#sunset valley beta

[l-1-z-a]

🌆 Connect between Old Town and Bluewater Village 🌆

The Sims 2 Beta Discord Server shared a theory about Bluewater Village. Its landscape and street layout is very similar to the Old Town from The Sims.

Here it is:

Sunset Valley, Old Town and Pleasantview are separate neighborhoods, connected only by Sims and their stories though what I noticed some time ago is that Old Town and Bluewater Village share quite a similar street layout

(an old screenshot, but you can kinda see it)

💡 BV's lore is that Landgraabs made it into a shopping district (according to the Bluewater Real Estate Office's description and the whole neighborhood's description being "new shopping and entertainment destination", so it's almost as if it had just been opened by the time the game's action takes place, or been opened for some time already based on the Sims living there), and as most Sims that lived there moved to Pleasantview, by the time the Landgraabs would come around it'd be mostly empty and they'd be able to turn Old Town into Bluewater Village

🏔️ Old Town is surrounded by mountains (at least the left side is), which matches with the mountain in BV (to be fair, the whole neighborhood's elevation almost perfectly matches with Old Town)

Link to The Sims 2 Beta Discord Server:

[spacebarbarianweird]

Pleasure

Synopsis: Astarion teaches Tiriel to give a blowjob.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, oral sex, trauma talk

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The late evening is sweet and warm, the stars shining beautifully in the dark skies.

It’s Astarion’s second spring as a free person. 

These months always bring hope, and even in his years of slavery Astarion sometimes dared to dream of freedom in those few weeks when nature was new.

Astarion looks to the right. Tiriel walks beside him in her spidersilk armor. The two-handed ax is strapped on her back. She looks ahead with almost child-like amusement. 

He can’t take his eyes off her.

Freckles, wrinkles on her forehead, those funny half-elven ears. He knows every small detail of her body – and loves her mindlessly.

Tiriel notices his look and takes his hand. Her skin is warm, and Astarion squeezes her fingers tighter.

She is much younger, only thirty-eight. The year she was born, he was forced to entertain a certain nobleman from Amn for an entire year. And by the end of it, Astarion thought that returning back to the mansion wouldn't be so bad because at least there he could pretend he was something more than a toy to play with in bed.

Tiriel was beaten by her relatives for being a half-elf. He was beaten and tortured for fun.

Tiriel was starved and humiliated by her own blood. He was fed rats and fleas by his master.

At the age of fifteen, she managed to escape, and Astarion’s undead heart aches when he thinks about young Tiriel, almost a child, wandering the wilderness on her own, without a weapon or armor.

Shedidn’t even have a name before an old adventurer, a tiefling-paladin, explained to her that “pixie” and “fairy” aren’t an appropriate way to call a young woman, no matter her race and origin.

Tiriel told Astarion all these with a bitter smile – her cheating mother, evil chieftain stepfather, cruel siblings, years of traveling on her own, the way she chose her own name at the age of fifteen. The loneliness and pain she tried to soothe with drinking. 

But Astarion knows Tiriel too well. She still suffers for what happened to her. Tears prickle her eyes when she talks about her miserable childhood.

They both have a lot of darkness in their past. She consoles him after nightmares and soothes his anxieties. He tells her how beautiful she is. 

He smiles to himself. Maybe the gods did hear him after all, making Tiriel’s father stay for the night in the village in the Sunset Mountains and sleep with the chieftain’s wife. It just took Tiriel some time to grow up and get to Baldur’s Gate.

“Well, the night is young and we have many hours of travel again. I wonder if there is any village we can get to by the morning,” Astarion says.

“I doubt it. One more day in the tent, then,” she shrugs. 

“Easy for you, Tiriel, you don’t have to stay inside! And I am trapped, protected from the murderous sunlight only by a thin layer of fabric.” 

“First of all, you keep me for yourself until I absolutely need to go out,” she laughs. “Second, it’s an enchanted fabric, and third it’s a very big tent! Don’t complain!”

“Oh, it’s not fun to be in a relationship if I cannot complain!”

Tiriel brushes her finger along his cheek. He closes his eyes, savoring the touch. If only he knew she was already alive in the last decades of his slavery. Maybe it would make things more bearable.

Then he notices Tiriel looking to her side. She opens her mouth and then immediately shuts it, as if trying to say something but not knowing how.

His wild girl doesn’t have a wide vocabulary, that’s for sure.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Oh? Nothing!” she blushes. “Nothing-”

Astarion is sure there is something on her mind but he isn’t sure if he should push her. Tiriel doesn’t like it.

Neither does he.

They keep walking through the valley and no matter how sharpened Astarion’s senses are, he doesn’t catch any sentient creature’s scent.

There is no one for many miles.

“Astarion,” Tiriel calls him out.

“Yes? What is it?”

She takes a deep breath and stares at her feet. Astarion is sure he’s never seen her that embarrassed.

“I want to take you in my mouth.”

Astarion has to put an effort not to laugh. “And what exactly in this gods forbidden place made you want this?”

She turns her head away avoiding looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking about it for three days.”

“What self-control!”

“Don't laugh, Astarion! Besides, you've gone down on me already! Even when I was on my period!”

He chuckles remembering the taste of her moon blood. It was incomparable to anything else.

“You are a half-elf, my dear, I couldn’t miss the only time you bleed every year and a half. In your case, it’s a rare treat. Not so rare if you were a pure-blood elf of course. Then we would have to wait for a decade.”

“I want to,” she says. “I want to give you pleasure.”

“As if you don’t already give it to me,” he approaches Tiriel and puts his fingers on her neck, where a fresh bite mark is slowly healing. “But who am I to say no to such a generous offer?”

He looks around and notices a boulder that he can comfortably sit on. 

Tiriel impatiently waits till he puts his sack on the ground and sits. Now Astarion can feel her arousal and he contemplates if he should just fuck her like he usually does.

He spreads his legs a bit so she can unlace his trousers without an effort.

“Should I undress?” She asks.

“Take off your armor. The rest only if you want to.”

Tiriel quickly gets rid of the spidersilk armor and stays only in her shirt and trousers. Then, she contemplates for a bit and takes off her top as well. Her skin immediately is covered with goosebumps and her nipples harden because of the cold air.

Astarion feels the tension between his legs. Tiriel knows what she has just done to him.

“Kneel,” he asks. He tries to make it sound like a request, but it sounds like an order anyway. Tiriel bites her lower lip and slowly sits down.

Astarion admires her face for a few moments and then nods allowing her to unlace his trousers. His cock is soft and Tiriel carefully kisses the base of the shaft.

“You haven’t done this before, right?” He asks, feeling his arousal grow.

“Which part of ‘I was a virgin’ don’t you remember?” She asks, planting a kiss right below his navel.

“Yes… True… Well, I’ve probably received it a couple of times, although I don’t remember. Usually, I was giving…” He shivers when Tiriel kisses his half-naked hip. 

“Should I take it?” She mutters. 

“Wait,” Astarion brushes her hair with his fingertips. “It will be difficult to swallow it fully, it will just be unpleasant. Use your hand.”

“Like that?” Tiriel grabs his cock the same way she grabs her weapon and Astarion gasps. 

“I knew what I was getting into,” he murmurs. He feels hot down there, all his thoughts and emotions are focused on his own cock which is getting harder as Tiriel holds it.

“Yes- Yes, like that,” he grabs a fistful of her hair and makes her head lean towards his  cock. “Now relax your tongue and lick the tip. Do it, don't be afraid.”

Tiriel studies the cock for a while and then touches the sensitive head with her tongue. She licks it, forcing a string of pre-cum to flow down the shaft, and then kisses the tip.

“Does it feel good?” she asks.

“Yes-”

“Great, because I like it, too,” she finally goes down and takes the part of his cock into her mouth.

Astarion whimpers as Tiriel starts sucking him. She still hasn't fully taken him into her mouth, and he doesn’t expect she will. Tiriel looks up, maintaining eye contact and he sees tears in the corners of her eyes.

Her right hand goes up under the shirt where she squeezes his right nipple forcing Astarion to moan loudly.

Inexperienced or not, Tiriel knows his body too well, all of his sensitive parts.

Then she stops half cock still in her mouth and her eyes smirk. 

What is she up to?

She goes down fully, her lips meeting the base of the shaft. Astarion feels his legs shiver. 

He is throat-deep in her and the feeling is like nothing that he’s experienced before. Tears flow down Tiriel’s cheeks. Astarion leans back, and Tiriel uses her right hand to reach out for his balls.

“Ngh,” he whimpers, feeling his orgasm getting closer. He thinks he should pull her head away and come on her naked breasts or on her face – he’s personally always hated getting gushed down his throat – but before he manages to make any coherent movement he finishes in Tiriel’s mouth.

Tiriel lets his still-hardened cock go and Astarion expects to hear a cough or gagging sounds but instead, she stands up on her wobbling legs, smiles, and parts her lips to show the white pool of cum on her tongue.

Then she swallows it.

“You taste divine,” she murmurs, letting him taste himself on her lips. “And look very cute right now.”

Astarion slowly returns back from the high of his orgasm. 

“Did you like it?” She asks.

“It was perfect. Everything you do to me is perfect.”

She giggles and then looks at his manhood. It’s still painfully hard. 

“I can do the second round,” she says, licking her lips, but Astarion pushes her onto the grass and tugs her trousers. Her own entrance is wet and swollen.

“I want you to scream my name,” he murmurs, getting rid of the last pieces of his own clothes. “I want you to moan and whimper like the good, wild girl you are,” Astarion adjusts himself and feels her warmth around him the next moment. “And then I will come on these breasts of yours.”

Tiriel cups his face and parts her swollen lips.

“I would love nothing more.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herautumnmorningelegance

[boringbones]

Have you ever wondered what the Sunset Valley beta would have looked like if it had evolved and reached the final version of the game following its initial concept?

Well... My new project Classic Sunset, unlike #OldSunset, seeks to reimagine that, without expanding the boundaries beyond what we have already seen.

This World will be fully base game compatible and It will follow a strict optimization roadmap to ensure that it will provide extremely pleasant performance

It will be a revisit to the initial concept of Sunset Valley, honoring the roots and making small changes to the concept. Several Rabbit Holes are being revised to deliver as close to the current possibilities as possible.

Many changes are still happening, textures are not yet final, but the main approach is to nest all the visual elements to ensure that the world conveys a feeling of comfort

I hope you enjoy the new feature!! I will soon bring more information, but you can follow the development of the map in our live streams on Youtube and check out all the behind-the-scenes footage, discovering how I'm recreating this experience in The Sims 3.

[wishsparkleemoji]

Sky iceberg tier 2: Assembly braids

Full iceberg

Nintendo playground: In the golden wasteland lobby, just past the closets, there is a locked gate which won’t open unless you or a friend you’re holding hands with has one of two specific capes on (like the Office). If you or your friend do have one of the capes, you can enter the playground— which is an area that locks the camera so you can play in “2D” (there is an option to turn it to 3D in the level). The capes are available to buy to anyone playing on switch.

The war: If you’ve spent any time looking at Sky’s lore, it is fairly clear that, at some point, there was a war. The general themes of the golden wasteland (spirits, elder, the battlefield), the Aurora concert (the seed and eyes of a child), the consistent sword and shield imagery… something definitely happened here, though it’s unclear what.

Megabird: In Orbit, if you look up at the sky, there are a bunch of stars— many of which forming what looks to be a birdlike head. You can see it more clearly during the credit sequence. This is believed by many to be an entity known as the Megabird, who is basically the god of this world— the one who created everything.

