52

Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.

While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.

Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.

Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)

Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.

or, alternatively...

The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.

Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol

Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin

Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.

Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".

Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow

Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.

So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.

Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;

Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”

“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”

“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”

OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.

Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss

Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.

But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.

Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.

Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.

surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.

Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.

an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”

“What, so you mean he just up and left?”

“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”

“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.

Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^

we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.

Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.

Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.

What Has Been by Tianren

Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?

Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s

Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.

Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[garricks4thwingqueen]

Master list

If you have a request for any character on my masterlist please feel free to send it on in. If they are not on my masterlist but their fandom is (Fourth Wing, ACOTAR and Bridgerton) please send it along anyway and I'll let you know if I feel comfortable to write for their personality.

Fourth Wing Garrick Tavis

*Your Boys part of the #fourthwingbirthdaybash

*Am Smooches

*Rebellious Secrets (This was a request!)

*I'm Going to be a Father?

*I'm Going to be a Father? Part 2

*The Gauntlet Reader X Garrick Tavis (this was a request)

*Garrick Au Swim Coach X Reader

*After all This Time (This was a request)

*After all this Time (part 2 )

*Sibling Love is Tough (Request)

*You are my Light Garrick X Telery Reader (request)

*Experimenting with Garrick (request)

*Promise? (Request)

*This is Never Happening Again (Request)

*Wishing of a Solstice With You

*Special Valentines Day

*Comfort & Caring (request)

*Midnight Sneak Outs (request)

*Midnight Sneak Outs Part 2 (Request)

Why Now? Mairi Reader X Garrick Tavis

*Part 1

*Journal Entry

*Part 2

*Part 3

*Part 4

*Part 5

*Professor Tavis College AU OC Sophia Riorson

*Prequel (Part of Garrick week 2025 Focused Prompt)

*Part 1

*Part 2

*Part 3

*Part 4

*Part 5

*Part 6

My Little One (I'll do anything for you) Garrick Tavis X OC)

*Part 1

*Part 2

*Part 3

*Part 4

*Little one Final update, sorry :( Garrick Week 2025

Focused Professor Tavis Prequel

Gentle Giant Head Cannons

Distance Why Now final Installment

Dain Aetos

*My New Pillow part of the #fourthwingbirthdaybash *My new Pillow Part 2

*You're My Sunshine (request)

*Corn Maze

*Sibling Love is Tough (Request)

*Happy New Year With You

*Cravings and Pregnancy

*Comfort (request)

Xaden Riorson

*The Day of Dread part of the #fourthwingbirthdaybash * Power X velocity= Air and Wing Speed (request)

*Our Time (part of the rider's quadrant gift exchange on a03)

*Our Time part 2 (Request)

*You're What?

*Because Of You NSFW (Request)

*Can I hold You? (Request)

*Promise Me (Request).

*Love Confessions & Venin (Request)

*A Special Gift For Xaddy (NSFW) (Request)

Liam Miari

*Your Boys Part of the #fourthwingbirthdaybash

*Sibling Love (Request)

*Mated Dragons (Request)

*I'll Always be here for You (Request)

*Be My Valentine

*I'll Be There For You

* Always Yours *part 1 Raelynn's Letter to Liam * Part 2 *Part 3 *Part 4 *Part 5 *Part 6 * Part 7 * Part 8 *Part 9 *Part 10 *Part 11 & Finale

Week Liam 2025

Our little ball of honor

Protective Jealously

Gone but forever in your heart

Your favorite hands to feel

Baby your my number one

Being Liam's twin brother head cannons

Road trip of your worst nightmares??

Bodhi Durran

*Safe (X Tavis younger sister reader request)

*Does it Have to be Lucifer?

*Solstice with Bodhi

*By Your Side (Bodhi week 2025)

Ridoc Gamlyn

*Missing You

Imogen Cardullo

*Imogen's Intimacy Alphabet Fourth wing Head Cannons and squad shenanigans.

*Spanking head cannons. (request) (all boys I write for)

*Crying in Garrick's lap headcannon.

*Garrick's Little Sister headcannon

Lights Out

Josh Hammond

*Who's the faceless man part 1

Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton

A Viscount and the Dressmakers Apperntice

*Part 1

*Part 2

*Part 3 & Finale

ACOTAR

Rhysand Cassian

*Little Bat Cassian as a girl dad (request) *Special Package for Solstice

Azriel

Inaccurate qoutes

Acotar Thunder

Mistletoe

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - XII

Chapter XII: Keep Your Friends Close

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader . Warnings: None for this chapter in specific . Notes: I may or may not have started mapping out a sort of prequel for Eurylochus and mc. I’m not sure if you guys would be interested, but uhhhh yeah!

Previous chapter │ Next chapter

Masterlist

Odysseus made his way toward your small group, his confident smile firmly in place. You could tell it was mostly an act, a facade meant to dispel the lingering skepticism of the crew.

"Well, I'm off," He announced, adjusting the sword on his hip. The familiar weight seemed to ground him, offering a small measure of comfort. "Remember what we discussed," He added, turning to Eurylochus with a more serious expression. "I won't be long."

He patted both your shoulder and Polites' in a reassuring gesture, though his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer.

Halfway to the rope bridge connecting the ship to the floating island, you called out to him. "Wait, brother!"

He froze mid-step and turned back, raising a brow in mild exasperation that quickly softened into a deadpan look—one you knew all too well. "You can't join me," He said flatly, anticipating your protest.

"I wasn't going to ask that," You replied quickly.

Odysseus blinked, clearly caught off guard. He had fully expected you to argue. "Oh?"

"I need a favor," You admitted, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. His brow arched skeptically, and you could see him bracing for whatever catch lay in wait.

"...Which is?" He asked, his tone cautious.

"There are rumors that up there on the island," You began, nodding toward the distant landmass, "there are more creatures like our friend—"

"Your friend," He interrupted, but you ignored the jab and continued.

"We've decided it would be best for him to go up there, where he can be safe with his kind, instead of staying here... in danger."

Odysseus' expression softened, his piercing gaze taking on a warmth. He understood the weight behind your words, even if you didn't spell it out.

"I just wanted to know if you'd bring him with you," You finished.

"Of course," He said softly, his voice gentler than before. He glanced down at the lotus eater still clinging to you, its furry little arms wrapped tightly around you. Odysseus extended his hands toward you, awkwardly preparing to take it.

You carefully went to peel the creature away, but it clung tighter, its small claws pricking your skin—not enough to cause real pain, but enough to sting.

"You have to let go, bug," You whispered gently.

"No," It replied in a soft, almost pitiful voice, holding onto you like its life depended on it.

"You'll be fine," You assured it, stroking its fur with care. "There'll be others like you up there. You'll have friends to play with, and we'll come visit. I promise."

Though you doubted it understood your words, your tone seemed to soothe its nerves. Gradually, its grip loosened, and you were able to pull it away. As you handed it to Odysseus, the creature looked up at you with its wide violet eyes, filled with a silent plea that made your chest ache.

Odysseus took it carefully, holding it at arm's length like he wasn't quite sure how to handle the fragile little thing. His lips curved into a small, amused smile.

"You know," He said, glancing between you and the lotus eater, "it reminds me of you."

You blinked at him, confused. "What?"

He chuckled. "When we were kids, you were just like this, always clinging to me. You wouldn't leave my side for anything. Mother had to drag you off kicking and screaming half the time."

Heat crept up your neck at the embarrassing memory. You looked away, feigning interest in the crew members checking the ropes nearby. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," He teased, his smirk widening.

"Everything's ready, Captain!" A crewman called out, cutting through the moment.

Odysseus straightened, his focus shifting back to the task at hand. "I won't be long," He promised, turning to you one last time. "Do you want to say goodbye?"

You hesitated, your chest tightening, but finally nodded. Reaching out, you gently petted the lotus eater's soft fur one last time and it nuzzled into your touch. "I'll miss you, buddy," You whispered.

As you watched your brother pull further away, Polites and Eurylochus stepped to either side of you. Polites gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

"He's going to get us all killed." Eurylochus muttered from your right. His voice was low, defeated, and heavy with exhaustion.

"Well, isn't that a bit dramatic?" You replied, turning to him with a faint, teasing smile. Despite everything, you still believed in your brother. Sure, Odysseus didn't always make the best decisions, but those years training under Athena's guidance had to mean something, didn't they? Even if you held the smallest flicker of resentment for the privilege he was granted, your faith in him remained steadfast.

"It's not dramatic if it's true." Eurylochus shot back, running a hand down his face in frustration. He stepped away from you, retreating to lean against the railing of the ship, his posture tense and his shoulders weighed down by an invisible burden.

You glanced at Polites, and for a moment, your weak smile faltered. You could see the unease mirrored in his eyes. You knew you couldn't let Eurylochus spiral further.

Steeling yourself, you moved to stand beside the taller man, your shoulder brushing against his as you leaned on the railing. At the small gesture, he let out a faint smile—one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, you knew he offered it only for your sake.

"Hey," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "We'll get home, safe and sound. The Cyclops was just... an unfortunate circumstance, a string of bad luck. But look—we're here now. We found a small place to keep us safe, even if it's just for a little while."

You weren't entirely sure if your words were meant to reassure him or to convince yourself.

"Still..." Eurylochus began, but his voice trailed off as his gaze fixed on the swirling water below.

"Ody will reach a deal with Aeolus," Polites chimed in, stepping up on the other side of Eurylochus. Unlike the two of you, he didn't gaze out at the horizon; instead, he rested his elbows on the railing, his weight leaning into it as if the wooden frame could bear the weight of his hopes and doubts alike. "They'll help us get home."

"With that storm in the way, I doubt we'll make it." Eurylochus replied, his voice flat.

Without thinking, you rested your head on his shoulder and extended a hand for him to take. After a hesitant pause, he grasped it softly, his grip tentative but grounding. You didn't offer more words—sometimes there weren't any left to say. You knew how difficult it was to pull him out of his downward spiral, but for now, you could provide silent reassurance.

The moment stretched out between you in quiet solidarity. Though doubt and fear still bubbled beneath the surface of Eurylochus's mind, your presence, your touch, seemed to steady him. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and his heart, racing moments before, slowed to a calmer rhythm.

For now, the three of you stood together, anchored in each other's presence amidst the uncertainty of the vast sea.

──────🌊──────

(Day 1)

When Odysseus returned, it was with a broad grin plastered across his face, a bag strapped to his back, and a flock of peculiar critters trailing closely behind him. He landed on the ship's deck with a heavy thud, the sound drawing every crew member's attention. The men hurriedly gathered around him, eager to uncover the reason behind his unusually cheerful demeanor. Surely, it had to be good news—what else could make their captain so pleased?

You, Polites, and Eurylochus elbowed your way through the throng of curious sailors, determined to get closer to your brother.

