#they've placed memorials in the area... :(

[twilit-tragedy]

Occasionally, I hear about an airplane accident and have to scour the wikipedia page for it. I blame it on my uncle and that history channel(?) show about said accidents.

Anyway, in the deadliest accident in Portuguese territory (Independant Air 1851, in 1989), 1) the plane smacked right into a mountain (crew error), 2) killed everyone on board, and 3) apparently spread metal and body parts all over said mountain. Oh, joy.

This was in Santa Maria, Azores. The second deadliest was TAP 425 (in 1977) in Madeira. Bad weather + crew error + short runway. The plane hydroplaned straight out of the runway, fell off a 61 m cliff onto the beach and caught fire. They've since extended the runway... What I've learned from this is that airports in mountainous areas are risky business... Perhaps Portela is a breeze to land on, idk.

[abby-howard]

Some folks were asking for my boiled peanuts recipe (as they feature in our game, Scarlet Hollow, and we made a big batch this past weekend), but it's unfortunately a bit difficult for me to post with lightness in my heart right now because this past weekend the entirety of western North Carolina, where Scarlet Hollow takes place, was devastated by hurricane Helene.

Towns I have been to and have fond memories of have been described as "washed away." The region is almost entirely still out of power, the water is all contaminated with repair efforts expected to take weeks, and there are hundreds of people stranded, including my relatives, as roads have been totally destroyed. My uncle sent a photo of the road near his house, thankfully his home is okay but I have to image it's going to take a while for roads like this to see repairs:

I know this photo has been making the rounds, but it bears posting for those who haven't seen it-- the main strip of Chimney Rock, before and after:

Trees, cars, buildings, everything is gone. And now all that debris is just sitting in lakes and rivers. This is Lake Lure today:

Pictures from Swannanoa, an absolutely lovely town with so much character, where my sister went to folk music camp as a teen, where mobile home parks were hit hardest-- people's houses just floated away downriver:

And of course Asheville is the town most people will have heard of. A city of 95k, completely isolated in the days after the storm. The River Arts District was still underwater as of yesterday:

People throughout the entire region are without power and transport and fuel and water and food, they've lost their homes and their businesses, and people have had to resort to hiking to reach loved ones to see if they're safe or whether their homes were just wiped off the face of the earth-- hundreds are still missing because it's been so difficult to get in contact with people in these isolated, rural communities that are now nearly impossible to get to because roads were washed away or collapsed in landslides.

I honestly don't even know where to start when it comes to relief funds or ways that people can help. I've been listening to the local radio station and it sounds like the area is in shock, people are coming in to help pick up the pieces but there is so much recovery that will have to happen that it's hard to know where to start.

This article from the Citizen Times has a list of places that are currently helping with relief efforts.

It's absolutely unfathomable that a hurricane could hit the mountains. The effects of this are going to be felt in western NC for a long time, and my heart goes out to everyone who is currently stranded or trying to get in touch with people who are.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 1

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

In the heart of the military training ground, you, a seasoned Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) technician, stand poised amidst a group of nervous soldiers. Among them is Private Jameson, a newcomer with trembling hands and apprehensive eyes. With unwavering composure, you take charge, your voice steady as you address the group.

"Today, we're covering the basics of bomb disposal," you begin, your tone reassuring yet firm. Turning to Private Jameson, you offer a patient smile.

"You, Private. What's your name?" Despite his nervousness, Private Jameson responds, and you guide him with a calming presence, instilling confidence as you impart your expertise.

"Jameson, take a deep breath," you instruct softly but firmly. "Remember, focus is key. You've got this." Private Jameson nods, his eyes locked on your reassuring gaze.

As he examines the device, you watch attentively, offering guidance with each movement. When he finishes, you nod approvingly. "Well done, Private. Now, let's move on."

As Private Jameson continues under your guidance, the other soldiers watch with admiration. They've seen you in action before, witnessed your dedication to the mission and your willingness to put yourself in harm's way for the greater good.

"Ma'am, what if the situation calls for immediate action?" Private Reynolds interjects, reflecting the group's curiosity.

You acknowledge the gravity of the question. "In a real-world scenario, there may not be time for thorough examination," you explain calmly. "Trust your instincts and make split-second decisions."

Private Jameson glances at you, newfound respect shining in his eyes. "But you always seem so calm under pressure, ma'am," he remarks admiringly.

You smile humbly, reflecting on the countless moments of uncertainty you've faced. "It's not about being fearless, Private," you reply earnestly. "It's about pushing through fear for those counting on you."

Your words hang in the air, a silent reminder of the sacrifices made by soldiers like you every day. With renewed determination, Private Jameson nods, his resolve strengthened by your example.