Eggs in boneyard: To the right of the broken bridge, there is a tree that has some light blue eggs in its top.

King/Prince: An entity/entities which appear(s) most in concept art and the statues from the battlefield in GW. Very little is known about them, apart from them being the king of Sky at some point before the events of the game— completing the trials of prophecy and henceforth becoming ruler. It’s unclear if the King and Prince are separate entities. It’s a common theory that they were a skykid, or the first skykid, hence why the trials were easier for them. Their concept names are Alef for the Prince, and Resh for the King (more on that later).

Darkstone: Darkstone is most present in collecting it during the Season of Abyss and activating some doors, and has been theorized to be the downfall of the kingdom of Sky, acting as a metaphor for climate change and nature vs technology. It has been theorized that this is what caused the war— the Isle, Prairie, and Forest not wanting to go further, while Valley, Wasteland, and Vault wanted progression. It has also been proven to originate from what looks to be sucking the Light from light creatures, primarily mantas presumably.

Constellation: In the “Concert in the Light” album, the song that plays during the credits can be found, so people can finally listen to the song on platforms other than YouTube (though the official version cuts off the second half, only including the part with Aurora’s vocals). In this album, the name of the song is “Constellation”.

Elders’ old names: In concept art, the elders all had names based off Hebrew letters. In order from Isle to Vault: Daleth, Ayin, Teth, Samekh (sometimes Sah for one and Mekh for the other to differentiate, but they share the name), Tsadi, and Lamed. They’re also sometimes referred as the time of day their realm represents: Dawn, Day, Rain, Sunset, Dusk, and Night.

Light Awaits: An early version/prototype/beta of Sky, before it was released as what it is now.

Chinese servers: Like many multiplayer games, China has their own version of the game with its own servers, and a slightly different way of running things. Based off some discord messages, they might choose the traveling spirit based on what the community wants rather than it being random, and have different events.

[groupalpha]

Lore and Info Masterpost!

I was chatting with a friend and the topic of a lore master post came up. I decided to make one, so here it is. Everything is in chronological order (except extras, which can be read out of order, or not read at all), so I hope this helps! This list will continue to update as the blog goes on :D

(I'll also list extras here that aren't as important if anyone wants to see)

It's under the cut so that this doesn't clog up anyone's dashboard ^^'

Collector's story (Link to all asks in Collector's campaign)

The Beginning: Comic Prism's spiral 1, and Prism's Spiral 2: Asks Blocked Communications 1, Blocked Communications 2, and Blocked Communications 3: Asks A New Slugcat: Comic The Adventure Begins: Comic Meeting String + Frost and Amethyst Pearls: Comic The Mission: Comic The Stars and Islands: Ask Breaking the First Tower: Comic Breaking the Southwest Bridge Tower: Broadcast

Amalgamations story

(Link to all asks in Amalgamation's campign)

The Beginning Light in the sky: Ask Strange Light: Broadcast Discussing Light: Broadcast The Landing: Comic Worries: Broadcast Strange Creature: Comic Reason for falling: Ask Beyond's first memories: Comic, One, Two, Three Not Top Secret: Broadcast These specific Radio Towers: Ask Attachment: Broadcast From the Space Unit: Ask Dangerous in the wrong hands: Ask Blocked: Ask What, were you born yesterday?!: Ask Cloud Layer of Radio Towers: Comic Another distant memory: Ask Finally meeting: Ask Harlequin and Sapphire Pearls: Comic New Faces: Comic A new quest: Comic Blocked Source Node: Broadcast Thirteen Elder Stories being absent for eleven cycles: Ask TRIPLE AFFIRMATIVE: Comic Isolation warning! Inside the Capsule: Ask Meeting Extracted Prism Sunsets: Comic Extracted Prism Sunsets and Harlequin Pearl: Comic Something with the Communications: Broadcast A short memory from the past: Ask Animal Experimentation warning! Meeting Ruby + Shockwave record: Comic The Bridge of the Island: Ask Ethos and Cassiopeia rivalry: Ask Ruby's arms: Comic One Topics of Murder warning! , Two Meeting String and Tides: Comic I Don't Want To Go Out Like This: Broadcast Leaving the territory: Comic Broken Communications: Broadcast Meeting Group Beta: Comic Meeting Sunrise Solar Starlight Lunar: Comic Copying Solar and Lunars Code: Comic Reconnected: Comic ICAN'TDOTHIS: Broadcast Meeting Twelve Far Away Dreams: Comic A Headache… or Something Else?: Comic

Meeting Last String of Life: Ask Another Distant Headache?: Comic The Final Headache: Comic Inside the space capsule: Ask Gore(?), Body Horror, and generally disturbing warning! The Entrance to Space Collective: Comic Panic attack warning! The Glass Vat: Comic Killing and blood warning! Amalgamation's End: Comic Death warning!

Extras

GA Fauna and Flora: Dart Worm, Pixie Lizard, Swan Divers, Flora page, GA Regions: Toxic Marsh, Radio Towers, Sky Bridge[OUT OF DATE], Pump Station, Sundown Canopy , Lush Valley , Unkempt Forest, Space Collective, Extracted Prism Sunsets, Endless Beyond, Last String of Life, Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, Sunrise Solar Starlight Lunar, Twelve Far Away Dreams Spotify Playlists

[the-lonelybarricade]

A Court of Faded Dreams: Chapter 51

Chapter title: This Is the Hardest part

Fic summary: In her grief after Rhys sacrifices himself to restore the Cauldron, Feyre accidentally sends herself back in time. Back in her human body, in her early days in the Spring Court, Feyre must be careful how she alters the timeline as she tries to save Rhys and Prythian from Under the Mountain.

It's here!! Thank you as always to @noirshadow for betaing this story despite my allergy to timely updates. I appreciate you so much!!

Read on AO3 ⟡ A Court of Faded Dreams Masterlist

Wind whipped over the white-capped mountains, billowing frost off the rocky peaks like drifting white banners. The snow announced their location just as effectively as any banner would; the howling valleys beneath Feyre and Cassian belonged to the Winter Court.

Frozen wind rushed past them with every powerful stroke of Cassian’s wings, lashing Feyre’s cheeks as she braved a glance towards the barren landscape below. The cold leaked into her chest as she thought about the distance still separating them from the Night Court. And how perhaps the white banners hailed more than just their arrival to Kallias’s court—Feyre knew that Cassian would need to rest soon.

If he were by himself, he might have been able to make the full trip. But with her added weight? The waning sun glistened against his forehead, and this close to him she could just make out his labored breathing over the rushing wind.

“Maybe we can stop in Winter,” Feyre suggested, needing to shout so her voice wasn’t lost. “Kallias could winnow us the rest of the way.”

To the Hewn City, at least. They would have to get to Velaris on their own.

“I’m fine,” Cassian said. As if Feyre couldn’t see the tension he held in his jaw, or hear it in his voice. “We’ll be in range of Rhys soon.”

This was assuming Rhys would be in the Night Court. Feyre knew her mate. If it were her, she would have been sweeping over every inch of land and sea between Velaris and Hybern. He had even said as much to her, in another life.

I would have torn apart the world to get you back.

“I’ll fly all night if I have to,” Cassian added, as though sensing her train of thought.

Feyre recalled when Cassian had first started training her. When she had been so lost inside herself, and the only way her friend had known to draw her out was by giving her something to punch. Over and over again, until she’d ruined the sparring pads, and Cassian had offered her his own bare hands.

It should have been me.

She imagined this was his own way of doing that. Pushing his body because it would distract his mind. It was the one thing he could control, the one way he could help his brothers when Feyre knew that every fiber of his being was likely screaming for him to fly to Hybern and make things right. Feyre didn’t know what else to offer him, so she said nothing, letting him fly them across Winter. She only hoped her heavy heart didn’t add to the weight he carried.

The sunset eventually offered a new set of challenges.

Darkness crept, slowly and stealthily, over the skyline. And once the daylight had been fully eradicated, navigation became much more difficult. But what was worse, the temperature dropped.

Cassian continued flying without complaint. The exertion was keeping him warm, she was sure. The Illyrian leathers she wore, though rumpled and stiff from her tumble through the sea, were at least fur-lined. But they were hardly equipped for a night spent in Winter’s mountain range. A shiver was already working up her spine. She clenched her teeth so they wouldn’t chatter.

Feyre would try, for Cassian’s sake, to endure the cold.

It must not have been very convincing, because Cassian swore. “We’re almost to the Middle.”

The thought wasn’t very reassuring to Feyre. The Middle was filled with dangerous creatures that crawled out at night. There would be nowhere safe to stop, and then she would need to wait until Dawn to convince him to rest. What if he became too exhausted before then? Feyre imagined them plummeting into a bog, having to fight off the creatures of the middle through physical force alone.

It was time to make a decision as High Lady, even if Cassian wouldn’t like it.

Just as Feyre opened her mouth, Cassian stiffened. She gasped against a blast of air as they made a sudden dive toward the icy, snow-dusted plains below. They slammed into the frozen earth with such force that a cloud of frost burst upwards on the impact. She worried it was powerful enough to crack the ice, but it held strong as Cassian dropped her—carefully—to her feet.

“Cass, what—”

He was staring over her shoulder, and she cut herself off to turn in the direction of his gaze, where darkness was erupting from a vacant space in the air, unfurling night and star-swept smoke and, eventually, the sight of her mate’s rumpled hair and wide violet eyes. There was no smug half-smile waiting for her, just open distress that faded into soul-wrenching relief the moment their eyes met.

The sound that came out of her was choked, like some garbled thought had gotten stuck in her thickening throat. Maybe it was her body trying to purge every word she’d tried to send to him while the bond had been muted. I’m okay and are you safe and how are my sisters and I’m so sorry that they took Az.

But foremost, always foremost, was I love you. I’ve missed you so much.

It was all Feyre could do not to drop immediately to her knees in the snow. Somehow, she managed to scramble across the ice, slipping from the momentum as she barrelled into her mate’s waiting arms.

Rhys caught her easily, pulling her firmly against his warm chest. He was shaking, or maybe that was the winter frost still trembling in her bones, beginning to thaw as she buried her face in his neck and inhaled the scent of citrus-and-sea. A broad hand tangled in the back of her hair, cradling her against him as his other began roaming over her neck, her shoulders, her back. Searching for injury or simply convincing himself that she was real.

“Thank the fucking Cauldron,” he breathed. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

And that must have been all he was holding on to, because as soon as he finished speaking, Rhysand’s knees buckled, dropping them both to the ground. Ice stung Feyre through her leathers, but she didn’t care. She wove her numb fingers into his hair, lifting her head to look into his face.

Feyre was not used to looking at him without feeling the mating bond tethering their minds together, always providing her with an inkling of what her mate was thinking, feeling. She didn’t need it now to see the warring anguish and relief and love glistening beneath the layer of unshed tears that collected at his lashes. He was doing a better job keeping them contained than she was. Feyre was only aware that her tears had begun slipping freely past her cheeks once he cupped her face in his large hands and swept his thumb across to chase them away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. For failing the mission, for leaving Azriel behind, for making Rhys worry.

He continued stroking her cheek in a gentle rhythm, slow and steady, as he scanned his eyes over her face, her dirty clothes. A shadow passed over his features, more of that anguish he couldn’t hide from her. Even without the bond.