Odysseus unstrapped the bag from his shoulders, handling it with a strange mix of reverence and pride. He cradled it as if it were the most fragile artifact in the world, yet his triumphant stance made it clear he saw it as some sort of trophy.

"Captain, what's happening?" Perimedes' voice rose above the sea of murmurs, breaking the unspoken hesitation to address Odysseus directly.

"What's in the bag?" Elpenor chimed in, his curiosity as untamed as his excitement.

The momentary joy in your brother's expression faltered as he realized their questions might lead to trouble. Too much curiosity, he knew, could unravel even the best of plans. "Something dangerous, my friends. We mustn't linger."

The strange creatures that had been following Odysseus finally caught up, their unusual forms drawing your attention. They bore a passing resemblance to the small lotus eater you had befriended, but their differences were striking. Their coats lacked the earthy tones of your companion, replaced by shimmering hues of soft blues and silvers, and their eyes gleamed an unnerving, bright azure.

Most curious of all was how they moved—not quite flying, but floating through the air as though carried by unseen winds. Your lotus eater friend hovered among them, lifted by one of them wearing a goofy, lopsided grin. It warmed your heart to see how easily it'd been accepted into this strange, otherworldly family. Yet something about the critters' innocent smiles felt off, a warning you couldn't quite grasp but wished you had.

"It's treasure!" The floating creatures declared, their high-pitched voices slicing through the air.

That declaration caught everyone's attention. All eyes were on Odysseus now, but the mood had shifted. Most of the crew didn't look pleased. Instead, doubt flickered across their faces. Why would their captain—a king, no less—lie about something as trivial as treasure? Didn't he already have all the riches he could ever need and more?

Some questioned whether the strange creatures could even be trusted. What reason did they have to believe their words? Surely their captain—who had led them through countless trials and never failed them before—wouldn't stoop to keeping treasure for himself, right? He'd never lied to them before. Why start now, especially when they were so close to reaching home?

You, however, had no such doubts. You trusted Odysseus implicitly. You knew in your heart that he would never lie about something so important, and you wouldn't let anyone who dared question that truth off the hook so easily.

"What?" Odysseus' cheerful facade crumbled in an instant, his tone darkening.

As if satisfied with the chaos they had sown, the critters vanished. It happened so quickly you barely had time to blink, their sudden disappearance leaving an eerie silence in their wake.

"Open the bag!"

"Yeah, let's see what's inside!" Perimedes and Elpenor, undeterred by the odd events, pressed on, their excitement undiminished. You couldn't tell if they were genuinely curious or testing Odysseus' patience.

Elpenor leaned in, extending a hand toward the bag as though intending to open it himself.

"No. Do not." Odysseus' voice was sharp as he yanked the bag out of reach. He caught himself a moment later, realizing the effect his outburst had on the crew. Their raised brows and frowning faces reflected their growing unease.

Taking a steadying breath, Odysseus addressed them again, this time with a measured tone. "Listen closely, all of you. See how this bag is sealed tight? That's how it must remain. This bag holds the storm inside. If it opens, we're doomed. We cannot allow the rumor of treasure to spread."

His explanation hung heavy in the air, his words laced with urgency. Slowly, the reluctance on the crew's faces began to shift into hesitant acceptance. None dared openly defy their captain, though doubt lingered in the corners of their eyes.

"We'll try."

──────🌊──────

(Day 2)

You inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the ocean air filling your lungs, and exhaled slowly through your mouth. The horizon stretched out before you, an infinite expanse of blues blending seamlessly into the sky. The sunlight glittered on the waves like scattered diamonds, painting a picture so tranquil it almost felt like a dream. You stared at the water's surface, wondering what mysteries lay beneath—what strange creatures roamed the depths, hidden from mortal eyes. You'd long since concluded that you'd never know, but the speculation always brought a spark of wonder to your day.

So far, your journey through the endless sea had been surprisingly pleasant. No storms had risen to test your resolve, just the ceaseless rhythm of the waves and the warm embrace of the sun above.

Odysseus stood beside you, silent and composed. The two of you didn't need words to share these moments; you never had. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a quiet bond forged through years of shared hardship and triumph. These rare peaceful intervals, though fleeting, meant everything.

A yawn escaped your brother's lips, and though you kept your gaze fixed on the horizon, you could feel his exhaustion. He hadn't rested since acquiring the bag of winds. It wasn't unusual for Odysseus to forgo sleep, pouring himself into his duties as if the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders. But it didn't sit right with you. No one should have to endure that—not even him.

"You really need to sleep." You said at last, turning to face him.

Odysseus glanced at you, the weariness in his eyes betraying his stoic facade. "I can't. Not until we're home."

"Is this about the bag? Do you really think they'd be foolish enough to open it?"

"Don't underestimate them." He replied, his tone flat but firm.

You rolled your eyes and smirked. "Wow, alright, Mister Wise Guy." Playfully, you gave him a light shove, earning a faint smile from him in return. "But seriously, do you want me to watch it while you rest?"

Odysseus hesitated, his expression uncertain.

"It doesn't have to be me," You added, trying to reassure him. "You still have Polites... or Eurylochus. He's your second in command for a reason."

"It's not that I don't trust you," He said softly, almost to himself. "I just... I can't risk it."

"You do realize that sounds a lot like you don't trust us, right?"

Instead of answering, your brother turned his gaze back to the endless sea. His silence spoke volumes.

"What do you think Mother's doing right now?" He asked suddenly, steering the conversation into safer waters.

"Oh, so we're doing this again." You said, folding your arms. "Every time I try to get you to open up, you change the subject. It's okay to be vulnerable, you know. I'm your sister."

Odysseus glanced at you, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Why do you throw yourself into danger so much?"

Your face warmed, and you quickly looked away. "I think she's weaving." You muttered, ignoring his question.

He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. In moments like these, it was impossible to deny how much alike you were. After a pause, he squinted, clearly mulling over his own answer.

"Well, I think she's... playing with Telemachus!" He decided, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Of course she would be. Do you remember how she reacted when she first saw him? We had to drag her out of the room."

The memory pulled a laugh from Odysseus, one of those rare, unguarded ones. It was contagious, and soon you were laughing too.

"How old is he now?" You asked once your laughter faded. "Ten?"

"Yes." He nodded, his expression softening. "I'm keeping track of every single day that passes. I can't wait to finally get home—to see him and my beautiful Penelope—"

"Beautiful Penelope" You mocked, mimicking his dreamy tone. "By the gods, you're a lost cause."

"I was a lost cause the day I met her." He admitted with a grin.

"I know! I was there!"

He laughed again and reached over to ruffle your hair like he used to when you were children. Not that he ever really stopped, but it still made you feel like you were ten years old again. You batted his hand away, muttering protests as you tried to smooth your hair back into place.

"When we get home... what's the first thing you'll do?" You asked after a moment, your voice quieter.

Odysseus's smile softened. "I'll hug them as hard as I can and never let go again."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the gentle lapping of the waves against the ship. These were the moments you cherished most—the calm before the inevitable storm.

Odysseus's expression shifted suddenly, his brow furrowing. "What's this I hear about my 'something stupid face'?"

You blinked, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Word spreads fast on this ship," He said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Well, if you must know," You replied matter-of-factly, "you make a very distinct face when you're about to do something stupid. Hence, the name 'something stupid face.'"

"Oh, wow." He raised an eyebrow, his tone mock serious. "You dare talk like that about your captain?"

"Please," You shot back, smirking. "You're only my captain when it's convenient for you."

──────🌊──────

(Day 4)

You had to bribe the medic to give you a few strips of cloth, promising him you'd make it up to him somehow. You weren't exactly sure how yet, but you'd figure it out. The rest of the day had been spent in solitude, tucked into your own little corner of the ship. The task at hand: repairing Polites' broken glasses.

It seemed simple enough—at least at first. The glasses had been torn into three pieces: one half split cleanly, and the other fractured again. The lenses were cracked, the fractures running through the glass like tiny spiderwebs. It was a miracle they hadn't completely shattered or popped out of the frames. Yet despite how straightforward the repair looked, you kept failing. Tinkering was not one of your strong suits.

Still, you refused to give up. Days of fiddling and trial and error finally led to something resembling a passable fix. It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but... decent. Yes, definitely decent. You'd tied the parts together with the cloth strips, the makeshift knots holding the frames together like delicate stitches in a wound.

Satisfied—or at least as satisfied as you were going to get—you scanned the ship for Polites. You were eager to give him the glasses before they fell apart in your hands. The gods knew that every fragile thing you touched seemed cursed to break. After some searching, you spotted him speaking to one of the younger sailors. Polites squinted at something the younger man had pointed out in the distance.

You hung back, waiting for their conversation to end. The younger sailor eventually nodded and walked off, heading toward the direction he had indicated. Seizing the opportunity, you hurried toward Polites, clutching the glasses like they were made of glass, which... they kind of were. Just as his gaze began to drift in your direction, you quickly hid the repaired glasses behind your back.

"Oh, [Name]!" He waved you over with his usual warmth.

You approached, and his eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion at the way your hands were hidden. "What do you have there?" he asked, his brow quirking.

"Oh, you know..." You hesitated, then slowly pulled your hands from behind your back, raising the glasses to eye level—way too close to his face.

He squinted, leaning his head back to get a better look. "...Ta-da!" You exclaimed, though your voice wavered slightly with nerves.

It took him a moment to recognize what you were holding, but when he did, his expression softened with surprise. "You actually went back to get them?"

"Yes, uhh, I wanted to see if I could repair them... and I think I did?" You let out an awkward chuckle as he gently took the glasses from your hands.

"Wow." He murmured, turning them over carefully.

"Be gentle!" You blurted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You knew how fragile the repairs were and didn't want them to snap apart under the slightest pressure.

He slowed his movements, though you could tell he wasn't too worried about breaking them. Still, he humored you, handling the glasses as delicately as if they were made of porcelain.

"So," You asked, your voice bubbling with excitement, "what do you think?"

He slid the glasses onto his face with deliberate care, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted. Then, his face lit up with a broad smile. "I love them! Thank you so much!"

Before you could respond, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you with a kind of easy, genuine warmth, and you felt the tension you hadn't realized you'd been holding melt away. You hugged him back, your chin brushing against his shoulder as you smiled. For a moment, the creak of the ship and the chatter of the crew faded, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, unspoken gratitude.

──────🌊──────

(Day 6)

The tension on the ship was impossible to ignore now. Men muttered behind cupped hands, their words laced with resentment toward their captain. You'd found yourself playing mediator more often than not, breaking up arguments between even the most loyal crew members and those who dared to voice their doubts about your brother. The relief you'd felt after the storm had subsided had been short-lived, overshadowed by the gnawing fear of mutiny brewing beneath the surface.