As the door of the training facility echoed with a sharp knock, you exchanged a puzzled glance with your comrades. The abrupt interruption stirred a sense of unease within you, a foreboding whisper of uncertainty.

"A lawyer wants to see you," the soldier at the door announced, his voice tinged with urgency.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Me?" you repeated, your mind racing to grasp the sudden turn of events. "Hmm, he sounds British," you mused aloud, your instincts sharpened by years of training.

With measured steps, you followed your comrade through the maze of corridors until you reached the visitor's area. There, standing before you, was a figure from your past, a familiar face veiled in the somber cloak of time.

"Miss," the lawyer greeted you with a solemn nod, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him, the memories flooding back like an unstoppable tide. It had been fifteen years since you last saw him, a lifetime of distance and estrangement separating you.

"I assumed something bad happened?" you ventured cautiously, your tone laced with concern and apprehension.

The lawyer, Cedric, nodded gravely, his expression betraying the gravity of the news he bore.

You and Cedric found a quiet place to talk. "Something's wrong?" you inquired, noting the somber expression on Cedric's face as he adjusted his glasses.

Cedric remained silent momentarily, his gaze fixed on the ground before meeting your eyes. "Duke Rupert died two days ago," he finally uttered, his voice laden with gravity.

Your heart clenched at the news. Duke Rupert was your stepfather, and the thought of his passing filled you with a mix of sorrow and apprehension.

Cedric continued, his words weighed down by the weight of the news. "On his will, he wrote that he wants all the family to gather. I came here as soon as I could. And you could attend the funeral too. He probably wants it too."

You nodded, absorbing the information with a heavy heart. The sudden loss of Duke Rupert had thrown your world into disarray, and the prospect of gathering with the family only added to the uncertainty swirling within you.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, determined to face whatever lay ahead with strength

You nodded in response to Cedric's words, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I'll gather my things," you said quietly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

As you packed your belongings into your bag, Private Jameson approached you, his curiosity evident in his voice. "So, it turns out you're a noble," he remarked, his tone tinged with surprise.

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head in response. "I'm not. It was my step-dad. There's no noble blood in me," you explained, a hint of self-deprecation in your voice.

Jameson furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued. "We've been working together for years, but you never mentioned anything about this," he observed, his tone filled with genuine interest.

You zipped up your bag, pausing momentarily before meeting Jameson's gaze. "It's just family stuff. Nothing interesting," you replied cryptically, a hint of sadness flickering in your eyes before you turned away, ready to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.

After a grueling 12-hour flight, you finally arrived back in the UK. As the car pulled up to Evergreen Abbey, your childhood home, a rush of nostalgia washed over you. The manor stood proudly, its historical façade unchanged by the passing years.

Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to absorb the familiar sight before you. The memories of your upbringing flooded back, filling you with a sense of belonging despite the years of absence.

As you entered the manor, you were greeted by the sight of a middle-aged woman wearing a classic black dress adorned with a string of pearls. Her youthful aura belied the years that had passed since you last saw her. It was your mother, Susan.

"You're back," she exclaimed, opening her arms wide to envelop you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of her perfume brought tears to your eyes as you returned her hug, feeling a sense of comfort and homecoming wash over you.

You nodded as Susan spoke, absorbing the news of Duke Rupert's accident with a heavy heart. The realization that your stepfather had passed away hit you like a wave, stirring emotions you had long buried.

"I'm so sorry. What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine concern as you reached out to grasp Susan's hand for support.

Susan sighed her expression a mixture of sadness and frustration. "That silly old man's, I told him not to ride a horse, but he insisted and he fell," she explained, her tone tinged with regret. "Rupert always well-prepared, but I don't know why he really insisted on riding a horse that day."

Before you could respond, the sound of another voice broke through the somber atmosphere. "Thank God you're here," the voice exclaimed, drawing your attention. You turned to see your stepbrother, Charles, standing before you.

But your breath caught in your throat when you saw him wearing priestly attire. "Charles?" you uttered in disbelief, your eyes widening in surprise.

Charles opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm hug, his presence comforting despite the unexpected change in his appearance. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his handshake firm and sincere as he greeted you.

You were speechless, your mind struggling to process the transformation before you. There was a warmth in Charles's eyes, a genuine kindness that seemed to radiate from within him. He was different from the last time you saw him, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him in his new role.

"Are you wearing a cassock?" you finally managed to ask, your voice filled with curiosity as you glanced at Charles's attire.

Susan gently pinched your arm, her expression amused yet reproachful. "Silly girl, this is why you should reply to my letters, phone calls, and emails," she chided gently. "Charles has become a priest."

"I know you will find it hard to believe. But I went through a miracle that made me fully believed in God." As Charles spoke of his newfound faith, you struggled to reconcile this revelation with the memory of Charlie, who once hurled harsh words at you.