“Azriel did precisely what I asked him to,” he said, voice rough. Cassian must have told him, then, or maybe he had drawn the memory from her mind. “We all knew the risks. He decided to make a sacrifice for his court and we…” he took a deep, shuddering breath that dispersed into a cloud of winter air. Then another. Like the next words were painful to him. “We will recuperate and move when the time is right.”

“They won’t kill him,” Cassian said, standing a small distance behind to offer them privacy. Snow crunched under his boots as he walked closer. “They’ll probably make the bastard wish he was dead, but they’ll keep him alive. He’s too valuable.”

It was far from comforting to imagine Azriel being tortured for information. Just the thought of what they might inflict on him, if it were even a sliver of what she’d seen him do to others, to the Attor. Feyre felt suddenly like she’d be sick.

Rhysand nodded grimly. “We’ll get him back. And Hybern will pay for every ounce of blood.” Then her mate was scooping her into his arms, standing in one smooth movement. “For now, I’m grateful that you’re safe.” He turned to Cassian and offered his brother a small, sad smile. “That you’re both safe.”

Cassian didn’t smile in turn, but he did reach his arm out to clasp Rhys firmly, and affectionately, on the shoulder. “Let’s go home,” he said, more like a plea than any of them would acknowledge.

They disappeared into a cloud of smoke, and soon the blistering alpine air gave way to the scent of burning oak crackling in a hearth. Rhys set Feyre down on the carpet in the foyer, though he quickly caught her hand to thread her fingers through his own, unable to resist touching her. She eyed the rooms flanking the foyer, taking in the familiar sights and smells of their home. The brine of the Sidra drifting through the open window, spices wafting from the open door that led to the kitchen, and… the scents of their family. Of Rhys, mostly, and his brothers. But she could also detect the soft, floral hint of Elain, the unyielding fire and steel of Nesta.

Feyre hesitated, peering towards the door to the sitting room, uncertain what version of her sisters waited for her. An Elain that stared absently out the window, a Nesta who was angry with the world?

She turned to her mate. “My sisters,” she said, quietly. “Are they…”

Rhysand nodded toward the sitting room. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

The distance between Feyre and that doorway felt suddenly like a gaping chasm. She stumbled before it, uncertain how to cross, but her sisters had already heard them come in. They rushed to wedge themselves into the doorframe—both of them, screeching to a halt on the other side of that great distance between them.

The seconds stretched into eternity as Feyre stared at her sisters and they stared back. Dressed in fae clothing, their eyes wide and ears upturned.

It was Elain who took the first step, as she always would in the unending push and pull of their sisterhood. The sea and the moon and the vast, all-seeing horizon that allowed them to meet in the middle. On occasion.

Elain ventured forward, stopping half way with her hand pressed to her lips to stifle a cry as she whispered, “We thought you were dead.”

Then it was Nesta, pushing onwards with Elain at her heel. Her lips were pressed together as she studied Feyre’s rumpled appearance. The braid that had faced battle then ocean then wind.

Feyre studied her back. Searching for any sense of that eerie power Nesta had taken from the Cauldron before.

“You look like Hell,” Nesta said.

Elain shot her a disapproving look. But Feyre understood what she meant: you look like you’ve been through a lot. And deeper under that, I was worried about you.

“You look…” Feyre swallowed. Her tears were already returning. “You look like yourselves.”

Not the sisters from before. Hollowed and aimless and angry at the world. They looked like the sisters she had known from this time, the ones who had been a bit more prepared for Prythian, who had thrown themselves into the Cauldron. For her.

“Thank you,” she said, before plummeting forward. Closing that final distance between them to throw her hands around both their shoulders. Nesta stiffened and Elain hugged her back fiercely and Feyre felt finally as if she’d accomplished something great in this timeline as she whispered, voice breaking, “I love you both.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she had said it to them. Had she ever?

They didn’t say it back, though Elain did hiccup softly, her fingers burying into Feyre’s shoulder. And that was okay. They didn’t need to say it, they had proved it. They had traded their humanity, overcame everything they’d once believed about the fae because she had turned up scared and honest at their doorstep.

Nesta gasped in her ear. Feyre pulled back, thinking that she was crying, but it wasn’t tears that swam in her eyes as she stared over Feyre’s shoulder.

It was something else.

“Nes…” Cassian said. The syllable eked out of him like weight shifting onto a creaky floorboard. There was no lightness to his voice. No humor.

The General of the Night Court staggered forward when his eyes met Nesta’s. Then he stopped, straightening as if remembering himself. Even with the soldier’s rigidity he forced into his spine, Feyre thought he still looked moments from dropping to his knees.

Nesta didn’t move to him. She stayed where she was, even after Feyre released her from the hug. Eyes so guarded, like distant fortresses of ice. She scraped them over Cassian, assessing him, tensing her body like she was preparing to defend, to attack. With her hair swept into an elegant braided crown, there was nothing to hide the delicate pointed tip of both her ears, nor the way Cassian’s eyes gravitated towards them.

He swallowed. Feyre had the sense that Nesta’s decision had been a sacrifice for more than just her sisters. And that Cassian’s reaction would define whether it had been worth it.

Finally he said, in that same strained voice, “Did you do something different with your hair?”

It wasn’t a complete transformation, but Nesta’s expression softened in response. She pushed past Feyre and Elain, moving with the same grace she had always possessed, though now it felt sharpened. All that lethal might and fluid grace that Nesta had been honing for years, finally contained in a body that could wield it properly. Growing into herself, the way a child grows into a pair of oversized gloves.

Cassian stood, a soldier at attention, as Nesta approached. Like he worried any sudden movement might ward her off. But the piercing look in her eyes, far from volatile or skittish, told Feyre that her sister would not be easily swayed from this path. She moved towards him with purpose, and Cassian met it unflinching—but more than that, awed. Overwhelmed. Feyre wondered if that was what she had looked like, the first time she’d seen the daylight after those months Under the Mountain. Or when she’d met Rhys, on Calanmai.

Like his world had ended and begun as Nesta raised a hand and placed it over his chest. Still, he didn’t move. Only watched, lips parted open, as Nesta pushed onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

That seemed to be his undoing.

Cassian’s posture crumpled, arms moving as if on impulse, finding Nesta’s waist to tug her closer. He bowed his head forward until it rested on her shoulder.

“Cass,” Nesta murmured. With a gentleness Feyre had only ever heard directed towards Elain.

“I just need a minute,” he said.

Rhys chose that moment to slip around them, looking harrowed himself as he herded Elain and Feyre quietly into the next room. Elain, who might usually have filled the silence with pleasantries, had an aimless look about her as she claimed an armchair by the window.

Feyre admired the way ribbons of moonlight poured over her sister’s features from the large window that overlooked the city, shining like a polish against her ivory skin. There was no denying that Elain’s ethereal beauty had only been heightened by the transformation. But for a moment all Feyre could see were brown eyes, once hollow, staring vacantly towards the city. In the back of her mind, she could hear Elain whispering, we were supposed to be married next week.

Feyre couldn’t resist asking. “Are you happy with it? Your choice.”

Elain turned, blinking rapidly like she’d been startled back into her body. Then those warm eyes focused on Feyre, and she offered a small smile.

“It feels…” Elain started thoughtfully, flickering her attention to the tips of her fingers as she stretched her arm outwards. “It feels familiar in a way I don’t know how to explain. It’s a little overwhelming, but even so… I feel settled. Like I am one step closer to knowing myself.”

Her eyes turned back toward the city, lips curling downwards.

“I can hear his heart,” Elain said. The admission was so quiet that Feyre wondered if she should be hearing it, until Elain turned back to her, eyes wide with concern. “Is that normal, for mates?”

“I…” Feyre looked towards Rhys for guidance. She could hear his heart often, but not once he was in another room, let alone a different Court. Did that mean the Cauldron had granted Elain Sight once more? Or was it simply a unique quality of her bond with Lucien?

Elain’s eyes turned glassy. She pressed her hand to her chest, like she could feel it now. “I’ve been listening for him, but that’s all I hear.”

“If you can hear his heartbeat, that means he’s safe,” Feyre said, sympathetic. “And if you hear or see anything else that might be helpful, let us know.”

Her sister nodded, before turning back towards the window. Feyre wondered if it had been difficult witnessing Nesta’s reunion with Cassian. Cauldron knew how long it would be until Elain could have that moment with Lucien.

“Go rest,” Elain said, drawing her legs up into her chest. “I take it you’ve had a long journey. Your mate has been worrying a hole into every inch of this carpet.”

Rhys, behind her, scraped out a laugh for Elain’s benefit, but it was weighed down. He had been so patient in letting her have this moment with her sisters, knowing Feyre needed the reassurance that they were okay. But Rhysand wasn’t—nor were his brothers. A cautious look over her shoulder showed her mate’s face, edged towards a devastation she knew he was trying very hard to contain. It had always been easier when it was his own life at stake, but now they had so many people to protect. So many to lose.

Was this their fate? That one trio of siblings would always be fractured? Feyre tried not to dwell on that as she took her mate by the hand, leaving Elain in the sitting room with an apologetic grimace. Elain looked like she appreciated the privacy, anyhow.

With Feyre’s magic still dormant and Rhysand passive beneath her guidance, they walked to their bedroom the human way. Step by step, with none of the urgency they normally possessed. Even without their bond, she could sense her mate retreating into his mind. Perhaps he was relishing in the absent bridge between their minds, so that this anguish could remain his own. She wondered what she would find. A howling void, if it were anything like what she felt watching her sisters go into the Cauldron. A raging, dark tempest.

She decided not to interrupt the silence, merely guiding her mate to the bed. He was pliant as she arranged them, coaxing his head to her chest, hoping that even in the dark recesses of his mind he would hear her heartbeat and know she was with him.

There was no magic to comfort, no darkness or starlight or wings she could wrap him in. Just her arms, her scent, her wordless love. It wouldn’t be enough to soothe the pain of what he lost, but it was all they had to hold onto. So Feyre stroked her fingers through his silken hair and Rhysand held her back, tightly. Holding each other in silence for minutes, or hours.

And eventually he murmured, “I know what I need to do, as a High Lord. But I feel lost on what to do, as a brother. It would make me a damned fool to try and break him out of Hybern. But all I want to do is go back there and bargain my own life for his, if that’s what it takes.”

“He would be furious if you did,” Feyre said.

“I know. And I know that this is how they felt, all those years I was Under the Mountain.”

“But you came back,” she whispered. “Against all hope, all odds. They got you back. And we’ll get Az back, too.”

Rhysand nodded absently. Feyre wondered if he’d heard her at all as his jaw worked, restraining all that black, vicious anger that lived behind his eyes. She could already see him calculating, trying to determine the best route forward. A glimpse of the boy from Windhaven, bloodied and bruised, pulling himself up to get back in the training ring.

For his brothers, she knew he would keep getting back in. Again and again and again. As many times as it took. And this time, he wouldn’t be going in alone.

Feyre woke to the sun breaking through the curtains, arriving steadily, just as it had every morning since the moment she woke up in the Spring Court. Even now, its warm rays broke through the frost crawling over the window pane, reaching towards Feyre and her slumbering mate to say, get up.

This was the hardest part—getting back up.

It wasn’t enough to face the wreckage once. To let it be done. They had to pull themselves together and face it again. And again. Every day, pulling them steadily towards that inevitable convergence.

At least her mate was with her. Strong arms, banded securely across her waist. They were tangled, Rhysand’s face pressed into her chest, his inky hair spilling over her shoulder, her collarbone. She had been worried he wouldn’t sleep through the night. Or worse, that he would have left, flown all the way back to Hybern to fight for Azriel.