Despite the unease, the morning had been relatively calm—until you overheard two familiar voices spitting venom about your brother. Elpenor and Perimedes stood near the railing, leaning casually as though their treacherous words were as harmless as the sea breeze. They spoke loudly, with a reckless sort of pride, questioning whether the bag your brother guarded so fiercely held wind or treasure—and whether his intentions were to share it with the crew at all.

Their voices carried, unbothered by the idea that someone might hear—or perhaps they thought themselves untouchable.

You couldn't stand by and let them slander Odysseus. It didn't matter that they'd been civil—maybe even kind—to you in the past. This crossed a line. You stepped forward, your voice sharp and unwavering as you called them out. "You're spouting nonsense," you said, glaring at them. "If you're going to speak ill of your captain, at least have the decency to do it in private. Show an ounce of honor."

Elpenor straightened, his lip curling into a sneer. "Of course you'd think that. You're his sister." His tone dripped with mockery. Under his breath, he added, "Damn royals..."

Your fists clenched at your sides. "You'll eat your words."

"Oh, will we now?" Perimedes shot back, his smirk infuriatingly smug. "For all we know, you and your brother are in on this together. Why should we trust you? Hiding treasure, plotting behind our backs—it's what royals do, isn't it?"

The insinuation stung, but before you could fire back or let the situation spiral into something physical, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"Enough."

Eurylochus stepped in, his expression like thunderclouds over the horizon. He shot Elpenor and Perimedes a look that could have silenced a storm, then turned to you. "Leave it," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

The two men didn't bother hiding their muttered jabs as you reluctantly stepped away, but Eurylochus's pointed glare made you swallow your pride. This wasn't worth it. Not now. Not like this.

──────🌊──────

(Day 9)

The ship rocked gently, the waves lapping softly against its sides. The night was calm, the stars scattered like grains of salt across an inky sky, their light reflecting faintly off the ocean. The ship's crew was mostly asleep, save for a few sailors who quietly tended to their duties, their movements blending into the stillness. The air was cool, carrying the salty tang of the sea, and the faint creak of the wood beneath you was the only sound besides the whisper of the wind.

Movement beneath your head stirred you from your slumber. It was deep into the night, and you, Eurylochus, and Polites had huddled together for warmth, leaning against a stack of barrels that offered some shelter from the biting sea breeze. Polites had his head resting heavily on your shoulder, his mouth slightly agape, with a thin trail of drool glistening from his mouth to his chin. His arms clung tightly to your right one, as though afraid you might vanish in the night. Polites slept like a stone, utterly oblivious to the world around him.

Your own head had been nestled against Eurylochus' shoulder, his arm resting lightly around your waist. The past few days had been hard on him, leaving him restless, his sleep fitful. It wasn't surprising to find him stirring so late into the night.

As you raised your free hand to rub the sleep from your eyes, the grogginess in your mind made it hard to fully process what was happening. But even through the haze, you knew it was Eurylochus trying to slip away.

"What are you doing?" You mumbled, your voice weak and hoarse with sleep. The question made him pause, caught mid movement.

"I just need to stretch my legs a bit." He replied softly, his voice careful not to disturb Polites.

Finally, your eyes focused on him, and a faint pang of concern stirred in your chest. "Is everything alright? Are you alright?" You asked, your tone gentle but probing. Your hand reached out to lightly caress his bicep, a silent reassurance that you were there if he needed to talk.

His gaze softened, his lips curling into a weak, hesitant smile. He didn't want to lie to you, but neither did he want to burden you, especially with home so close. The last thing he wanted was to dampen the few precious days you had left before your journey's end. "Of course." He said after a moment. "I'll be right back, alright?"

You studied him for a beat, then sighed. "...Alright." Shifting slightly, you leaned more fully against Polites, knowing there was no need to be overly careful—he wouldn't wake no matter what you did.

Eurylochus slipped free of your grasp, but he didn't leave immediately. He lingered, sensing there was something else on your mind. He knew that look in your eyes.

"Could you check on Ody?" You asked, your voice quiet but insistent. "He hasn't slept in days, and that stubborn mule won't let us help him."

Eurylochus chuckled softly, his breath warm in the cool air. "I will." He promised, though you couldn't tell it was a lie. He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your temple, and you smiled faintly at the gesture, already letting your heavy eyelids drift shut as you rested your head against Polites'.

Eurylochus watched you for a moment longer, his expression softening into something almost bittersweet. Then, with one last look, he turned and disappeared into the shadows of the quiet ship.

Your rest was short-lived. You woke to a cacophony of shouting and the sound of hurried footsteps pounding against the wooden deck. The ship was alive with chaos, every inch of it trembling under the weight of frenzied motion. You jolted upright, the haze of sleep instantly replaced by the kind of clarity only fear could bring—as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped over your head. The sudden movement startled not only you but Polites as well, who shot up beside you, his eyes wide with alarm.

The scene before you was pure bedlam. Crew members scrambled wildly, clutching at railings, each other, and the masts in a desperate attempt to steady themselves. Some shouted orders; others screamed incoherently. Your senses reeled, struggling to piece together what was happening.

Then you saw it.

Near the center of the ship, right beside the bag your brother had been guarding with his life, stood a shadowy figure. Panic gripped your chest like a vice. You barely registered the unnatural motion of the ship until the ground beneath your feet felt weightless. You stumbled to the railing and froze, heart pounding.

The ship wasn't just moving—it was flying.

Soaring through the air, a few meters above the ocean's surface, the ship hurtled forward at a speed you'd never imagined possible. The world around you blurred, the salty wind stinging your face as it whipped past. You glimpsed the island of Aeolus—the god of the winds—shrinking rapidly in the distance behind you. It took you nine agonizing days to make that journey before, and now, you were covering it in mere minutes. The realization chilled you to your core.

Your eyes darted around the ship at a frantic pace, desperately searching for your brother. Anything. Anyone. "Where's Eury?! Where's my brother?!" You shouted, your voice cracking under the weight of rising dread.

The chaos only grew. The ship lurched violently, throwing some men to the deck while others clung to anything within reach. Between the screams and the deafening rush of wind, you caught the sound of your brother's voice.

"Help me close the bag!" Odysseus was shouting, his voice strained. You turned and saw him, along with a few other men, struggling to close the bag of winds. The force within it raged like a living storm, tearing at their hands and threatening to burst free entirely. It was a desperate battle, one they were barely holding on to.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended.

The ship crashed down into the ocean with a thunderous impact, sending an enormous wave cascading over the deck. The entire fleet, dragged along with your ship, followed suit. The splash was so massive, so powerful, that for a moment you thought it might sink the ship entirely. But the sea eventually calmed, leaving behind a stunned silence.

All that could be heard were the labored breaths of the crew, each man frozen in place, too disoriented to speak. One moment they were sound asleep, and the next, they were soaring through the heavens. It was almost too much for the mind to process.

You looked around, your eyes settling on the jagged, towering rocks that now surrounded you. They rose like silent sentinels, sharp and foreboding, forming a semicircle that trapped the ships in an unyielding embrace. The rocks loomed over you, as if mocking your insignificance, their very presence oppressive.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but the eerie stillness. Then, a voice.

"ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA!"

It boomed across the water, loud and commanding, yet strangely inviting, as though it had been waiting an eternity to speak those words. But then, the tone shifted. The warmth drained away, replaced by a bitter edge that seeped into every syllable.

"Do you know who I am?"

The voice dripped with venom, each word laced with resentment. It wasn't a question. It was a challenge.

. Taglist: @permanently-nothere @lemonberryberry

(if you want to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or send me an ask or dm me, I don't really mind)

[violahenshaw]

I'm so late to this party but here's what I remember from my ritual (Lyon, April 26th).

It was my third time seeing Ghost live. I saw them each time they came in my city during their two previous tours, and I always had a blast. (I would have loved to see them in 2015-2016 but I had no job and no money at the time, ha.)

Skeletá was released the day before the concert. "Even if I end up not liking it, the concert will be amazing," I thought. I admit it: the first listenings of the album were disappointing to me. (BUT I like a musician taking risks and making bold choices, always prefer that to a band always doing the same thing over and over again. So I respect a lot Tobias Forge for writing whatever he likes. Anyway I can't stop listening to Skeletá now, that must mean something. This album grows on you.)

OKAY. SO. THE CONCERT. Was amazing, of course. A thing I like going to Ghost concerts is the crowd: the fans are so nice and I always feel safe.

The setlist was a complete surprise to me, I didn't want to know it beforehand and only knew they opened the show with Peacefield. (I love this track.)

Monstrance Clock!!!! Really? I was so happy, I thought I'd never hear it live again after the Prequelle tour.

I have a big crush on Papa Perpetua. The glitter mask, damn.

The curly hair too. The jackets. The makeup. I'm sold, dammit.

I mean I KNEW the new chara design, I watched the videos, but seeing Perpetua live, it's another dimension really. I've never had a crush on any of Ghost's main characters before, but Perpetua has my heart. And my hormones. (And that's where, folks, I separate the character from the actor. Because while Perpetua has me blushing, Tobias Forge has my respect and my admiration for his intelligence, but nothing more.)

Perpetua was less talkative than the other Papas, but I guess it's because the tour had just started. He cracked some jokes however, and I was glad he did. That's my boy.

Including the "I'd fuck you one by one in the parking lot but we can't do this." I smiled. "Chiche!" I thought in French. (Which can roughly be translated as: "Dare!" or "Okay, let's!")

He was cute running from one end of the stage to the other during Umbra.

And he smiled too, I had the feeling the man behind the mask had a good time. "You're great, that's why we keep coming back to your city," Forge said. And I said Forge, because it was the moment where he let go of his character after joking, as Perpetua: "It's the first time I'm coming here, or so I'm told."

All the musicians and singers were fantastic. I so love the bat wings on their outfits.

The scenery! I love the church setting with the big Devil in the middle - call me old fashioned, I'm currently working on a thesis about Lucifer after all.

I would have loved to hear Marks of the Evil One live though, it's my favorite of the new record. But I had a good time and smiled during the whole two hours of the show. I loved it. As always, the day after I just wanted to go back. See you next time, Ghost. It's always good to see you.

I must write an OS about Perpetua. Yup.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Blind Guardian Unhinged Post

(as requested by your votes in a poll)

So! We all knew this was gonna happen, right? I'm gonna gush about Blind Guardian now because some of you freaks seem to want that. Buckle up, we'll HansiHansiHansi below the cut!

Blind Guardian. Ah (le sigh). The mundane facts: a German Power Metal band founded in 1984 – though that's debatable, and we'll see why soon. Anyway, by this time, we still used to call it Speed Metal (and my pseud was "Speedy" - yeah you wanted it unhinged!).