Then you heard a familiar voice, cutting through the tension like a knife. "You're here."

It was Charlotte, Charles's twin sister. Her gaze bore into you with the same disdain it always had, unchanged after all these years.

Charlotte was never one to hide her feelings about you. From the moment your mother brought you into their lives, she had seen you as nothing more than an unwanted burden.

Your mother's marriage to the Duke had brought you into a world of privilege and resentment. While your stepfather had become a father figure you'd never had, it came at the cost of your relationship with your own mother. Susan was desperate to fit into her new role as Duchess, and you were often left feeling like an outsider in your own home.

The Duke's children, Charles and Charlotte, had quickly formed a bond with your mother, leaving you feeling like an intruder in your own family. They resented you for stealing their father's attention, and the tension between you had only grown over the years.

Living at Evergreen Abbey had always felt like walking on eggshells. That's why, as soon as you came of age, you left for the United States and joined the army, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of the manor.

Charlotte's cold gaze was a painful reminder of the resentment that had always simmered beneath the surface. "Let's get this over with, please," she said, her words dripping with disdain.

"What does it mean?" you asked, scanning the room for answers but finding only silence and the weight of years of unresolved conflict hanging heavy in the air.

You couldn't believe your eyes as Charles stood before you, now a priest leading your stepfather's funeral. Rupert's passing seemed surreal, and as they closed the casket, you had a chance to see his face one last time.

His face looked different, smiling unnaturally due to the glue used to preserve it. It starkly contrasted the smile you remembered, and you regretted not seeing Rupert one last time before this moment. Placing a red rose near his casket, you whispered, "I'm going to miss you."

During the burial, your gaze wandered, and you noticed a little boy standing near your mother.

But someone standing alone amidst the gathering of family and guests caught your attention. Who is he?

After the burial concluded, the house filled with guests offering condolences. The strange man also disappeared. Susan and Charles gracefully accepted their sympathies, while Charlotte's whereabouts only God knows.

Amidst the crowd, you heard a gentle voice call your name. "Y/N?"

Turning around, you saw Eddie standing there. "Eddie? How are you?" You greeted him with a side hug, grateful for the familiarity in the midst of the somber occasion.

Eddie hugged you back, offering his condolences as you shared a moment of solace amid the chaos of the gathering.

Eddie's inquiry about your military service brought back memories, including a long-kept secret: you used to have a crush on him. It was partly why you joined the army, sharing a dream of serving alongside him. "Yeah," you answered, still groggy from the day's emotions.

"What about you? Did you join the army too?"

Eddie chuckled. "I did, but I left to pursue a business."

You nodded, finding it fitting for him. "You're looking more like a duke these days."

Taking a sip of water, Eddie revealed a surprising truth. "I am. I became a duke after my father passed."

Your shock was evident. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Eddie's chuckle held a hint of understanding. "Yeah, after you left, you sort of cut contacts with everyone."

You hesitated, recalling the mention of a will by Cedric. "What about your family tradition? Isn't your older brother supposed to be the duke?"

Eddie's expression shifted slightly. "It changed after my father's will."

Your unease grew as thoughts of Rupert's will resurfaced. Eddie noticed your worry and reached out, touching your hand. "Hey, if you need me, just call me."

Grateful for his support, you managed a small smile. "Thanks, Eddie."

########

As everyone sat waiting for the lawyer, a new presence entered the room. A little boy, perhaps around 10 years old, joined the gathering, taking a seat beside Charlotte. He stole occasional glances in your direction, his curiosity evident in his wide-eyed gaze.

Unable to contain your surprise, you turned to Charlotte and asked, "You have a child?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes in response, her annoyance palpable, while Charles chuckled softly at the exchange.

Feeling a familiar pinch on your arm, you turned to see Susan giving you a reproachful look. "This is why you should've answered my calls. He's your brother," she scolded gently.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Huh?!" you exclaimed, your mind struggling to comprehend the revelation as you glanced back at the little boy sitting beside Charlotte, a newfound sense of connection dawning within you. Now his face and future look similar to yours.

You found yourself at a loss for words, grappling with the sudden revelation of a long-lost sibling. The realization that you had cut off all contact when you joined the army weighed heavily on your conscience, leaving you with a profound sense of regret for the years of missed connections and lost opportunities.

Running a hand through your face, you let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past 15 years bearing down on you like a heavy burden. "Will there be another surprise?" you wondered aloud, the question hanging in the air as you braced yourself for whatever other unexpected twists fate had in store for you.

A few minutes later, Cedric, the lawyer, strode into the room with purpose, placing his briefcase on the table before retrieving the file. With a solemn expression, he began to read aloud the contents of Duke Rupert's will.