But he was there, bathed lovingly in the sunlight. His chest rose as he took a slow breath, reminding her to do the same. She needed to be strong for him. For all of them. Inhale. Like Cassian had taught her. Exhale.

Feyre pushed her fingers through Rhysand’s hair, scraping her nails gently against his scalp to wake him. She felt guilty doing so, to force him back into this cruel reality when he looked so peaceful in his sleep.

Violet eyes peeled open. He blinked at her, then shut them, arms tightening around her. Resisting. Feyre took another deep breath, continued stroking her fingers through his hair until he relaxed, until he raised his head and murmured a hoarse, “Good morning, darling.”

It didn’t feel like a good morning.

Feyre didn’t realize she’d said it down the bond until she heard the soft caress of his laughter, more restrained than usual, though it still made her chest flutter. I suppose your magic is back.

Her magic, but more importantly, their bond. She knew he felt as relieved to have it back as she did, because Feyre kissed him and he sighed. Rhys kissed her back fiercely, reaching down the bond so he could hold her there, too. This at least made sense to their bodies. This, at least, felt good. Reminded them that they were alive, and that the glowing thread Feyre could feel shimmering between them once again was something that no one could take away. Not Amarantha, not Hybern, not even the Cauldron.

She opened her mind to him, letting their minds entwine in tandem with their bodies. They made love beneath the beaconing dawn, every touch aimed to comfort, to reassure, to lend the strength they needed to get back up together.

It was midmorning by the time they made it to the breakfast table, hand in hand, uncertain who was pulling who. The others had already assembled, gathered around the dining table, silent as they picked at a plate of fresh pastries that Feyre could guess Elain had gotten up early to make.

Mor was there, staring at her uneaten pastry. She raised her head as they came in, red-rimmed eyes meeting Feyre’s. She offered a tight smile that was much closer to a grimace. Miryam was on the bench beside her, looking in much better health than Feyre had last seen her. That, at least, was reassuring.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Miryam said, suppressing a shiver. “I never want to feel magic like that again.”

That much, they could agree on. Though Feyre knew as she flitted her eyes to her sisters, sat together on the opposite side of the table, that they would need to feel that magic again. Very soon.

“We were all worried sick about you,” Mor added, surprising Feyre by reaching for her arm. She offered an affectionate squeeze—forgiveness, or perhaps an apology. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

She meant it, too. Even if the sorrow in Mor’s eyes made Feyre wish she were drowning again.

“Where’s Cass?” Rhysand asked, causing them all to stiffen at his tone.

“He wasn’t at the House of Wind this morning,” Mor said with a shrug. “I assumed he was—” with Nesta. Mor didn’t need to say it. The way she pressed her lips together, glancing towards Feyre’s eldest sister, said enough.

“I haven’t seen him since last night,” Nesta said, words razor sharp at the unspoken accusation. She grabbed a pastry, playing at indifference as she ripped a chunk of it away. “He said that he needed to leave. I thought he was going back to the war camp.”

Rhysand swore. Mor stood up, a hand over her mouth.

“He wouldn’t,” she said, face turning ashen.

Nesta’s eyes flickered between Mor and Rhysand, some of that anger curbing. Her brows pushed in, worrying at that small piece of pastry between her fingers until it was reduced to crumbs.

Rhys disappeared before anyone could discuss going with him—and that finally pulled Feyre out of her shock. She reached towards the space her mate had just occupied, lips parting open. Then closing. He was… gone.

“Oh, these stupid, impulsive Illryians!” Mor shouted, shaking the table as she slammed her hands against it. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

“What happened?” Nesta asked with a viciousness that was more fae-like than she probably even realized.

Feyre rubbed her temples. She reached for Rhys, scrambling against his mental walls. They stood firmly in place, allowing nothing to slip through.

“Cassian went after Azriel,” Mor said. “And now Rhys has gone after them both.”

I’m not mad, Feyre said down the bond. How could she be, when both of his brothers were in danger? But please, please, be smart. Be safe. Come home to me.

“When did he leave?” Mor demanded.

“It was the middle of the night,” Nesta said, more retreated. She wrapped her arms around her chest, face burning as she added, “Two o’clock—maybe three.”

He would have needed to fly all night, to have gotten to Hybern. After having already done so much flying. What was he thinking? By the time he got to the island, he’d be too exhausted to fight.

Feyre debated going after them. The two of them alone, against Hybern’s men and his magic and the Cauldron. She started pacing, weighing the best strategy, trying to think like her mate—even if he, himself, wasn’t thinking practically. The troops were already stationed in Summer, maybe they could advance. No. The Cauldron at full force would wipe out too many of them.

She felt well and truly like she was on the verge of a breakdown by the time her mate reappeared with Cassian slumped over his shoulders. A rush of darkness brushed everything off the table, sending the plates crashing to the wooden floor. Rhys heaved Cassian onto his back atop the table, who groaned.

“You stupid prick!” Rhys snarled, grabbing him by the collar and shaking. “What were you thinking?”

Cassian’s wings splayed out, covering almost the entire width of the dining room. They were littered with arrows, dripping blood and salty water onto the floor.

“I needed to get him back,” Cassian said through gritted teeth. His face was pinched, dirt sticking to his cheek and brow. Feyre felt everything go quiet as she surveyed his labored, wet breathing and her eyes dipped to the split flesh arching up from his navel to the bottom of his sternum—too deep for Rhysand to heal, though Feyre could see he was trying.

“Get Madja,” Rhys said to Mor.

It was a stone cold, unfeeling command. Rage was seeping out of her mate in dark tendrils, coiling through the room until even the sunlight dimmed.

Feyre swayed. Unprepared for the sight of the gore and the fear it struck deep inside her. Somewhere far in the back of her mind, she was aware of Mor rushing out of the room, of Elain and Miryam following.

A hand closed tightly around her elbow. Nesta, watching with her lips pressed together as Rhys moved his hands over Cassian, trying to stave off the blood. Bile surged in Feyre’s throat at the sight of that raw flesh. Her bones creaked beneath Nesta’s grip.

“Do you think I didn’t want to go after him too?” Rhys was saying, teeth bared. His hands were covered in blood—so much blood. “Do you think I don’t know what they’re going to do to him?”

“You’re needed… here,” Cassian choked, the words mostly gargled. “I’m just—a soldier.”

“Just a soldier?” Rhys echoed, all that lethal anger sharpening. Even on the brink of consciousness, Feyre could see Cassian stiffen. “You are my brother. You are my general. I can’t…” Rhysand’s voice softened as he watched Cassian’s eyelids flutter shut. “I can’t do this without you. So you better not die, you fucking bastard. That’s an order.”

Cassian huffed, the only indication he was still conscious.

In the distance, Feyre could hear the door open. Then Madja rushed in, Mor at her heels. Rhys moved aside to let the healer take stock of the wounds. Madja was frowning, but her expression was not so grave that Feyre worried he wouldn’t make it.

She went to work quickly, brows bunching in concentration as her hands flared with glowing white light. They all fell into silence as they watched Madja work, their attention fixed on the healer’s every movement as her hands roamed over Cassian’s body. The lips of the wounds, mercifully, began to reach towards each other, knitting shut.

“Is…” Nesta bit her lip. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Madja said. Nesta’s shoulders sagged. “He’ll need a few days rest. No training. Or flying.” She scowled at the red line across his stomach. “Or throwing himself in front of swords.”

“What happened?” Feyre asked, turning to Rhys.

His anger hadn’t curbed. She could still see it simmering in his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. “He didn’t even make it to land before they shot him down.” Feyre’s eyes fell back to those arrows through his wings. “He landed on the Northernmost peak, who knows how long he’d been fighting before I got there. The bastard had that wound in his gut and was still taking men down. They pushed him off the cliff just as I got there.”

And indeed, looking at her mate she could see his wet hair hanging down his face. He trekked sand and seawater across the dining room as he came to stand in front of her. His eyes glowed, like lightning had struck an ocean. Nesta’s eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

Feyre asked, softly, Are you angry that Cassian got hurt? Or that you weren’t the one who went after Az?

Her mate stared. Jaw clenched. Say what you mean.

That tone. The cold rage, the sharpness. Feyre wasn’t used to hearing it directed towards her.

She brushed her mind against his, gentle. Are you angry at Cassian, or yourself?

Rhysand looked away, which was all the answer she needed.

Come, Feyre murmured, grabbing one of his blood-crusted hands. Rhys flinched. Let’s get you cleaned up, and leave Madja to her work.

It was all of a week before Cassian was well enough to join the morning training sessions. Feyre was grateful he was healed for a multitude of reasons, among them being that she finally had company on the training ring.

Convincing Rhys to join her in the last week had been… difficult. He and Cassian had quickly made up, but every day that passed weighed on him. It was another day that Azriel was in Hybern’s hands, subjected to the King’s will.

Her mate was restless—they all were.

“I’m surprised you were able to sneak past Nesta,” Feyre said in greeting.

Cassian grinned as he strolled into the ring, flexing his arms. “Who would've thought a flesh wound would be enough to earn this much attention?”

A flesh wound was a mild way of putting it, Feyre thought. And Nesta had certainly been attentive. Though her sister would deny it, Feyre didn’t think she’d seen Nesta leave his side for the duration of his bedrest.

“I assume it’s too soon to practice with swords,” she teased, reaching for a pair of fighting sticks.

“Depends on who will be swinging them,” Cassian said. “I trust you not to gut me.”

Feyre lobbed one of the sticks at him and he deftly reached out to catch it in midair.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” she teased. “You did take the last pastry at breakfast.”

“Oh?” Cassian dropped into a fighting stance, spinning the stick expertly around his knuckles. “Come get even then, High Lady.”

Just as Feyre was about to charge, the center of the ring erupted into darkness, and out stepped Rhys. He was frowning, a letter crushed in his fist.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked, drawing up short.

Rhys passed the letter to him, saying, “Eris Vanserra has requested an immediate audience. He says that the Autumn Court has Azriel, and they’re willing to negotiate a trade.”

[beausling]

garden

pairing: bucky barnes x fem oc

this is a song fic inspired by ‘garden song’ by phoebe bridgers. each section between lyrics is a different memory from their life together.

warnings: modern college au, very brief mention of severe weather, brief implications of body image issues and insecurities, brief non-detailed description and talk of injuries, amnesia, house fire (no injury or death), NIMBLE IS OKAY!!!, angst, fluff, kinda hurt/comfort ??, avalon and steve have the cutest friendship ever, crumbs of avasam and peppalon bffism if you squint, brief mention of buckys fuckboy era, implied smut, a teeny tiny splash of drunk!steve, swearing, bucky and avalon are both a bit unwell in the head, implications of ptsd but if you dont have ptsd yourself then you probably wont catch it, bittersweet open-ended ending, i think thats all but lmk if i need to add more !!

this is NOT betaed!! i did proofread before posting, but im also dyslexic so if theres still any errors thats why.

all work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!!!

Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

as they stood at the lookout deep in the catskills watching the sunset, buckys arms wrapped around her waist, avalon couldn’t help but be in complete awe. no matter how many times they’d come here to watch the sunset, or wait in the car with bated breath while the severe weather alert blared through the speakers as nearly black clouds quickly filtered into the valley, it never failed to make her gape with child-like wonder at the vast horizon.