I started listening to Metal around 1985/1986, and BG weren't a thing yet. And that's because they were still "Lucifer's Heritage" around that time: that was the name Hansi Kürsch, Andre Olbrich, Markus Dörk and Thomas Stauch had chosen for their band. Not all of these founding members made it into Blind Guardian, though. But it's safe to say that the origins of BG lie in Hansi and Andre, while the rest of the line up changed slightly in 1987, when the band was renamed in Blind Guardian. Their debut album, Battalions of Fear, appeared on Vinyl in 1988. I can't recall if I heard of them back then, and I changed my musical focus in the 1990s... so, when I went back to my roots in 2020 (that is, actively listening to Metal again), I've only heard their name but I didn't know any of their songs.

Well, that escalated quickly. Yeah, you people voted for unhinged, so you have to bear with my story about how I listened to BG for the first time and was instantly flashed. So much so that I decided every chapter and every title of every fic I was gonna write (because yes, I had also re-discovered my love for fanfic, thanks pandemic!) would be named after a line or a song by Blind Guardian.

Funny thing is, of course, that I didn't write for LOTR – because that's always been one of BG's main topics.

While Hansi and Andre are the main composers of the band, Hansi writes the lyrics, and he's a big fan of fantasy books. He loves the Silmarillion (thus the album "Nightfall in Middle Earth", which he's called his favorite in interviews), but Blind Guardian's songs are also influenced by The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan, Dune by Frank Herbert, The Dark Tower by Stephen King, Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, Michael Moorcock's Elric saga and, yes, The Witcher. For this, Hansi relied on Andre's and Marcus' knowledge of the game, mostly. Blind Guardian's music has also been in video games! They were even made into a band in Sacred 2, where they had an in-game concert. And they're on the soundtrack of Die Zwerge, a German RPG. Furthermore, Hansi is a fan of Markus Heitz, a German author; "Legacy of the Dark Lands" is basically a prequel to his books. Published as "Blind Guardian Twilight Orchestra", this is probably one of the most controversial projects of the band and, sadly, many fans don't like it. It's just different, I love it :)

Despite being one of the most influential bands in the Power Metal genre and Hansi being one of the best singers in Metal with a range of B1 - B♭5, they've stayed quite humble. And, a fact that will surprise you because yes, they've been a major act in Wacken for many years, they don't really fill big halls. Which is why, sadly, fans often complain about the sound of their concerts. Can confirm, the place I've seen them in in my town is rather mediocre of size and no, I did NOT like the sound. It sounds way better on the recording than it actually was. Still happy I saw them live, though!

But it's not always a bad thing to not fill the big concert halls. Because if you're lucky, you might just see them playing in a castle. Imagine how great that must have been!

Hansi (yes, he's my favorite singer, did you clock that already?) has also been a guest artist on many, many projects, one of the latest being Finsterwacht by Saltatio Mortis. He's been in various Avantasia songs and a beloved guest (well, Arjen said so, more or less!) of Ayreon. But before I list up too many bands, here's my Hansi Kürsch Playlist :)

And now, to finally come to an end, we need to get a bit unhinged again, right? Okay. Do you remember @deagle made me "Hansi the Bard"? :)

[13as07]

Spitting Image #4

(Gaara Sabaku)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to silent.rosario]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 4,077

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Part five? Maybe. Prequel? Also maybe. Y’all’s thoughts?

———————————————————————

     I have spent the last year and a half shifting between being thankful to Gaara and hating him. At this moment, I hate him. I am hot, sweaty, sunburnt, with sand in crevices I didn't know existed. And, this camel isn't too comfortable to ride. I am tired and irritable. Honestly, I'm just being a bitch right now and I know it. Sadly for Gaara, he's on the wrong end of the bitch stick.

     On the plus note, Yoshiki seems to be living his best life. Courtesy of his father's genes, the heat doesn't seem to bother him. If anything, he's enjoying the temperature and the feeling of the sand Shinki keeps playing with him in.

     "My Dear - "

     "Call me that again and I'll cut your tongue out," I hiss at Gaara, stopping whatever attempt at comforting he was going to offer this time. "I am not your dear, we are not together, you're nothing more than the father of my child. Don't let this move convince you otherwise."

     He goes stone-faced, slowly blinking in that dumb way he does when he's thinking. "Perhaps we shall spend the day cooling off once we get back to the village. I think the heat is getting to you."

     "And I think you're a dumbass with a weak pull-out game," I mumble under my breath, shifting on the camel saddle again.

     "My dear - "

     "I'm going to stab you."

     " - would you like me to get you down? Maybe stretching your legs will help you feel better. You get antsy if you stay still too long. Besides, I'm sure Shinki could use the rest."

"Jerk," I mutter, rolling my eyes at the man. As if he knows what will make me feel better.

I know he heard me, the proof being the slow blinking of his eyes again. Regardless, Gaara's hold on the camel's reins drops to grip my waist. He helps me down, sight as intense as ever as he settles me on my feet. "See? Better. Now, please be nice," he mutters, hands sliding over my sides to brush off some of the sand specks. "I'm not too fond of the attitude you have at the moment."

"Ya? You won't be too fond of my foot up your - "

"Papa?" Shinki calls, cutting off my empty threat. "Can Yoshiki ride the camel with me?"

"Yes."

"No," I answer, head snapping towards Gaara. "No, it's not safe," I repeat, glaring at the boys' father who seems confused by my decision.

     "It will be fine. Shinki has been carrying him, what would the difference be if he kept carrying him?"

     "Instead of a four-foot fall, it would be a seven-foot fall?!" I say more than ask, dumbfounded by the shinobi's thought process. "Not to mention it's a bumper ride than just walking with him in his arms. It'll be harder to hold him especially if he wiggles around."

     "It will be fine," Gaara repeats, lifting Shinki - with Yoshiki still in his hold - onto the camel.

     "It will not be fine. Gaara, get him down!" I shriek, panic quickly feeling me up. "What if he falls? What if - "

     "What if you calmed down?" He asks, leaning in to bump his nose against mine. I stand there stunned, blinking at the dumbass as my panic quickly grows into anger. "My apologies, Shikamaru does that to Temari when she gets a bit much to handle. It tends to calm her down, it does not calm you down."

"Of course it's not going to calm me down! My baby is up way too high! The chances of him falling and getting hurt"

"He is fine, my dear. Shinki is not going to drop him, and even if he does - which he will not - I am right here to catch him. Please calm down. Your irritation is starting to irritate me."

Before I can stop myself, my hand swings forward, having a mind of its own. A mind to smack the stupidity out of Gaara. The hit doesn't land though, he catches my wrist before I have a chance to touch him. "Perhaps while the boys take a dip in the springs, we can have some alone time. My brother tells me women can get irritable when their bedroom needs have not been fulfilled in a while."

He has to be kidding, right? Gaara can't be this stupid, this naive, this unaware of the things he says. "What the hell is your problem?" I hiss, trying and failing to tug my wrist out of his hold. "What part of 'we aren't together' do you not understand?"

Another round of slow blinking, making the black markings of Gaara's eyes stand out. I like his markings, the ones around his eyes, the one on his forehead. They're what originally caught my attention, but I can't think of that right now, because he is an irresponsible idiot.

"Would you like to sit on the camel with the boys? Would that calm you down?"

"Yes."

He lets out a soft sigh before turning away from me, going to work situating the three of us in the saddle. "Better?" He mumbles, his hand clinging to my thigh I have pressed against the sides of the animal.

"I guess," I murmur, trying to shake his hand off. "Can we get going? I feel like I'm melting."

"As you wish, Dear."

                      ————————————

All I can think about is a cold shower and a nap as Gaara leads us around the streets of his village. Yoshiki has the same idea, my son is fast asleep, cuddled up in the back wrap his father is carrying him in. Shinki is fast asleep too, my watchful eyes on him as he rests in the saddle.

     "My dear - "

     "Stop calling me that."

     "My dear," he repeats, stopping in his tracks. "What is it that you want made for dinner?"

     "What do you want for dinner?" I ask, leaning closer to take a peek at Yoshiki. "I can make whatever you want. I'm not really in the mood to eat anything."

     Gaara's head tilts as his face scrunches up. "You do not have to cook anything for dinner. We have chefs at the palace. They shall cook us dinner."

     "What?"

     "My dear," he annoyingly says for the hundredth time today. "There is staff at the Hokage palace. They take care of things so there is less I need to do. Cooking, cleaning, all that stuff."

     "Oh," I mutter, the fears that come along with this move amping up again. "That's... useful."

     "Yes, it is. I will have to get Yoshiki and you ID cards for the palace but for now it should be fine. I also - " Gaara goes on a ramble about the things he needs to do to get our son and me settled.

     I let his ramble go on as I follow after him. Soon a round-looking building with a red symbol falls into view, standing out from all the sandstone buildings. "Gaara?"

     "Yes, my dear?"

     I brush off the nickname this time. "What's that building?" I ask, pointing to the symboled building.

     His eyes flicker towards where I'm pointing before falling back to me. "It is my home, our home. It is our home," he rambles, tugging in the camel's reins before his free hand falls to grip mine. "Let me take you home," he whispers, tugging all of us forward.

     What I think is eagerness flows off the man who's almost dragging me forward. "You seem excited," I tease, letting my eyes flicker down to our joint hands. I don't know how I feel about it. It's not the worst feeling in the world, it's actually pretty nice. Maybe I'm being too harsh, maybe I'm not giving Gaara enough credit, or enough effort.

     "I am not excited. I am... I would like to see my family in my house. I would like to see that a lot."

     "So, excited?" I repeat, a smile crawling on my face. Maybe I should give him a chance, he is trying really hard after all. "Gaara?"

     "Yes, my dear? Have you given some thought to us enjoying our marital perks?"

     Just kidding. Gaara is an idiot who doesn't know boundaries. "No," I mutter, shaking my hand loose from his. "Just a reminder, we're not married."

     "Not yet, but - "

     "But never," I cut him off, leaning closer to him long enough to pull Yoshiki out of his carrier wraps. "We're not going to get married. Not now, not soon, not never," I hiss, holding my son to my chest as I storm away from him.

     "My dear? Will you calm down? I don't understand why you're upset," he calls after me, trailing behind as I rush towards the palace.

     "Because you're suffocating, Gaara," I shriek, quickly walking up the steps of Yosh's and my new home.

     "I'm suffocating? What do you mean? I don't understand, dear. Would you please explain what is happening?"

     "Dear Lord, Gaara!" I yell, turning to the side so I can look at him and not fall down the stairs. "That! You're trying so hard and... and... go away!"