“i’ve seen this view so many times, and it still feels surreal every time…”

“i know…” bucky whispered back, voice slightly muffled as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“it’s gorgeous…”

bucky raised his head to look at her, then to the view in front of them… the crystal blue reservoir below, narrow bridge crossing it in the distance, mountains for miles and the breathtaking pink and orange sky. He looked back to her and smiled.

the same view in front of them, he also held in his arms: her dyed bright orange hair, ‘i want to look like a pumpkin’ were avalons exact words when bucky found her dying it in the guest bathroom at 2am on a random wednesday. it wasn’t even fall yet, but she was just too excited to wait until october hit. the peaks and plateaus of her in the form of her body; the slope of her neck, the valley between her breasts, the curves of her waist, the dip in her hips, the bend of her knees. the bridge of her nose that she hated so much, uneven from one too many breaks never being fixed. bucky didn’t care, he loved all of her, so he’d kiss it anyways. and down to her blue-green eyes, perfection in his because they were the colors of mother nature. god, how he could always get lost in them.

“not as much as you though.” avalon let out a laugh at his comment. so cheesy, she thought.

she turned in his arms, pure adoration in buckys eyes as he stared back at her, and avalon swore in that moment she sunk further into the home she’d made for herself in his heart.

“okay, pretty boy.” she smirked, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.

And when your skinhead neighbor goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard, then

it was the peak of spring. prime planting season, the wintery frost that usually covered the rural new york landscape during the cold months no longer invaded their yard.

bucky realized he hadn’t seen avalon most of the day, at least not since breakfast, and it was nearing 3pm. he thought she might’ve been in the green room, but nope. no head of messy strawberry blonde hair in sight. but then he heard it, loud and clear, that frustrated groan that filtered in through the front door, and bucky automatically knew what was going on. it was on their calendar and avalon hadn’t been able to stop talking about it for weeks; it was planting season, the end of the frost!

bucky made his way outside, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“hey, doll.”

“hi!” avalon jumped excitedly at the sound of his voice.

“what are you doing?” he already knew, but he had to play in. talking about her gardens of flowers, her pride and joy, always made her buzz with happiness. bucky felt grateful enough that she let him witness it.

“it’s planting season!” she said with a bright smile.

“oh, of course.” bucky said in a mock forgetful tone as he descended the front steps of her home — their home now.

avalon held up two small bags of seeds to bucky as she asked, “should i do pink or white peonies?”

“pink, obviously!” he replied, as if it weren’t already a given she had to plant pink peonies because ‘thems the rules!’

“obviously…” avalon rolled her eyes, already knowing what bucky was thinking, as if she could simply see into his mind.

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

the spring festival always filled avalon with joy. participating in the parade almost every year since she was three, while her mother and father usually manned their tent as vendors, along with her fathers brother who owned a brewery.

this would be buckys first year attending. it was basically his initiation, as avalon and her mom had put it.

“oh, my god… buck, look at the flower floats!” avalon beamed, her chest surging with joy. i can’t believe i was able to contribute to something so beautiful, she thought.

“they’re pretty.” bucky whispered back in her ear holding her tightly to his chest, watching the gorgeous floats filled with a plethora of flowers roll past.

“those are my roses…” she said timidly, pointing to the corral truck, all bright smiles and shining eyes. it was covered in at least a few hundred rose buds of varying colors.

“what?” buckys eyes went wide as he released his grip on her waist and she turned to face him with a shy smile. “and you didn’t tell me?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise!”

his smile shown brighter than the stars, and avalon couldn’t help but smile back the same way. bucky grabbed her waist, hoisting her up in the air and spinning her around as she laughed.

“i’m so proud of you!” he shouted, flooding her face with kisses all over.

I grew up here 'til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

it was like a scene from a movie. avalon swore everything was going in slow motion as her feet came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street. her mind racing a thousand miles a minute, but one thing was clear through all the haze… nimble. avalon ran straight for the blazing house.

“ma’am, please. you need to stand back.” a firefighter said as he held her back with his strong arm.

“but that’s my home! my dog is still inside!” she screamed back.

“i understand, but-“

“my dog is in there — my entire life is!” avalon was a complete mess. she knew this man was just trying to do his job, and she was extremely grateful for that, but she wouldn’t know what to do if she lost nimble. the tiny, almost fourteen year old beagle had been her best friend since she was nine.

“listen, i understand this is an incredibly difficult, and stressful situation…but you need to stay back and let us do our job.” the firefighter said with a firm nod of his head, going back to his position.

“oh god…” avalon took a step back, watching as her childhood home was consumed by the red inferno.

she fell to her knees, praying to a god she wasn’t even sure she believed in, until she heard a small voice in the back of her head. it kind of sounded like her grandma. ‘nimble will be fine, that little guy is as resilient as dinosaur bones’

not even a minute later does she look back up to see him dashing through the yard, the tiny hound, her best friend.

“nimble!” avalon sprung to her feet and raced towards him, right passed the firefighter who was telling her just minutes before to stay back.

“hey!” he yelled, trying to grab for her as she zoomed past, but failing miserably.

avalon fell to the sidewalk and scooped nimble up the second he was in arms reach, holding him tightly to her and crying.

she felt a crinkle against her chest. she looked down, and sure enough, nimble held a small brown canvas bag in his mouth marked peonies.

“anything to live up to your name, huh?” avalon said through sniffles as she removed the bag from his mouth, stuffing it into her jacket pocket and gently petting his head.

I don't know when you got taller

See our reflection in the water

everything was stressing her out. steve was so adamant that bucky would come back, and deep down avalon knew that he had to be right…he had to be, steve was buckys best friend since the dawn of time, he knew him better than anyone else. but avalon just couldn’t bring it from within herself to truly believe what the blonde was telling her.

so when avalon disappeared out of nowhere one afternoon, it was safe to say the whole group flipped the entire city upside down trying to find her. how could a girl from the catskills burrow herself so deep into manhattan when she barely even knew the city?

of course, steve being steve, he found her first because he knew all the right places to look. soho, the brooklyn bridge and riverside park. he should’ve known she’d be by the pier.

“darling?” steve called out softly. he’d know that flannel and shaggy blue hair anywhere.

avalon turned around to see her favorite of buckys friends. really, they were her friends too now. “oh… hey, steve.” she sniffled and wiped her tears away as she turned back to the water, leaning on the rail.

“we’ve all been looking everywhere for you…for two hours” there wasn’t even the slightest pinch of malice in his voice. steve wasn’t angry at all, he was concerned.

“i know, i’m sorry i scared you guys… i just needed to be alone” steve approached, standing to her right, leaning on the rail with her.

“so you came to the river?”

“buck and i, we… we used to walk the path almost every morning, so i figured… i figured no one would find me here, i guess.” avalon stared down at her morphing reflection in the hudson, steves next to her… she wished so bad that it was bucky.

“in a very public area, no one would find you?” steves gaze could burn holes through the side of her face.

she finally looked back at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes just threatening to spill over. “hey, i’m a very easy person to ignore… clearly.” she answered in a sarcastic tone.

“avi…” steves entire demeanor shifted at her indication. he knew exactly what she meant.

avalon had quickly become one of steves closest friends, right next to sam and nat. he was loyal to a fault, so he’d do anything to protect his friends from harm, but he felt useless in this situation.

“it’s fine…” avalon said dismissively with a small, sad smile. being at her and buckys spot, looking out at the same view they always did together, brought back a lot.

Off a bridge at the Huntington

I hopped the fence when I was seventeen

she stared up at the seven foot tall chainlink fence with fear. how the fuck was she supposed to climb this thing?

“ava, come on!” noah yelled from the other side.

“guys, i don’t think i can do it!” she pulled her jacket tighter around her waist, not sure if the shaking in her limbs was caused by anxiety, or the cold air that seemed to permanently swirl at night during autumn in the catskills.

“come on, don’t be a scaredy cat!” oliver teased.

avalon thought it over in her head. it wasn’t that scary, the worst that could possibly happen is falling on her ass. “alright, alright…”

so she started climbing the metal links, just as she’d seen noah and oliver do before her. at one point, close to the top, she lost her footing and almost fell. in a quick recovery she pulled herself up, swinging her legs over the top and jumping to the ground when she made it halfway down.

“see? it wasn’t that hard.” oliver said, patting her shoulder with a smirk.

“yeah” avalon smiled back. in her distracted state she didn’t realize at first that oliver had tagged her, until he started running up the hilly path.

shock spread through her face as she looked over at noah, then he started running too.

“oh, you’re gonna get it oli!” avalon yelled as she began chasing after them both.

she gained a newfound confidence that night, pride surging through her chest. there was nothing she couldn’t do.

Then I knew what I wanted

this conversation had been a long time coming. neither of them knowing the other felt the same way, but avalon wanted this so bad. it was the next step. bucky wanted it too, but he would never ask her to drop her life in catskill to move to the city. it was tug of war.

“i couldn’t ever ask you to leave your home. i mean-“ avalon cut him off. what is this kid not understanding, she thought.

“but you’re not asking me to…i’m telling you, i want to live with you in brooklyn.”

“but catskill is your home! you feel the same way about it that i feel about brooklyn!” bucky just couldn’t understand. maybe it was because he’d never been in a relationship as serious as this. maybe it was because he believed it when his intrusive thoughts told him she didn’t really feel the same way about him. but boy, was he wrong.

“my home is with you, bucky.” she said firmly.

that was the moment he saw it. he saw the same look in avalons eyes that steve always told bucky he had when he was looking at her. it filled his chest with both joy and fear.

And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up

From my phone and see my life

when steve got a call from sam the night before saying him and tony had found bucky, it wasn’t what him and avalon expected.

they raced to the hospital on steves motorcycle. upon arrival, avalon jumped off before they even came to a full stop, throwing the helmet off and running inside.

she spotted sam and tony in the waiting room, “where is he?”

“ava…” sam said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. a lump caught in her throat at the tone in his voice.

“what happened?” her words came out barely above a whisper.

“you guys might wanna sit down…” tony spoke up. avalon hadn’t noticed steve come in, or tony hugging him comfortingly before.

the fear was clear in her eyes as she looked between all of them, sam ushering her into a seat as tony went to find the doctor so she could explain it all better.

everything sounded muffled, like she was under water. the word ‘amnesia’ rang in her head. it was the only thing she could really catch the doctor say before she was having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

And it's gonna be just like my recurring dream

I'm at the movies, I don't remember what I'm seeing

bucky had been in the hospital for a few weeks now. avalon hadn’t been able to find the courage to see him, when on the first night sam came out of the room with shaky hands, proclaiming bucky wasn’t able to remember who he was. so far it seemed bucky wasn’t able to remember anything past age twenty.

steve went to the hospital to see bucky almost every day, and this particularly grueling morning he all but forced avalon to finally go with him.

“just because he might not remember you right now, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want to see you.” steve said. she knew he was trying to comfort her, but it wasn’t really working. they’d been sitting on a bench just outside the main entrance of the hospital for almost thirty minutes now, and she wasn’t past waiting another thirty just to spite them both. it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her.

before she could even realize what was happening, steve was dragging her inside and pulling her into the elevator.

“you’re mean, you know that?” avalon said as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall.

“it’s only the fifth time you’ve said it today.” steve chuckled.

as soon as the elevator doors slid open, steve was dragging her around again.

“i can walk, steve. my legs work just fine.” avalon huffed out.

“yeah, and as soon as i let go of you, you’re just gonna run for the hills… literally.” steve quipped back. avalon simply rolled her eyes at him in response.

when they got to the door avalon felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air was being callously pulled from her lungs. steve felt her tense.

“it’s gonna be okay, avi. i promise.” steve gave her a warm, comforting smile.

“no it’s not.” she whispered back, tears already filling her eyes.

“yes it-“

“steve, he doesn’t know me.”

“he may not be able to remember you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know you.”

deep down, avalon knew he was right. she knew it, but that still didn’t mean she believed it right now.

“you ready?” steve asked.

“no.” with that, steve held her hand tightly as they walked into buckys hospital room, avalon guarding herself behind his broad back.

“buck? you up?”

“hey, stevie!” and avalons heart nearly shattered. it was the first time she’d heard his voice in over a month, and it was almost like the first time again. “who’s that hiding behind you?”

her knees began to buckle under all the stress she’d been carrying with her. she leaned against steves back for support, taking in jagged breaths.

steve turned around quickly, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. “do you wanna go say hi to him?”

“i don’t think i can even look at him without bursting into tears.” she whispered against his chest.

“you’re already in here though, right?” she nodded.

“steve?” he sounded thoroughly confused. avalon could imagine bucky was probably doing his signature puppy dog eyes/head tilt combo, she giggled at the thought of it. steve smiled.

“yeah, buck?”

“who is that? oh, my god, wait, no, don’t tell me… is that your girlfriend?” bucky smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. steve immediately went red as a avalon let out a howl of a laugh.

“ewww!” “what- no- she- she’s not…” avalon and steve spoke at the same time.

“literally fucking barf…” avalon spoke through giggles. “no offense, steve.”

“no, none taken.” he chuckled.

avalon finally looked up at bucky, and he still had that same smirk on his face. she swore it almost knocked her off her feet.

“hmm, i don’t know if i believe it…” bucky said in a sing-song voice.

“trust me, killer. steves definitely not my guy.” she said, slowly approaching his bed.

“who is then? i mean, a pretty girl like you, there’s no way you don’t have a boyfriend.” bucky was actually flirting with her right now. it’s not like she wasn’t used to it, even when they started dating he would still flirt with her. but this was different, because bucky couldn’t remember that he was her boyfriend. she was so torn between crying on her knees begging him to just remember, and continuing to fuck with him. she assumed the latter would be less painful for now, so she went along with it.

“there’s a certain brunette i have wrapped around my finger…” she smirked back at him as she sat on the end of his bed.

this was certainly going to be interesting.

The screen turns into a tidal wave

Then it's a dorm room, like a hedge maze

avalon had dreamed of attending columbia since the day she toured it when she was ten, so when she got in early decision she was more than ecstatic.

meeting bucky during the summer between freshman and sophomore year happened purely by chance, because he was a student at nyu, and avalon still lived at home during the summer. it was a struggle to make it all work when they first started dating, but they did it.

junior year was definitely a bitch though. the first few weeks kicked both of their asses, what with bucky being an athlete and avalon being a biochemistry major. he had hours upon hours of practice and training, while avalon had two to four hour long labs and seminars.

one late night as avalon crammed for a quiz in her molecular biology course, hopped up on three pipeline punch monsters and a five hour energy, she heard an unexpected knock at the door. she knew it wasn’t her roommate, isabela.

avalon grumbled, not even wanting to get up from the seat at her desk so she called out, “who is it?”

“housekeeping!” immediately knowing who it was, she jumped up and bolted to the door, swinging it open.

“bucky!” she smiled.

“hey, doll.” he smiled back, avalon practically flinging herself into his arms.

“oh, my god! what are you doing here?” her voice came out muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“i was homesick…” bucky shrugged. avalon pulled her face away to look at him, not a hint of anything but love behind his eyes. she pulled him back in and hugged him even tighter.

avalon was his home, and bucky was hers.

And when I find you

You touch my leg and I insist

everyone that knew bucky knew he was a playboy. never being tied down to one girl for more than a few nights. it was always like that. at least, that was, until he met avalon.

hes a brooklyn boy. blood, bread, born and raised. first kiss at nine and lost his virginity by sixteen. avalon was very different. shes a catskills girl through and through. first kiss at thirteen and still a virgin. she didn’t want to give all of herself to just anyone.

“you know, we don’t have to do anything if you aren’t ready yet. i don’t want you to feel pressured.” bucky said as they sat on the edge of her bed. avalon made sure isabela wouldn’t be back tonight so she could have the dorm room for her and bucky.

she really wanted this. she wanted it with bucky. she wanted everything with bucky.

“i know, i’m okay… i am ready.” she looked up at him to see the softest, sweetest smile on his face.

god, bucky barnes was going to be the absolute death of avalon fiore.

But I wake up before we do it

buckys recovery after the accident was a very long and hard process. it took nearly a year for his memory to be restored, at least to the point of remembering avalon and all of his friends. he was still staying with steve until his doctor fully cleared him to go back to his usual life, and avalon stayed with him almost every night, as he oftentimes had nightmares and she was the only person that could calm him down.

this just so happened to be one of those nights. avalon woke up to him thrashing around in the bed, which wasn’t too unusual, but it typically meant that his nightmares were worse than normal and it’d probably be a lot harder to get him back to sleep. avalon didn’t mind helping him a single bit. she loved him so much, she would do this for the rest of her life if she had to.

she wrapped herself around him and held him down as best she could, being his human weighted blanket.

“buck…” she spoke softly in his ear, and he jolted awake, hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. “bucky- hey, hey, hey. hey, it’s me. it’s me, it’s just me. i’m here, okay? you’re gonna be okay, i promise. i’m right here.” she whispered as she ran her hands through his hair.

I don't know how, but I'm taller

It must be something in the water

avalon stood at the pier in riverside park as she did almost every day. just because bucky hurt her didn’t mean she was going to let him ruin the hudson for her. she had so many memories here, and the good definitely outweighed the bad.

“avalon…” she didn’t need to turn around and see his face to know it was him. she’d know that voice anytime, any place. even if she was deaf, she’d know the vibrations.

she pursed her lips as she felt him get closer behind her. “hi, james.” she replied plainly, looking back out over the river.

bucky was ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness in front of every person walking empire state trail. “avs, please-“

she finally turned around at that, hearing the nickname only bucky ever called her. it sounded so foul running from his lips now. “no, no. no. you don’t get to call me that!” avalon yelled, shoving him back. “not anymore…” she whispered coldly, tears brimming her waterline as she walked away.

bucky fell to his knees crying. he didn’t care if anyone thought he looked pathetic, he felt horrible. he didn’t care if they trampled over him, he already felt like he was dying inside knowing how much pain he caused avalon.

Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

many years ago now, not too long after meeting her for the first time, pepper asked avalon if she could teach her how to garden. they planted a beautiful array of flowers around the outside of the house. pepper had enough skill now after all these years to do everything herself, and was even beginning to pass all her knowledge down to morgan.

after everything that had happened recently, steve, and everyone else really, started to notice that avalon wasn’t going out as much. she seemed in a funk and they didn’t know how to help. she was always at her best surrounded by her friends and family, but now she felt too weak to even get out of bed most days. tony and pepper insisted avalon and steve come over for dinner, so that’s where they were, at the couples cabin deep in the adirondacks.

as pepper prepared a feast in the kitchen, steve and tony drinking on the porch and catching up while morgan played in the living room, avalon decided to get some fresh air and walk around the property. she stared fondly at the garden surrounding the house, remembering when her and pepper first planted it. something near the edge of the deck caught her eye… a small bundle of pink peonies.

she wasn’t sure exactly what came over her, but the next second avalon was ripping them out of the ground and pulling them apart. the guys shared a look.

“is she… okay?” tony asked, brows furrowed.

“she’s… she’s uhh… pulling out the peonies.”

“why?” steve himself wasn’t too sure either and he was thoroughly worried and confused, so he went over to check on her.

“avi…” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

she slowed to a stop, holding some destroyed buds in her hands as she began crying. “i can’t- i can’t… it’s like he’s a ghost, just haunting me at every corner i turn.” she looked up at steve and whispered, “i just can’t do it anymore.”

steve leaned down to hug her, but just as he did she went right back to ripping up the peonies and punching the ground, cursing god for playing such a sick joke on her.

steve walked back up the porch, far more perplexed than before. “she said something about a ghost, i don’t… i don’t know.” he sighed.

“a what?” tony screeched.

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller

seven months had now passed since avalon broke up with bucky, and everyones lives had been rockier than the devils tombstone. bucky got a new apartment in brooklyn, while avalon stayed with steve until her new home in the catskills was finished. she planned to move back there and get on with her life, maybe teach plant biology at her old high school, or work for the wethersfield estate tending to the gardens.

it was a rare night that only ever happened once in a blue moon where steve and avalon were off work on the same night, no flowers to sell or cars to fix. they decided to stay in watching movies together while getting wine drunk.

“i don’t know, i just don’t think i needed to see luke peglers bare ass tonight.” steve shrugged, avalon laughing hysterically.

“oh, i definitely did.” she said giggling, taking a sip from her glass.

steve shifted in his seat to face her, “can we talk about it now?” he asked softly.

“talk about what?” avalon said, raising a brow. she knew exactly what he meant, but she didn’t want to argue with him about it anymore. they’d been going back in forth for months now and avalon just wanted to put everything to rest and move on.

“i know he messed up, avi…” she rolled her eyes at that.

“yeah, no shit. tell me something i don’t already know, rogers.” she replied, downing the rest of the wine in her glass. steve huffed. why does she have to be so damn stubborn, he thought.

“do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“i don’t know, steve. i really don’t.” she sighed.

this was the first time in her life that avalon wasn’t sure what her future would look like. since the day she met bucky in soho, the summer her uncles brewery expanded into the city, she imagined he’d be there until the very end.

No, I'm not afraid of hard work

I get everything I want

nearly a year with no contact and house in the catskills still unfinished, avalon was going stir-crazy. she felt out of her mind and didn’t know what to do. steve always worked longer hours than her, tony and pepper were in the adirondacks, nat and yelena were visiting their parents in russia, sam was working on his parents old boat in louisiana, wanda moved back to sokovia, and she had not the slightest idea what thor, bruce and clint were up to these days, considering they never answered their damn phones. she was still convinced after all these years that thor didn’t even know how to use his phone.

she made the decision, without even thinking really, but she was ready for the hell to end. she wasn’t sure if this was absolutely insane and would regret ever doing it, or if she was pure genius and would regret having not done it sooner.

“there’s literally no turning back now…” she whispered to herself in the dark of her car as she began driving over the brooklyn bridge.

she got turned around at first, taking the route to his old apartment. it was muscle memory. she’d completely forgotten he moved. by the time she finally made it there it was nearly 11:30pm, and she was sure he would be asleep.

but she knocked anyways.

and he answered.

“avalon…” he couldn’t believe she was standing in his doorway right now, a look of utter shock spread across his face.

“hi, bucky.” she said softly with a smile.

“get in here, right now!” when she didn’t move, bucky grabbed her arms and pulled her swiftly into his apartment.

“well, hello there…” she said through giggles while bucky spun her around.

“oh, my god…” he put her back on her feet, and when her smile didn’t falter he held her face gently in his hands to ground himself. this had to be a dream, he thought. “hi, doll!” he whispered in the space between them.

avalon smiled wider, running her hands through his hair. bucky leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering closed as he let out a content sigh. “hey, pretty boy.”

she still had no idea what her future was going to look like from here on out, but she knew she needed bucky in it forever. they would definitely talk about everything later, but for right now she just needed to live in this moment.

they were finally home again.