     I storm the rest of the way up the stairs, Yoshiki now awake, my upsetness rubbing off on him and warming up his tantrum. "Ma'am!" A man at the entrance calls. His head is covered in a wrapping and one of those hourglass headbands I've seen around the village hangs around his neck. "You cannot enter the palace without showing your ID badge."

     "Bug off," I groan, storming past him to push the door open.

     "Madam, don't make you detain you," the man calls, jumping forward to tug my hand off the door.

     "Norio, unhand her this instant!" Gaara calls anger coating his face and his words. "She and my son are free to come and go as they wish. If you ever put your hands on her again, you will not be found by anyone. There won't be anything to find, am I understood?"

     He's fuming by the time the threat is let loose, jaw locked and murder swimming in his eyes. The look makes my heart pound in my chest and my arms tighten around my son. This isn't how Gaara acts, he's soft-spoken, he's gentle, he doesn't yell, and he sure as hell doesn't threaten to kill people.

     "Yes, Kazekage. My apologies, my lord," the guard says, releasing me before he bows. "My greatest apologies consort Kazekage."

     "My dear," Gaara calls, helping his son to his feet before working his way up the stairs. "Would you please calm down?"

     "Would you please leave me alone?" I shout, walking through the door before slamming it in his face.

     I storm through the palace, rocking Yoshiki who has started screaming in my arms. This village is suffocating, this house is suffocating, Gaara is suffocating. I thought he was just scary looking, that it was just how he looked, but after how quickly that threat came out and how upset he looked, I don't think it's just a façade.

     "It's okay, my love," I coo, shifting Yosh further up so I can cover his cheeks in kisses. "It's okay... we're just... in a village I know nothing about, with the only person I know being your father, who is scary as hell," I mutter more to myself than to Yosh. My soft tone works nonetheless, calming him down.

     As my son soothes down, I look around the random hallway we've ended up in. The thought of calling for Gaara crosses my mind, quickly being followed by the fear the scene outside has littered my nerves. "What position did I put us in?" I murmur, shifting Yoshiki in my hold. He smiles at me, hands landing on my cheeks to squish them as he babbles.

     "Lady Sabaku?" A voice calls, a young lady with a long head of raven hair asks, her head poking out from a door a few paces ahead. "Lord Gaara said you'd be home today. I have drawn an ice bath for you if you'd like to cool off. I'm sure the heat of the desert has gotten to you."

     My eyes flickered between Yoshiki and the woman, my nerves still shot. Is this a trap or am I just uneasy? However, I could use the cool down and Yosh is covered in sand. "Yes, I'd enjoy that," I finally decide, slowly walking forward. "Thank you...?"

     "Gou," the woman says, bowing once I'm stood in front of her. "My name is Gou, Lady Sabaku. I am your handmaid, my lady."

     "Handmaid?" I ask, shifting Yoshiki again. I don't know why he seems so heavy today. Probably because of the heat still seeping off my skin.

     "Yes, my lady," Gou says, standing up straight before she snaps her fingers. The door swings open wider, another lady - this one with short red hair - pops out from the room. "This is Sana. She is the palace nanny. Her primary focus is Shinki but until we find a nanny you approve of for Yoshiki, she will aid you in caring for him."

     "I... don't want her touching my son...s," I say, making it plural toward the end. If she's Shinki's nanny, Gaara must approve of her, so she's a good person... maybe? I don't know, especially after Gaara's little power trip.

     "As you wish, my lady. Give me a few moments to prepare your bath to suit Yoshiki joining you," the woman mumbles before turning on her heels.

     "Wait!" I call, holding my son closer to my chest as the Sana lady bows before walking down the hallway. Gou stops in her tracks, turning back towards me. "What... what is a handmaid?"

     "It means I am your personal servant. I am here to serve you in any way necessary, at any time, for anything you need. I am at your serves, my lady." She finishes off the little speech with another bow. "What you and our prince still like an ice bath?"

     "Yes, please."

                      ————————————

     My eyes are locked on the boys through the cracked door. As I've been soaking in the bath, Shinki and Yoshiki have been playing with Shinki's nanny. She seems nice, which has helped me calm down a bit. Shinki is bouncing on the guest bed, making his younger brother tumble around from the mattress moving. The nanny promptly sat on the bed, leaning over the mattress to help keep my son upright and not accidentally stumbled on.

     There's a knock on the door before Gaara's head pops in, cutting off my view of the boys. "Hello, my dear."

     "I've told you to stop calling me that," I mumble, sliding deeper into the bathtub.

     "As you wish, my... darling," he mutters the last word, imaginary eyebrows scrunching together as he walks into the bathroom. "It seems that you have settled. I have had Gou and some of the other servants unpack your things."

     "In there?" I ask, flickering my eyes towards the bedroom.

     "Of course not. It's been unpacked into - "

     "We are not sharing a bedroom," I cut him off, sinking even lower, the water settling over my shoulders now.

     "Not for the time being. You will stay in the master bedroom. I shall stay in a guest room unless you are comfortable with us sharing a bed."

     "I'm not."

     "Then I shall stay in a guest room," he mutters, his eyes scanning the bath water before they flicker towards the window in the room. His cheeks are a light pink color, a bit blown out as he stares at the street outside. "Kankuro tells me it sounds like I have scared you. Is that true? Did I scare you?"

     "Maybe," I mutter, skirting my fingertips over the surface of the water. "You were a little... harsh with Mr Security Guard. You don't usually act like that and... it was scary."

     Gaara lets out a sigh before he sinks to the tiled floor. His chin rests on the side of the tub, his cat-like eyes locked on my face as he stares at me. His eyes are intense, not the 'I'm going to murder someone' intense but the usual 'trying to figure you out' intense.

     "I did not mean to scare you," he whispers, eyes flickering down before they settle on my face again. "I just..." his cheeks puff out for a second as his eyes jump around, ending up settling on the boys still playing in the bedroom. "I did not like how it made me feel... seeing the palace guard grabbing at you. It made me a little... I don't know."

     "You don't know what?" I ask, blowing on the water to cause it to ripple.

     "I don't know how you make me feel. I enjoy... you, but you make me very angry. Especially when you get angry and won't tell what I have done."

     I scan the confused man for a moment, taking in the dark circles of his eyes that are more visible because of his scrunched-up face. Slowly, I move my hand out of the water to cup Gaara's cheek, confusion flickering across his face as his focus shifts to me again.

     "Gaara?"

     "Yes, my dear - er - darling?"

     I swipe my thumb over his cheek watching the confusion slide around his face. "You can be a little much sometimes. Just because we have a child together doesn't mean I want to, let alone am ready for us to be together."

     "I don't make you feel good?" He asks, his soft confusion is quickly bubbly to angry confusion. "You make me feel... nice. Why don't I make you feel nice? I do not understand."

     "You do, sometimes. You made me feel really nice the first time I met you - "

     "Well yes, that is what sex is for. To make people feel good."

     "Not just the sex, Gaara," I groan, dropping my hand from his face and letting it soak into the bath water again. "You move too fast. I am happy you want to be with me and I like having you around, but there are some steps between being strangers to being a married couple."

     "I am aware, but we... missed some steps. I like how you make me feel and you have had my son. I want you to be my wife, so you shall be my wife. That is what we are supposed to do."

     "Gaara."

     "My darling?"

     "I will make you a list."

     "A list?"

     "Yes, a list," I mutter, fluttering my eyes closed. "I will make you a list of stuff that makes me feel how I make you feel. When you have all the boxes checked off, you can ask me to marry you again."

     "Until then?"

     "Until then, stop asking me to marry you, stop talking about weddings, and just... stop talking about the future for now, okay? I just need some space."

     He blinks slowly as his eyes flicker between my face and my chest. "Alright, I will give you space."

     I let out a sigh, my shoulders relaxing at the spare-of-the-moment plan I came up with. It's not a lie, I do enjoy Gaara and a part of me will always love him especially since he is the father of my son. I'm sure if he slowed down I would fall in love with him, but if he keeps pushing I don't think it'll work out how we both seem to want.

     "Darling?" I hum a yes, opening one of my eyes to look at him. Gaara's eyes are soft and now locked on my legs instead of my chest. "I wish to join your bath. You should let me join you."

     I let out another sigh, deciding it would be easier to end my bath than fight the father of my child. "I'm getting out actually, do you mind grabbing me a towel."

     "As you wish, darling."

     "As you wish, darling," I mumble under my breath, a soft smile crawling on my face as I watch Gaara search for a towel.

                      ————————————

     A knock at the door stirs me in my bed. Like usual, my first reaction is to check on Yoshiki who's asleep in the bassinet next to my bed. Gaara tried insisting on letting him sleep in the nursery set up for him across the room, but the thought made me panic. So many people that come and go from the palace that I don't know, let alone trust. I would have never been able to sleep with him so far away.

     Another knock comes, pulling a sigh from me. I've sighed a lot today, courtesy of Gaara's failing attempts to give me space. On the plus note, he hasn't mentioned anything about marriage or weddings since our conversation.

     "Come in," I mutter, flapping back onto the bed. It's huge, easily fitting three people fully stretched out. Everything here is huge, the rooms, the dining room, the hallways, everything.

     The door slowly gets pushed open, the light from the hallway sneaking in. "Darling?"

     "Gaara?" I sigh out, eyes caught in the hanging drapes of the bed frame.

     "Can I come in?"

     "Sure."

     More light spills in before it's cut off by the door closing. The soft patter of Gaara crossing the carpet fills the space, soon replaced by the sound of him crawling into bed with me. The hot-headed Shinobi hangs his head above mine, his red hair fanned out and his forehead mark on full display, reminding me of the similar one our son has. "Hello, Darling. I have been looking over your list."

     "Ya?"

     "Yes. Should I do the things in order?" He asks, head tilting as his eyes run over my face.

     "Not necessarily, why?"

     Gaara settles down next to me, sitting against the headboard before he pulls out the paper. I shift in bed, mirroring his position. My eyes scan over the sheet, rereading the list I made for him.

     Date Nights

     Day trips

     Cooking together

     Late night cuddles

     Love Letters

     Star gazing

     Spa Nights

     "I don't know what cuddling is, but it is late at night. Would you show me?" He asks, cutting me off from finishing reading the page.

     My eyes flicker towards him, taking in the blankness of it as he looks at me for guidance. "Ya, I can."

     "What are the steps?"

     I let out an airy laugh, flickering my eyes around the room. "Just lay down, Gaara."

     "Why? Am I going to sleep? If so, I will need to change out of my day clothes."

     "Dear lord, Gaar. Fine, take off your clothes. Strip down to your boxes. I don't care," I groan, and lay back down on the bed. I snap my eyes closed again, soaking in the warmth of the bedding.

     The bed undips as he climbs out of it, the sound of his clothes shuffling off filling the space. "I am unclothed. Now what do I do?"