I have everything I wanted

[crusherthedoctor]

💫 favorite Sonic game(s) in terms of aesthetic <3

I guess The Aesthetic Guy has become one of my calling cards next to The Green Horsie Guy and The Eggman Guy That Hates Eggdad, huh? Well, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Unfortunately and/or fortunately, there's a lot of Sonic games with top tier aesthetics, which makes it very hard for me to narrow them down. Most games in the series have at least a winner or two: SA2 has the pyramid and A.R.K. levels. Unleashed has Eggmanland and Jungle Joyride. '06 has Kingdom Valley. Black Knight has Misty Lake. Secret Rings has Sand Oasis and Night Palace. Rush has Water Palace and Mirage Road. Rush Adventure has Coral Cave, Sky Babylon, and Pirates' Island. 3D Blast has Rusty Ruin and Volcano Valley. ShtH has more than you'd expect for a game like it, such as Digital Circuit and Circus Park. Even the Rivals duology has a couple of good ones. But if I must decide on a personal top ten for which games I consider to have the most consistently strong aesthetics, then in chronological order...

The Genesis games. They started things off, so they had to establish Sonic's world as a fascinating one. Well it worked for me when I played them on Mega Collection back in '03. Despite playing Advance 2 first, I never thought these ones were uncool by comparison. I loved Marble Zone's juxtaposition of the grassy outdoors with the lava temple. I loved how opulent Casino Night's lights were to offset the night. I loved how funky and quasi-Arabic in architecture Launch Base was. I loved how the already ominous background in Death Egg Act 1 doesn't even move, subtly emphasizing just how massive the spaceship truly is. Even when they had to reuse assets to cobble together a zone, it still looked great!

Sonic CD. I already love the visual storytelling in the game as is, and its aesthetics make me love it even more. My favourites tend to be the Pasts for how they get away with being no less pleasing in spite of their intentionally murkier palettes (I too adore the sunset canyon of Wacky Workbench), and the Good Futures for how unashamedly loud and proud they are, including the way they show nature and technology working together. They're all so good. (Also, shout out to Chaotix for having a similar vibe, even if it can sometimes be hard to tell what you're looking at cause of how trippy it is lol. It's like the physical manifestation of the 90's.)

Sonic R. The neanderthal "I wish Sonic R had more than five courses so the game was longer" VS the intellectual "I wish Sonic R had more than five courses so there were more for me to stop and gawk at".

SA1. Lost World is so pretty. Twinkle Park is so pretty. The At Dawn section of Speed Highway is so pretty. The cave in Ice Cap is so pretty. Beta Windy Valley is so pretty. Red Mountain is pretty from a certain point of view. SA1 may have started the focus on "realism", but it never felt anywhere near as in-your-face as some of the later games that indulged in it. Not just because there were plenty of more whimsical environments to balance it out, but also because even the grounded ones still had an equal amount of colours and fancy Dreamcast lighting trickery. Hell, Final Egg is meant to be a gritty, grungy kind of Eggman base, and it is, yet it still manages to be as visually interesting to look at as the other stages. I can't really say that about Crisis City, or the islands in Frontiers.

The Advance trilogy. C'mon, you know I love me some good pixel art, so I'm never going to stop gushing over how gorgeous Ice Mountain and Twinkle Snow are, or how cool Techno Base is, or how upbeat Music Plant is, or how striking Chaos Angel is, or how-

Heroes. People always say this game had some of the most Genesis-style environments in a 3D installment, and I definitely don't disagree with that. Because of this, it has a very similar appeal to SA1, with levels like Grand Metropolis, Frog Forest, and Hang Castle most likely managing to fit in with the SA1 group without sticking out like a sore thumb. And it's a small detail, but I love how in Egg Fleet, the upper part of the skybox is completely clear. All the clouds are down below. It's a subtle thing, but it really goes a long way to emphasizing just how high up in the atmosphere you really are.

The Riders trilogy. Metal City has one of my favourite city aesthetics in the series. Gigan Rocks is like a more vibrant Dragon Road, and Gigan Device has a beautiful nighttime palette. Dark Desert's eclipse-induced darkness contrasts with the colorful circuitry during the indoor sections. Aquatic Capital is like a high-tech water park, with Tempest Waterway being the sort-of-Bad-Future equivalent that's still pretty in its own way. Digital Dimension is Digital Dimension. Even Crimson Crater, despite mostly consisting of greys and silvers, remains compelling due to how alien the landscape is. There were even some visual highlights in Free Riders despite being Free Riders, like the very first course, Dolphin Resort.

Colours. After Heroes, this game's environments are among the most Genesis, which you know at this point is always a plus in my book. Each of them have their own thing to say about Eggman's theme park and the man himself by extension, with the public announcements giving them even more personality. Aquarium Park is undisputedly my favourite of the lot, doubled by the catching red and blue contrast (and also because underwater tubes is one of those video game tropes that always captivates me; thank Roo's Tubes from CTR for starting that fascination).

Generations. This one's sort of cheating since it's just Old Levels DX: Director's Cut, but it deserves to be mentioned for its version of Sky Sanctuary alone. I really like Generations Sky Sanctuary...

Mania. The older levels have been remixed so heavily that they feel new regardless, and the twists it spins on the actual environment side of things is no exception, like the cavern in Green Hill, or the machinery in Lava Reef. But of course, the new levels are S-tier eye candy as well. I particularly love how Titanic Monarch manages to be dark and spooky while also having every colour under the rainbow at the same time, and the snowy forest backdrop of Press Garden is just... wonderful. <3

And although the game isn't out yet, Superstars looks like it'll be another consistent winner for me. While another Mania-esque pixel art game would have been really nice, I can accept the Sonic 4 But Better approach if it's like what we've seen so far.

You'll notice some running themes with my favourites. The obvious one is a generous amount of vibrancy and character, because no matter how bright or dark, good or evil, hopeful or hopeless the environment is meant to convey, it should never be boring. I also apparently get excited by technicolor stuff, because I never stopped being six years old. And if realism is a thing, I prefer it to be something that compliments an otherwise whimsical land, rather than be at the forefront and eclipsing all other attributes.

But I also like it when they get a bit ethereal, especially if it can provide a contrast with Eggman's handiwork. That's why I marvel at levels like Radiant Emerald, Night Palace, and basically everything in CD. As such, when writing for Stellar, I wanted to emphasize this aspect as a way to help Viridonia stand out as a setting compared to the likes of Station Square. (This was true for the original Beyond the Stars as well, but naturally I wanted to go even further with it after the transition.)

[aetheltrythh]

On the Origin of Dream's Raven Kink

I've finished a new fic, you can read it also on AO3. Thanks to @tryan-a-bex for beta reading :-).

Summary

Dream of the Endless has not always had a raven. Not until he got the raven kink from a cave woman named Lusyjen.

Notes:

With a story like this, every word is a potential trap for some sort of historical inaccuracy, so, kindly suspend your disbelief and let's go!

Prologue

"Dream of the Endless always has a raven," Lucienne says, tilting her head, brimming with concern, as I am about to leave for the Waking again, standing on the pier at the sea of dreams and nightmares.

No, not always. You forget. It has been long.

You were the first one and after you, I could not do without a raven.

Only now, I must. It is a fair story that you are trying to tell me, but  "Jessamy was the last."

I could not protect her. It is as if a part of me died. Yet another part. If the pain of it will ever pass, I do not know, although I am aware that all memories dull with time, even mine. The bond was... strong. I spent much time looking at the world through her eyes. I know what she would tell me if she was here now and discarded her usual diplomacy. That I should get out more. Use my own eyes. That I do not really need her. But I do. Company is a rare thing. I think you are here for something else, I can still hear Hob's voice in my mind. I am loath to admit it but I do yearn for something, someone. Perhaps I should put more trust in Lucienne, if not in anyone else. Though I am not sure whether I know how. Whether I ever have. She told me she did not feel abandoned when the Dreaming started to crumble and the library was lost to her. But she must have felt... lonely. And yet she remained, even if she could have crossed to the Waking.

I must find a way to make it up to her. Alleviate her burden. Otherwise, there may come a day when everything is too much, even for her.

She does not see my hands tremble as I face away from her and the sea parts before me.

Lucienne

45,000 years ago in what is today mainland Greece (and remember folks, this is the Ice Age).

The nights grow longer; another season of cold and snow is nigh. I know that I will not...would not...last through it. My tribe knows that too. Nobody has said anything, but when we arrive in a deep valley wherein lies a cave that I hold most sacred - and therefore, they do too - we stop. Shelters are built among the trees in front of the cave. We... they...will be here for days after....

I am not afraid. Or am I?

When the preparations are done, four of the men carry me inside, where a fire burns already. I can no longer smell the salt and fish in the air from the sea - the great water that one cannot drink - as I could outside. It is not far. Shadows would lengthen for maybe one ell before one would arrive at its shore. I am fond of the sea though it is also dreadful. They lay me down on a flat stone covered by several layers of fur. Many years ago, my mother and I put paintings on these walls. Ravens and wolves. Facing my father's and brother's red deer and horses painted in red ochre. They are still there, but now I can barely see them. My eyes have weakened to the point of not being able to find herbs in woods and meadows, making me rely on my nose. My remaining teeth are worn out. I can only eat, with difficulty, the most tender meat and berries and mushrooms. My joints are painful and swollen when walking from sunrise to sunset. Hunting is a thing of the past. I have lost half of my hair and I know that there is some foulness in my blood. I have lived much longer than most. Perhaps it is a thing that happens when one has seen too many winters. The cold consumes the soul's strength coursing in one's veins. I am the wise woman of my tribe, a wosa, and yet there is so much I do not know.

I thumb the cave lion teeth hanging from a flax string around my neck. They have as many notches in them as all fingers and toes of two healthy people together. For as long as I can remember, I have been making a notch for every time that the snow melted and birches and oaks sprouted new leaves, heralding the spring and the coming abundance of food. My finger stops on the second notch of the oldest tooth, yellowed by time; that was when I first encountered ravens. Magnificent black birds, their feathers shiny like water flowing over rocks. None of us has seen such as them in the land from which we journeyed, in need of more space and more game. Others of my tribe thought them croaking, but to me, they spoke. Not in words, precisely, but in visions and feelings. Two ravens have been following me ever since. The elders did not believe me. I was too young for such things, they said.  A few years later, when I crafted a lightweight spear with an antler tip as I saw it in a vision of other people making it - I observed them as if I was perched on a tree right above them - the elders shook their heads. A child's toy, they said. A spear must be thick and have a stone tip, they said. When I returned to our settlement with a deer so large I could barely carry it, they began paying attention.

A pair of ravens now wait silently outside the cave for my last flight. As usual, they have been given the best meat from this morning's kill in sacrifice. And eyes. They need them for their farsight. I can feel their contentment. They will mourn me but they know that all things must end. As did their predecessors; they are not the first ones. It is only natural and proper. My niece and nephew begin to play their flutes made of mute swan bone. Another notch on the first tooth calls me to touch it. That was the year I first saw the strange man-shaped spirit in my dreams. I have seen him many times after but he never spoke and I never told anyone about him. He would not have approved of that, I felt. But I know that it is he who has been helping me to guide shards of people's souls back to their bodies. It is an easy thing for a soul-part to wander off into the unseen realms after a terror or loss. Not so easy to lead it back where it belongs. I have also been reconciling the malevolent spirits that cause pains and ailments. But that too, has its bounds. I can no longer lure them away from myself.