     I roll onto my back, letting my eyes scan Gaara's frame, the frame I haven't seen in so long. "What the hell is on your sides?" I ask, the imprints there snagging my attention but I am unable to make out what it is.

     "Your scratch marks."

     "What?"

     "The scratch marks from our night together. They made me feel... the ways you made me feel. So, I had them permanently stuck on my skin."

     "You tattooed the scratch marks I left on you?"

     "Yes."

     My eyes blink on over-drive as I look at the emotionally unintelligent man next to the mattress. "Lay down under the sheets," I muttered, lifting the blanket. Gaara does as he's ordered, laying as stiff as a board once he's in the bed. I slowly shift closer to him, laying next to his side and resting my head on his chest. "You don't have to be... unclothed for us to cuddle, by the way."

     "Alright."

     "It's love, by the way."

     "What is love?"

     "The thing I make you feel. It's called love."

     "Do you love me?"

     "I think so," I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. "You scare me so it's hard to tell, but yes, I think I do."

     "Do you know I love you?"

     "I mean, you gave me a son that's the spitting image of you so I'm pretty sure I know you love me."

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[opalecentsun]

The Fall of a Hero.

Hey opal here and this is the prequel to my new fanfic project i said i would be posting on mondays along with oc art and i will say that this was intended to not really be shown to anyone plus i have no beta reader please tell me if there are any grammatical errors or spelling errors. anygays the ship list and warnings:

- Shiny duo 

- Scarian

- Flower husbands (not seen much but is there.)

- Jizzie

- Nature wives (again not seen much but is there.)

there is swearing minimal but it definitely is there, death and mentions of bloodMinimal but it definitely is there. This is mainly from Pearls POV but there are other POV’s

Opal out.

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Prequel

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Pearls POV

“Guys be careful on this mission there are people inside the building.” I said we were going in to a night time ball knowing that there was a bomb ready to explode anytime in there 

“Got it Pearl.” Tango said. Huh that's weird he didn't call me perlio. Oh well he's probably just tired it is late at night.

We successfully made it into the back rooms of the ballroom to the place where the bomb had been left to sit with a countdown.

“OK Pearl what do we do now?” Etho asked me

“Tango, can you make sure that the door is safely secured? I'm going to pick it up to bring it back out.” I heard the shuffling of feet and thought that Tango had just gone to secure the door without question, which is not like him. Oh well I picked the bomb up safely and turned around to where Tango was mumbling to himself with one of his hands to his ear, sideying etho as to say ‘shh don't say a word’. What was going on with these guys tonight? We walked back to the main area near the door before Tango stopped walking and looked over at someone before looking back at Etho who gave him a nod.

“Guys, what are you doing where nearly out of here?” I asked Tango didn’t respond. He just pulled out a remote with a blue button on it and pressed it. The bomb started to heat up in my hands and i locked eyes with Etho

“The Hero Commision has decided that you're no longer needed and because of that you need to be killed” Etho answered blatantly like we were talking about what dinner was going to be

“What?” my answer was fragile as I looked back and forth at them.

“I think Etho already answered that.” Tango said. I heard no remorse in his voice, one of my oldest friends just letting people kill me off and not feeling guilty? What was this? I looked straight ahead to see Grian standing there. He locked eyes on me then Etho and Tango. I silently asked him to stay there for just a little longer. He either didn’t listen or didnt understand me because he started to walk over as Etho and Tango started to get ready to leave when he noticed the bomb in my hands steaming from the heat. I didn’t feel that though. He started to run over to me and Etho noticed him.

“Trying to call over your brother stupid mistake cant believe the heroes let you stay this long.” he said it loud enough for Grian to hear and some bystanders I actually knew like Gem and Joel who looked over.

“Effo what the fuck are you doing get the bomb out of her hand!?” Joel said coming closer “What is needed, I suggest you stay back.” Tango responded before ziplining up to the roof of the building with Etho. Joel stepped back reluctantly with a hint of murder in his eyes as he held Gem back almost having a silent conversation before she reluctantly stepped back but Grian kept running until he was in front of me 

“Pearl, are you ok? Why aren't they getting the bomb off of you?!” Grian was clearly distressed his voice had pitched higher as he talked 

“Grian step back ok i'm going to be fine.” I smiled at him as i heard the 10 second beeping start 

“No, give me the bomb. NOW.” he said with desperation in his voice but instead of waiting for my answer he snatched the bomb out of my hands and ran to the other side of the room.“Grian WAIT GIVE IT BACK!!!” I yelled at him but Joel had grabbed my hands to stop me from running after him “ LET ME GO I CAN SAVE HIM!” I turned back to Joel with something in his eyes I didn't pick up. He still didn't let me go “IT'S MY JOB PLEASE LET M-” the bomb exploded on the other side of the room taking Grian with it as Gem and Joel had us take cover. Joel let me go the second after the explosion rang out and I ran as fast as I could to get there seeing most of the people had caught on and weren’t in the blast radius but all I had eyes for was the body in the middle of the blast 

“Grian come on please wake up please Grian I- i need you please.” my voice broke at the end but all I had eyes for was him. He lifted his hand up a little for me to take before whispering our oath we made as kids after our dog's name before she passed “ Tilly death do us part.” his hand went limp and his voice cracked at the end but I had heard his last words and they hurt like sticks and stones. I broke at that moment. He had sacrificed himself for something that was meant for me to endure. 

I dropped his hand with a minute of silence before I screamed the most agonizing painful scream i could muster as Gem walked over to me with Joel trailing behind her

“Pearl, can you speak?” Gem had asked a simple question but even if I tried I don't think I could have given her an answer instead I cried into her shoulder

We sat there for 5 minutes before I spoke 

“Can we go home?” 

“Of Course Pearl.” 

I think Gem picked me up but I can't remember that well. I was too distraught. My only sibling died because of THEM. the ‘heros’. The people who picked and chose I couldn't believe that 10 minutes ago I was part of them.

When Gem stopped moving I didnt even comprehend where I was just walked in the door said hi to Cub and wait 

“CUB!?” 

“Hello Pearl, I heard what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. We can hold a small funeral in the backyard if you want.” 

“You would do that for me?” 

“If you want to.” Joel said behind her.

“ I-I would love that but where are we?” I asked and looked around properly at the world since Grians…it wasn’t mine nor Gems house and it definitely wasn't Joels.

“Well, Pearl, you're in fighter base.” Gem responded posing like the villain. whirlpool. Commonly known for using tridents in combat.

“I what why did you bring me to the fighter villain's base?” 

“To ask if you wanted to join, I guess. I mean you do want justice right against the villains that tried to kill you, took your friends away and killed your brother. Right?”

“More than anything but.. Wait Gem posed like whirlpool before, and,’ I looked over at Cub to see a burn mark on his upper arm the exact same place that firecracker got when he missed a shot at etho 1 week ago ‘, Cub has a burn mark on his upper arm,’ Joel was giving me the same stupid crazy grin that double bladed gave me 2 days ago after a close call ‘, and Joel is giving me the same crazy smile double bladed has… wait no your not all?” 

“Yes we are and like Joel said earlier we want you to join.” Cub said subconsciously rubbing his arm

“But I can't fight. I rely on- relied on tango and etho to keep me safe. I usually like jump down on people. What do I have for you?”

“You have smarts, incredible aim, a reason to hate the heros and your our friend now do you want to join or not?” Gem listed off the reasons

“Do I get to beat up Tango and Etho if I join?” 

“They're all yours to mess with.” 

3rd person view

Pearl sat beside a pair of gravestones placed next to each other on a hill overlooking the ocean they both respectively read ‘Tilly death did us part but were not dead till you forget me’ she had picked it out herself thinking if Grian were here he would be laughing his but off knowing how stubborn Pearl was and her gravestone matched that. She had just made her first debut on the news after whacking Etho and Tango in a fight without them knowing who she was and decided to have a peaceful afternoon until a hero came around the corner and stared at her.

“Can I have a peaceful afternoon?” Pearl asked looking up to realise it was the new hero they recruited after Pearl had been ‘killed’ along with her brother

“Not when you're sitting at Their gravestones.” she recognised that voice. Scar.

“I would say I have as much right to be here as you do.” 

“Not when you and your team planted that bomb that killed them.” ah they had resorted to lying.

“Well what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll fight you.” 

“A 1v1 against me when I'm unarmed seems unfair.”

“You know how to fight without it.”

“Do i.”

“Yes.” 

“You're incorrect there.”

“Don't make me call the other heroes just get away from their graves.”

“Fine hotguy but you might want to get used to me because next time i'm not moving away as soon.”

“We’ll see about that round whacker.”

Pearl started to walk away before turning back her cape blowing in the wind almost blowing off her hood. “You know scar one of those gravestones are fake and they're still alive, you just have to find the clues.” Pearl smiled even if he couldn't see it. His face had contorted when she said his real name and his eyes lit up when she said that one of the siblings was alive.

“Wait what's the first clue?”

“Play back all of your recordings with them in it and listen next time you're in a fight with the fighters.” 

Pearl walked away not looking back but feeling a cold hand grab hers and in the corner of her eye saw a waffle head smile at her.

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Prequel done have fun with this as you please chapter one will be coming next monday!

Also two small points to make is that Gem and Pearl are already married in this I just didn't mention it and anything that i do with this will be tagged with FOAH au and if you ever want to do anything with this au one ask me first and two tag it with fanmade FOAH au thank you!!!!

👋 Opal is out!

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[thelongestway]

This is a new problem to have, ahaha--several possible outcomes for the s5 prequel to s6 (which is most likely the format this is going to take!). And now I have to decide which of them works best story-wise, without having fully written it. :P

The bad news is, this is hard. The good news is: it is also resolved by writing!

So without further ado..

Chapter 6: Accomplice

One of Dr. Tenacious' accomplices?! Here? I could only hope my face was frozen enough to hide my bewilderment. But for once, the hacker seemed just as out of their depth as I was.

A Trellian agent? Ghostwheel repeated, their voice skeptical. Dandelion? Friend, I'm just a hacker with purely material interests. All I'm here for is some credits.

And that's why you're going after Encephalon, the Friend quirked an eyebrow.

The guys whose annual reports contain too many zeros and who never go to jail because they have sprawling financial empires are the easiest targets. Duh. It's getting involved with the small outfits which gets you busted.

…Which is why you're helping the Friends.

Like you said, we can help each other. But if you're not interested, we can just forget this conversation ever happened and go our separate ways.

The Friend cracked a smile. This Friend did not say it isn't interested. But most people with purely material interests stay well away from terrorists and their ilk.

Terrorists, murderers and drug dealers! Ghostwheel exclaimed in a cheerful voice that made my skin crawl. Just the kind of people who have a vested interest in keeping out of security hands themselves, which makes you my favorite people. But listen, Friend: this is getting fucking boring. Are you in or not?

This Friend is in, it nodded, then gave me and Zaharije a glance. But there is a number of operative problems we must resolve before we hit them.

Indeed, Zaharije said. Ghostwheel, you said you could help with the evacuation? We have two patients to handle, at least one of whom will need it--and with these news, I'd say it's both of them.

Oh, that's easy, Ghostwheel said. You have a stolen wormhole-capable shuttle, Friend, don't you? That should be able to take your patients just fine. And I'll cover for your departure.

You know it was stolen, the Friend said, its lopsided grin back on its face.

Ghostwheel gave a laugh, and the Friend's eyes glazed over as it appraised some sort of data the hacker must have sent it.

Presumably, the two of them made conversation Zaharije and I were not party to, so I turned to him and quietly said, "They're being very presumptious about the… About Luca letting us use his shuttle."

Zaharije answered just as quietly, "I think that aspect of the evacuation won't be a problem. The real question is, if it will fit everyone who must leave."

"I told you. I'll stay."

The look on my friend's face was as pained as it was affectionate. "I appreciate it, my friend. Really, I do. But no. With these revelations from Ghostwheel, you especially must go."

"What? Why?"

"It's no longer safe."

"It's never been safe! That hasn't stopped you!"

"Encephalon will realize soon enough that releasing the data to me was no error on their part, but an attack. And when they do, they will stop playing games and retaliate. This means both you and our patient's family are in danger. My friend, you said once that Preservation provides sanctuary to refugees? I was hoping you could vouch for them."

Light, Zaharije was starting to get desperate with this. We really were in trouble.

"Preservation is half a year away," I said as gently as possible. "We'll never make it that far."

"Or perhaps Luca has some other option? In any case, you must try."

"We must try, if that's the case. You can't stay either," Zaharije started protesting but I cut him off, "Zaharije, either Ghostwheel's cover works or it doesn't. If you're right about the retaliation, then Rive won't save you. The clinic is done for. What use would staying here be?"

"Having Rive is more than any of the patients have. I have the best chances--"

"Doctors," the Friend suddenly said, coming out of its trance. "Which of you is going down to Encephalon's fetid bowels together with this Friend?"

"Who said--"

"You need a ship--and yes, this Friend believes it can squeeze in a few more people. If we take your food stores, we will manage. This Friend needs data, and a companion competent enough to tell it which experimental data will be useful and which is garbage on a limited time frame, because its own expert is currently sedated in the medbay over there. All of us need to see Encephalon's experimental subjects rescued and, ideally, its operations stopped. Well, except for Ghostwheel, who needs credits. The solution is obvious, doc."

"Yes, it is," Zaharije nodded. "Dr. Mrinal, if you will help prepare the patients for depar--"

There was only so much of this I could take. I didn't know how this turned out to be my fucking life, but by light, I no longer cared.

"No," I cut Zaharije off again before he could speak. "No! Because Rive or not, you are the one our patient's family knows and will trust, and because I am in far better shape than you are, and because I have no idea what's going on here any more, but--" I turned to the Friend and met its damned grinning eyes, "--but I'm going to trust Zaharije that you're not some kind of weird Encephalon plant that's a pawn in a fucked up pile of internal corporation politics which I don't understand, and that instead you actually are working to take them down, and that your fucking terrorism is for the greater good!"

"So you're going," the Friend clarified, its voice almost amused.

I stood my ground.

"Yes! Of course I'm going! It has to be me! But Friend, I fucking swear: if I die out there, and if you don't keep your word, I--" I swallowed. I wasn't going to do anything when I was dead, of course. I wasn't smart enough to set up dead drops, or to have handed over my revelations to a trusted journalist, or to have readied any kind of blackmail, or--or to have done anything in advance that could have an effect on the heavily armed mercenary.

That I was screaming at. While it stared at me.

Fuck.

The Friend said nothing. Neither did Zaharije. I turned to him and said, "Zaharije, please. I can't be out alone with the patients at the Friend's light-forsaken mercy! I won't make it past one system jump! You're the one who understands what he's doing, who has the contacts and the experience! You have to go!"

That look on Zaharije's face. I stared down on the ground, because I couldn't bear it.

"It is the better option, doc," the Friend supplied from behind my back. "If we do not make it back and Mrinal pulls a stunt like this at a corporate checkpoint, they're all dead. You, at least, know how to hold your tongue."

"Not when I had been as new at this as Dr. Mrinal is I didn't," Zaharije sighed. "But that is neither here nor there right now. You two are certain?"

The Friend nodded. So did I.

"Then let us get to it. We are losing starlight."

Yes, you fucking are! Ghostwheel suddenly hissed into our feeds. And I really didn't like the way they sounded--no longer confident, but tense, and I wasn't sure if they were angry or scared, or both. Friends, the Platinum Drama Chit performance has been great and everything, but can you all please, please shut up and get moving?

The Friend was suddenly on its feet and clicking off the safety on its weapon.

Status, Ghostwheel?

Unclear. But something weird is moving down at my Encephalon taps, and I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this whole thing. If we want to get this done, we have to do it fast.

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Love Songs and Shit (Extended Masterpost)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x YN

Genre: Angst, Hurt, Fluff, Smut (honestly it varies depending on the chapter)

Wordcount: if only I knew...

Plot: YN is a popular American singer-songwriter who, on a rainy evening in 2018, crossed path with the members of Greta Van Fleet. It didn't take long for the usually detached and fiercely independent girl to experience an unfamiliar itch. As she put pen to paper, it seemed a certain long-haired guitarist had her thinking about writing love songs and shit.

Concept: Each Album is a period of YN's journey, each track is a song she wrote after a specific chapter, so basically her discography is a chronological story of her life (with Jake, mostly). I'm currently not posting chapters in chronological order, but everything is organized in chronological order on this Masterpost.

Disclaimer: All the album covers are paintings by Norwegian painter Henrik Aarrestad Uldalen I edited. So, credit to that guy.

Also some chapters may involve triggering themes, I'll add the specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Stay safe, besties.

(PREQUEL)Debut Album: "Remain Nameless" => NOT YET STARTED

Old Money

Seven

Blue Velvet

Lost at Sea

Bel Air

South London Forever

This is what makes us girls

Dollhouse

All-American Bitch

Hope There’s Someone

Grace

idontwannabeyouanymore

Remain Nameless

Brutal

Rabbit Heart

National Anthem

2nd Album: "Sweet Nothings" => NOT YET STARTED

The Night We Met

Ride

Lover to Lover

Body Electric

Moves

Hiding

Hope is a Dangerous thing for me to have

Love Song

Sweet nothings

3rd Album: "Let the Light In" => NOT YET STARTED

Wildest dreams

All the girls you've loved before

Cornelia street

How Big, How blue, How beautiful

Dress

Love

Always Remember Us This Way

Let the Light In

Lover

4th Album: "How to Disappear" => NOT YET STARTED

The Next Best American Record

King

Brooklyn Baby

How to Disappear

Mariners Apartment Complex

Norman Fucking Rockwell

Watercolor Eyes

Sky Full of Song

One step forward, three steps back

Out of the woods

5th Album: "The Greatest" => NOT YET STARTED

Happiness is a Butterfly

Swan song

Too Good at Goodbyes

Favorite Crime

You're Losing Me

Without You

The Greatest

6th album: "Long & Lost" => IN PROGRESS

Hits Different (coming soon..)

Now that we don’t talk

Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Long & Lost (coming next)

Is it over Now? (coming soon..)

All This and Heaven Too

7th Album: "St Jude" => DONE

California

Secrets from a Girl

Style

The Way I loved You

St Jude

All You Had to do Was Stay

Honeymoon

Happier than ever

8th Album: "The End of Love" => ON HIATUS

The Bomb

Bedroom Hymns

Prayer Factory

River

All too well

Caught

Stargirl Interlude

Getaway car

Angels like you

Various Storms and Saints

Leave my Body

Cassandra

The End of Love

9th Album: "Dream Girl Evil" => NOT YET STARTED

Carmen

A&W

Hometown Glory

Dream Girl Evil

Swimming

Restraint

Sober

Sober II

Heaven Is Here

June

God knows I tried

Never Let Me Go

(SEQUEL) 10th Album: "Margaret" => NOT YET STARTED

Morning Elvis

Girls against God

Mama who bore me

Patricia

Did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean boulevard?

Kitsungi

Back in Town

I Drink Wine

Back to December

Margaret

[greetingfromthedead]

Pitter-Patter (Dad!Vash x F!Reader)

Plot: Vash feels like one more kid is a great idea and that's when the chaos begins, turning your whole life upside down once again.

Series: [prequel - Wedding Bells], [Part 1 - Little Feet], [Part 2 - Pitter-Patter]

Pairing: Vash x F!Reader

Rating: Everyone

Tags: no use of "y/n", post-Trimax (no major spoilers), domestic fluff, happy ending, pregnancy, children, babies, family fluff, cooking, parenting, happy marriage

Word count: 2.1k

Author's Note: Shows up at @jellys-compendium's house in a white van and another dad!Vash fic. It has been in the making for soooo long and it didn't quite work out like I wanted it to (caused me massive writer's block too cause I kept pushing it), but I hope all the readers get at least some joy from this.

"What about one more?" Vash nuzzles his face against your neck.

"You think we aren't outnumbered enough already?" you say with amusement as your fingers tangle into his messy black hair. He chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your skin. "You really want to be in a 2 to 1 situation?"

"Our girls are so good! They are so big already, and our littlest sprout will start running around soon too!" His hands wrap tightly around you as he holds you close. "Wouldn't it be the perfect time? To have another baby?"

"Well," you hesitate, "you are great with all of them. You are the world's best dad and the greatest husband anyone could ever wish for. If anyone could handle it, then it is together with you."

"Really?" His eyes glimmer as he pulls back to look at you. The man who used to be alone, running from his shadow of death, now has a family and a home to call his own. And it makes him happier than he ever imagined himself to be.

"We better get started then," you smirk, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You let out a deep sigh as your little boy wouldn't settle into his crib, no matter what tricks you pulled. The exhaustion is getting to you, and you simply give up, taking the sprout into your own bed to finally get some rest. Vash opens his eyes, still half asleep, to look at you putting down the child next to him before climbing into bed too. Vash's hand reaches out to gently stroke the baby's forehead, feeling the softness of their skin under his calloused touch.

"I don't know why he is so fussy today. Maybe it's the heat; it's getting to me too." You speak softly as you make sure everything looks safe. The baby's eyes droop, finally succumbing to sleep.

"You can leave the night shift to me. It's okay; you need your rest." Vash whispers.