I open my eyes. The man-shaped spirit stands two steps from the foot of my stone bed as if called by my thoughts. Even though he has never appeared to me outside of the dreamworld, even here, I am the only one who sees him. The others but avoid the space where he is standing. He is nothing like men of the waking world; his face is smooth like a young woman's, skin without a fault, as light as the palest seashell. No one has that, not my kin, not any people I have heard of in the countless trading circles I took part in. And then there are his eyes... I grew accustomed to them and they are kind but the colour is all wrong. Blue as the sea in sunlight. And yet, they are beautiful. He looks sorrowful, more than usual, but even so, the corners of his lips move slightly upwards when he looks at me and nods. I shut my eyes again. 

The men of my tribe approach me one by one, touching my arms and shoulders, then fanning out towards the light coming from the cave entrance. The women do the same, only, they take positions in the opposite direction, heading further into the darkness and its heart; there is a passage there, leading down to a cavern with a lake where rocks hang from the roof like the limbs of the sea creatures that have so many of them. The women are to guide my soul into the shadows before it can enter another world, if the Great Mother wills it so. I would perhaps welcome it. 

A vision that I have had for a long time bothers me as I have never been able to truly grasp it. Perhaps I will when I join my ancestors. I have been making signs, not only on my lion teeth, but on countless bones, on cave walls, on wood, and in the dirt. To mark the passage of the moon and the sun, to imitate what animal footprints and herb leaves look like and thus capture their essence to persist long after I am dead. But what if there was more than that? A way to keep our songs and the stories that we tell when sitting at the evening fire. The earliest ones I have heard are long gone from my memory. I wish they weren't.

I breathe slowly. I am ready. Almost no one dies like this, without much pain. I am lucky. My chest is heavy and I fall into the warm embrace of sleep.

***

When I wake, I know that I have left my body, irrevocably. Sitting up, I look around myself. Still in a cave, but it is different. This one has an even higher ceiling and a large opening through which a myriad of stars are shining. At the sides, several fires are burning, each of a different colour. I touch my feet slowly to the ground. Sand. I look to the far end of the cave.

"Welcome in my realm and in my abode, Lusyjen." The pale spirit hasn't opened his mouth, but I can hear his words all the same. His first words to me. "Come closer." He sits in a stone seat, several steps above the floor, black fur with long hair from an animal unknown to me wrapped around his bare shoulders, legs covered with a sort of black-hide leggings, the reason for which I cannot understand as his dwelling is summer-warm. No matter, the ways of otherworldly beings are incomprehensible. They have their own reasons for everything and their moods are volatile. Behind him, gemstone crystals are protruding from the wall, larger and clearer than all the stones that traders have ever brought before me.

I come to stand still at the foot of the steps. What he is, I do not know even now. Not a spirit of forests or rivers. Not of the mountains or the sea. Something larger than that still. Perhaps the Moon himself. The pale guardian of night and sleep, clothed in the colour of raven feathers.

I bow my head as he descends to me. Not knowing how to address him properly, now that he has decided to use words, in my mind, I conjure a vision of wolves honouring the night and the moon with their howls, of the silent wings of night owls, and of children fast asleep in their mothers' arms.

He gently lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. "You may wonder why you are here. It is within my power to offer you residence in the Dreaming and my protection, as you died in your sleep." The Dreaming...that's what he calls this other world then. The whole of it is...his? Observing me with curiosity, he sits upright, hands planted firmly on the sides of his seat. Then he leans slightly leans forward. "In turn, I would ask you to be my messenger and my eyes and ears in the waking world."

"Yrshaya," I say; a word for someone of great esteem and status. "It would be my honour."

One does not refuse a call to serve a being such as him.

"Very well." He smiles in a small, secretive way. Something stirs in my chest... I have never had children but I would offer my protection to him too, however insignificant it may be, as I would protect and care for a young one. He is so thin. Like we sometimes are after a season of poor hunting. "You may choose any form that you like. A woman. A man. An animal. Anything in between. You are no longer bound to mortal flesh."

For a little while, I think about it, but I have no real doubt.

"A raven."

And then, I am much smaller and I have wings. Extending them, I look at my new feathers and try to flap them. They lift me into the air and I land on the nearest thing - the spirit's shoulder - which is also a very good place to be. He angles his head towards me and strokes my back lightly.

This gives me the boldness to ask, "Do you have a name, yrshaya? I should like to know, if I am to serve you."

His voice rumbles at the back of my head and when it does, there is no space for anything else. "Not a name like yours. But. I am known. As. Dream of the Endless. The Prince of Stories. And the Shaper of Forms."

Dream.

What Endless might be, I cannot grasp. All things must end, and begin, again and again. But I know now that I have always been his creature. It is right. I am skilled at moving in the dreamworld and bringing back stories to tell men and women to heal them. I know the Waking and the seen and unseen paths of people and animals, even though I yearn to learn more.

I cannot resist carding through his hair with my beak and brushing my head softly against his cheek. Sitting down on the steps with a sigh, he lets me.

Notes

I have done quite a lot of research for such a short fic, but still, there is probably a lot of bullshit. A good things is that no one who has lived in that time is going to read it, so hopefully, no one will be personally offended :D. Unless we have a paleolithic Hob Gadling among us.

The climate was much colder in the Ice Age than it is today, even in the Mediterranean. Hence the concern with winter.

I do not know where the word wosa came from According to ChatGPT, it's not from any known language, so I hope I haven't stolen it from some work of fiction. If so, please tell me.

I set the story at the beginning of the upper paleolithic transition, which is supposed to be the beginning of 'modern' humanity. It looks like we have started to think in new ways and do lots of new shenanigans. See for example this video by John Vervaeke from cca 00:26:00

The common notion is that women in hunter-gatherer societies did not hunt, just gather, but it’s not that clear anymore. They actually may have.

Regarding blue eyes, that would be shocking at the time. Literally no one had that, the trait started to develop from around 10,000 years ago. Regarding light skin colour, it is my understanding that even in people who migrated to northern regions such as Europe and Asia, at this point, it wouldn't have had time to develop. Dream is supposed to look like to the person who sees him, but I did this to emphasize that Lucienne can see his otherworldliness.

I am horrible, I just had to dress Dream in pre-historic leather pants and some spectacular fur over bare chest and shoulders :-).

The question is, when does Lucienne become the librarian? If it's with the invention of cuneiform, she'll have to wait for quite a bit before her vision comes true...

[findroleplay]

🌈Hi there! I'm Nika, 24, and use they/them pronouns. I'm looking for 21+ rp partners to do a Always Be Your Baby inspired omegaverse rp. Although the plot is inspired by the book Always Be Your Baby, we'd play our own ocs, either using faceclaims or pic crews. I'm open to playing the janitor and one of the CEOs or just the janitor. You'd play one of the CEOs. I'd love to keep this a poly plot. I'm okay with m/m/m, m/nb/m, m/f/m, and m/f/nb pairings. I'd like the janitor to be an omega or beta. The CEOs can be any dynamic but ideally one of the CEOs would be an alpha.

LEAVE A LIKE AND I WILL REACH OUT TO YOU!

Always Be Your Baby plot:

As a janitor working at one of Silicon Valley's most prestigious health tech companies, Alfie is used to-and prefers-cleaning the stage before the real stars come out. Such is the life of a trusty background character amongst the main leads, Jasmine Liu and Dean Tran, the elusive pair of young CEOs running HELIOS. Jasmine and Dean lead seemingly perfect lives; Stanford graduates, valedictorians, CEOs, Forbes 30-Under-30 types and of course, long-time lovers.But a perk of fading into the background allows him all the time in the world to see how everything truly runs backstage. Which is why he's shocked to accidentally overhear the one apparent flaw in Jasmine and Dean's lives: that they're struggling to get their 'third in their life', their 'baby'. Certain about their struggle to create a proverbial hatchling in the family nest, a sympathetic Alfie boldly offers help in any way he can. After all, his Mom is a nurse and he's happy to pass any advice along.To his surprise, the pair agree to his help. Suddenly, Jasmine and Dean are everywhere, inviting him to their offices, sending small gifts his way (in gratitude?) and Alfie is running around compiling fertility tips in a binder like it's nobody's business.If only he could actually properly share them with the pair, considering Dean and Jasmine seem intent on having these advice meetings with him during distracting candlelit dinners, sunset strolls and truly tender homecooking sessions. Wait, is this what normally happens when a background character gets dragged onto the center stage?

_

[mixtapet]

Mixtape T: Chasing Sunset

Check out the playlist below:

Whoo! Alright - Yeah...Uh Huh. -The Rapture

The Helmet -Yonic South

10 Day Miracle Challenge -Death Valley Girls

Time Bomb -Rancid

An Honest Mistake -The Bravery

Make Out -The Greeting Committee

I Wanna Dance With You- Royel Otis

chinese new year -SALES

Dry The Rain -The Beta Band

Sunday Roast -Courtney Barnett

Thinking About You- Beck

Down By The Water -The Drums

Golden Light -STRFKR

Sunset Lover -Petit Biscuit

Goji Berry Sunset -Jealous Of The Birds

[sable-simp]

Oh lord that’ll be a HUGE list, I got like 30 files lying around here and that’s not even all my ideas… now I can only hope that there’s more finished ones than wips…

Haino wips (in order):

Pokémon AU Haino

Divine Intervention and Other Trivial Problems

The Relationship Plan

Library Stalking Blues

Slice of Life RP

Possessed by Evil, Surrounded by Death

Forget Me Not (title is a placeholder)

To Love One’s Enemy

A Master Detective and His Genius Consultant

Beyond World’s End With You

Darkness Before the Sunset

Other:

Dreaming About You (multiple docs) (that’s the Mashle ff I’m co-authoring)

A fic by a friend that I should be betaing, I’ll leave it unnamed for their privacy

The Valley of Oblivion (Zukaang)

Tale of a Dragon and His Egg (no, I won’t elaborate, it’s a precious secret but feel free to guess)

A Sandman fic excerpt by Sam that I’ve yet to read…

Akumu (name of my Hazbin Hotel OC from one of my RPs with Sam AND YES THIS IS A REMINDER FOR THEM TO FINALLY ANSWER MY TEXT DAMMIT)

Yet another doc I’m betaing for a friend

Jamie (another RP OC)

We Don’t Talk About It (Damn I’m so glad that’s the name I gave this particular doc)

Aaaaaand that’s it xD (Sam, you asked for it)

To whoever bothered to read this far, feel free to request snippets from whatever doc intrigues you! And @amsdia I ask that you reveal your doc names to the audience xD (even though I probably know most of them)

WIP ask game

I was tagged by the wonderful @five-and-dimes, thank you so much love!!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I really have so very few WIPs I'm actively working on I'll just write down some of the in progress names of the ideas that are swirling around in my head!

Soccer au:

Destruction arc

A day with the Riggers

Lawsuit

Visiting the Dead

World Cup

Others:

Keep Your Friends Close (epic crossover)

Baldurs Gate crossover

Ehhhh Actually Writing Greece AU

Secret Service

Tagging whoever comes to my mind, sorry if you've been tagged already!

@kydrogendragon @bazzybelle @mid0khan @sable-simp @valeriianz

[thesims1master]

Amazing recreation of beta Sunset Valley by JustinRide! Thanks to @simnostalgia I discovered this beautiful recreation of very first map of this world! I'm planning on populating this world recreating some beta characters and adding new ones. On the last image is redecoration of Alto house that first was suposed to be in yellow color, and they with very different outfits. Link to the world https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9500645

[boringbones]

OldSunset is growing more and more!

[simnostalgia]

Found it! The beta Sunset Valley is here. Made by JustinRide.

[weirdnerdearnest-blog]

Sunset Valley The Sims 3 Beta.