"I'm fine. You need rest too; you're a lot more human now, and that means you need to sleep. You can't roughhouse with the kids all day and then be up half the night on top of that. We share the responsibility. We're a team. And don't forget: I have done this three times now already, so it's alright." You reach out your arm over the baby and stroke Vash's cheek softly with your fingers. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, a small smile playing on his lips. He doesn't even look as his hand reaches for your swollen belly, gently stroking your skin.

You don't exactly know when you fell asleep, but Vash is woken up by the little creak of your bedroom door. He raises his head and sees your younger daughter at the door. She pouts and rubs her eye with her fist, a stuffed animal hanging from her free hand.

"What's wrong, sweety?" Vash whispers.

"I had a bad dream." She looks so defeated and sad. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Oh sweetheart. Come here, but be careful; your brother and mommy are asleep." Vash scoots a bit more towards the center of the bed, where the baby sleeps with his arms and legs sprawled out in every direction. Vash reaches out his arm to invite the little girl into his embrace. She climbs into bed and snuggles up against Vash, who keeps his arm around her protectively so she won't roll off the mattress. She smiles and drifts off to sleep, feeling safe and loved. Vash smiles at the girl in his embrace. He knows too well what it means to be haunted by nightmares, and if there is anything he can do to make her feel better, he will. His heart is so full of love for his family, his gorgeous wife, and his wonderful children. Tears prickle at his eyes as he thinks about the life he leads now and how grateful he is for it. With such thoughts, he falls back asleep, knowing that he is truly blessed.

You open your eyes in the morning. After a moment to get oriented again, you look over towards your baby and husband. The little boy lays in bed like a starfish, the pacifier barely hanging from the corner of his mouth. Behind him, Vash lays on his back in a similar manner, his left hand under his head, the right one supporting your daughter, who has climbed onto his chest and is sprawled out. They both sleep with their mouths open, and you are surprised they aren't snoring.

You stifle a little chuckle as you settle in better and look at them with half closed eyes, enjoying the moment and your family.

"Mom?" a quiet voice asks by your door, and you see your older daughter, "I was wondering where everyone had disappeared to."

"Morning, sweetheart!" You smile and reach out your hand as an invitation. She quietly walks over and sits on the bed, taking your hand. You shift a bit more to make room for her, and you pull her closer to put her head on your shoulder.

"Mom!" she protests quietly in a more whiny manner, but makes no attempt to move away.

You should have guessed that peace only lasts so long. Soon enough, the baby boy kicks Vash in the ribs, who jolts awake with a start and disturbs the girl on top of him too. This opens the floodgates to chatter that stirs the baby in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, he doesn't immediately start making a huge ruckus, seemingly distracted by the presence of his sisters.

You sit up on the bed and lean into some pillows to be more comfortable and take in the sweet moment of your family all together in your bed. The little girl plops down, off her dad, and settles next to her brother to press her ear on your baby bump.

"I can hear!" she exclaims without elaborating further, her eyes lighting up. The little boy decides to copy her, and you suddenly have two kids sticking to you.

"Dad always talked to mom's belly while she was expecting both of you," the older girl says, as she is old enough to remember your last pregnancies.

"And he did the same with you too." You ruffle your daughter's hair, and she too gently lays her head on your belly.

"HELLOOOO!!!" the younger girl suddenly shouts at your bump.

"Gently, gently." Vash says softly as you turn your face away to hide your giggle, even though your body betrays you by shaking.

Vash scoots closer too, his left arm reaching to pull you closer, sandwiching your youngest children between the two of you. The children squirm and giggle, their excitement palpable in the warm afternoon air.

"Let's have one more, he said. It will be fine, he said." You sigh heavily with your arms on your hips. "As I said before… I am blaming you for this."

"I'm sorry," Vash says quietly while looking like a soaked puppy.

"Well, I guess I am not blameless. I let my guard down," you say, looking up at the ceiling. "I should have known better and considered the risk, but here we are."

"It's going to work out," he says, sounding hopeful. "We're all home again, safe and sound."

"Your boundless optimism is truly inspiring," you say sarcastically. "This is only the beginning, or have you already forgotten?"

"I have not…" he says, sounding defeated.

"Then let's enjoy this while they sleep. Cause if one of them is up, everyone is up. One baby and a toddler would have been manageable, but four children in diapers? That's a different story altogether. We better go." You look down again at the newborn triplets in their cribs before taking Vash's hand and leading him out of the room.

The chaos in your house has only just started. Whatever you believed was "out of hand" before only got dwarfed by what awaited you now. Balancing the babies and the older children and making sure nobody feels left behind is no easy task, but Vash is just as determined to be a good dad as he has always been. You still make a great team, but now it's just chasing around children instead of bandits and reloading milk bottles instead of weapons. And it's a chaotic, messy, beautiful adventure that you wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Vash often volunteers to be the designated storyteller, spinning tales of your daring escapades to both the more and less captivated members of his audience. He held all three of the triplets on his chest without complaint when they wouldn't settle for a nap in any other way. He always cradled the baby heap with a smile on his lips, and he looked like the happiest man in the world despite the countless sleepless nights.

Vash loves being a dad. He adores all his children. He likes running around with the girls, playing ball, or engaging in pretend games. He loves teaching them all he knows and watching them grow and learn. He loves the toddler, who constantly clings to his legs and blabbers the day away. He loves the noise and the chaos. He takes in every moment and cherishes it, even if it includes screaming, crying, and dirty diapers.

You can trust him fully and have full confidence in him. Often, he has already announced, "I've got it!" and run off to tend to the kids before you can even truly react to the noises of dissatisfaction. Neither of you could handle the chaos without the other, and Vash never misses an opportunity to tell you just how much he loves and appreciates you. He often brings you little gifts when he goes to the market or if he finds something you would like out and about. He brings little treats and nick-knacks to show you how much he cares. You have a whole collection of shiny rocks and little figurines and books he has brought for you on a high shelf, away from little grabby hands that want to put everything into their mouths. The shelf is a reminder of the love he expresses in small gestures.

The older kids like to flock to you as soon as you're in the kitchen for a taste of what you're cooking. You often have the girls helping you out while the little boy sits in his highchair, watching with wide eyes and a smile, ready to wreak havoc as soon as something gets within grabbing distance. He's the perfect blend of adorable and mischievous. He reminds you a lot of Vash, more and more each day. You really shouldn't be surprised by that, but each time that realization makes you smile.

Baking cookies has become a weekly tradition. The girls are always eager to help as you try out different recipes and experiment with new flavors. They shift the flour and mix the ingredients with purpose and grand focus while you take on any jobs requiring chopping or the use of an oven. Vash is looking over the littlest babies to make sure your small space doesn't get dangerously crowded. You've just put the tray in the oven to bake as you turn to the older boy, who dozed off on the highchair because the preparations ate into his nap time. You pick the child up and leave the girls in charge of watching the cookies as you go to put your son to bed.

From your bedroom, you start hearing babbling and a smirk appears at the sound. You have no issues with putting the kid in his crib, and you turn to peek in from the crack in your own room's door. Vash kneels by the bed, his elbows resting on the mattress. The left hand supports his cheek, and the right one dances across the tummies of the triplet boys who lay in a row in front of him. He makes little noises at the babies, and they blabber back in turn. They seem to be having an engaging conversation as the expressions on the children switch from furrowed brows to glee and back. The babies kick their legs excitedly in response to your husband's voice saying something incoherent but clearly amusing to them. None of the four chatterboxes notice your presence by the door, and you retreat with a wide smile on your face. You go back to your girls, but before you reach the kitchen, you start to hear soft singing coming from the bedroom. Something about skipping cats and hopping dogs.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

And if you feel like reading more of my dad!Vash, but want to get your heart steamrolled at the same time then I have the perfect thing for you: Stormy Night and Ghost of You.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I don’t remember when I followed you (I never had an interest in Star Trek and idk if you were an old old mutual that remade or something) but now I have so much secondhand knowledge of it, I’d like to ask where to begin? Is there a beginner friendly series, go chronologically, or some other way you recommend someone starting out with the Star Trek universe?

I've definitely always been a star trek blog, so I'm a bit impressed you're still here! I'm more than happy to help <3

As for starting Star Trek... there's a few places that could work!

I do think chronologically works well. The Original Series is (in my opinion) genuinely a lot of fun, and it gives you a good basis for the general vibe of the Trek universe. (It's all about hope for the future! And really silly costumes!) However, it was made in the 60s, and there are definitely part of it that are... very 60s. Parts of it aged very well, and parts of it didn't quite so much. (I also have a friend who thinks the pacing is weird?) I love it, and clearly it's made an impact, but it's not everyone's favorite! (And actually I think there may be some "Best Of" guides that let you skip some of the most "60s-ish" episodes, too)

If you'd rather start somewhere else, I think the next best spot is The Next Generation, which is the second series chronologically. It started airing in 1987, so the pacing/acting/special effects/etc. are all more modern, and possibly a bit more palatable. Also I think the first two episodes jump right into Star Trek's weirdness lmao so you'll know what you're getting into from the start. It is, at times, a very silly show.

The two other most reasonable places to begin, which might be considered the best spots for beginners, are

a) the AOS movies (Star Trek: 2009, Into Darkness, and Beyond), which are a bit more marvel/star wars/action type in their framing and therefore really aren't my favorite, but I know they've gotten a lot of new people into the fandom, and they are fun, so I can't begrudge them. (they're based on the Original Series characters in an alternate universe, so the names are the same as the OGs, but the world, plot, and characterizations aren't really.)

and

b) Star Trek: Prodigy, which is a new animated kid's series, and does a fantastic job being Star Trek. (and actually more trekkies need to watch it still. seriously! it's good!) It's a lot of fun, and gives a good taste of the feel of Star Trek in 24 minute episodes instead of the usual 50. (This is also the only one I know for sure is on a non-paramount streaming service, which may be a point in its favor)

Strange New Worlds might also be a pretty safe place to start, but I haven't seen that one yet, so I won't swear by it. also i keep hearing about things they're doing to spock and i have concerns It's still coming out, and is technically a prequel to the Original Series (though canon doesn't 100% line up. it's fine, it's sci-fi, there are alternate universes lmao). I've heard that it does a good job keeping the fun and campyness of Trek when some of the newer shows have lost it!

Honestly, I think you could start pretty much anywhere and have a good time! Star Trek does like to make references to itself, but it doesn't typically rely on you knowing these references. (Though I admit that I didn't recommend Lower Decks as a starting place entirely because i think it will be more fun if you understand the references. That show likes to make callbacks.)

This is probably a longer guide than you need, but. hopefully it helps? And do please tell me what you think, if you decide to start any of it! I'd love to hear!!! <3