"Everyone will get a share of his insurance and investments," Cedric announced, his voice measured and professional. "Except Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of resignation at the news, having expected as much given the strained dynamics within the family. Glancing around the room, you noted the acceptance in your mother's and the twins' expressions, as if they had anticipated this outcome.

But then, Cedric's next words shattered the calm facade that had settled over the room. "For the Evergreen Abbey Manor and the title, I hereby give it to Y/N L/N," he continued, his voice resolute.

Your shock was palpable, the expletive escaping your lips before you could stop it.

'HUH?!'

"What the fuck?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events as the weight of Duke Rupert's decision settled heavily upon you.

As Charles let out a disbelieving "Hoo," and Charlotte expressed her relief with a curt "Great, not my problem anymore," the tension in the room seemed to escalate.

'Wait. The twins aren't angry?'

Your mother reached out, gently squeezing your hand and offering a reassuring look, her silent support a comforting anchor amidst the chaos unfolding around you.

"Why do I feel like I'm carrying a bomb in my hand?" you muttered, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

Cedric adjusted his glasses, his expression grave as he spoke. "When you became the Lady of this house... Your grace, pardon me that I have to tell you this," he began carefully. "The former Duke had debts, and he was involved in what we might call 'creative' work."

"You mean drugs, gambling, and the like?" you interjected, your voice laced with disbelief.

Susan shot you a warning glance, her lips forming a silent reprimand. "You shouldn't say that word in front of your brother," she whispered, her tone urgent.

Turning to her younger son, she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's not drugs, but weed," she clarified softly.

"Oh, wow. Now I feel relieved," you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you as you struggled to come to terms with the unexpected revelations about Duke Rupert's illicit activities.

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, the enormity of the situation sinking in. "How much is the debt?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"8 million pounds," Cedricbreplied solemnly, his tone grave.

Charles made the sign of the cross a gesture of disbelief. "Oh Lord," he murmured under his breath.

"And he wants me to repay the debt when I never took a single cent?" you exclaimed, incredulity coloring your words as you struggled to comprehend the injustice of it all.

"Was he high when he wrote the will? Why me?!!"

Sighing heavily, you turned your gaze towards the imposing manor, its grandeur now overshadowed by the weight of Duke Rupert's debts. "Can I just sell this manor?" you wondered aloud, desperation creeping into your voice.

"It will take months or years, Your Grace. And the debt has to be paid by the end of this month," Cedric explained, punctuated by a sense of urgency.

But before you could act on your impulse, Susan's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with urgency and apprehension. "You can't sell the manor," she interjected, her gaze pleading with you to reconsider.

Confusion flickered in your eyes as you turned to face her, a mix of frustration and resignation bubbling up inside you. "Why not?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Susan's response was swift, her words carrying the weight of years of pent-up frustration and resentment. "If you sell the manor, I would lose my title as a duchess," she explained, her voice quavering with emotion.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up memories of the strained relationship that had defined your interactions with Susan over the years. Her obsession with upholding the image of a perfect duchess had driven a wedge between you, leaving your relationship fraught with tension and resentment.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of Duke Rupert's debts and the expectations thrust upon you by your title, you couldn't help but feel a sense of bitterness creeping in.

You let out another sigh, resigned to the reality of the situation. "I need a drink," you muttered, the thought of seeking solace in the most potent alcohol near the lake seeming like the only reprieve from the turmoil raging inside you.

As you sat by the lake's tranquil waters, the weight of the situation bearing down on you, regret began to seep into your thoughts like a creeping mist.

Coming back here had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of Duke Rupert's debts and the burden they placed upon you, you couldn't help but wonder if it had been a mistake.

Taking a sip of your whiskey, you allowed the warmth of the liquid to wash over you, momentarily easing the turmoil in your mind. But even the soothing embrace of alcohol couldn't dispel the unease gnawing at your insides.

Lost in your thoughts, you were startled when a small figure approached, breaking the silence that had settled over the lakeside. You glanced up to see your little stepbrother, Hugo, standing before you with a tentative expression on his face.

"Uh, hi. Hello. I'm your older sister," you greeted awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

Hugo returned your greeting with a shy smile. "Hi, step-bro. Hugo. Ten years old," he introduced himself, his voice soft and uncertain.

An awkward silence hung between you, the gap between your worlds feeling vast and insurmountable. Sensing the tension, you made an effort to bridge the divide.

"You want to walk?" you offered, gesturing towards the path that wound its way around the edge of the lake.

Hugo hesitated for a moment before nodding hesitantly. "Hmm...," he murmured, his eyes brightening with a hint of curiosity as he took a tentative step forward, ready to embark on this uncertain journey with you.

As you and Hugo began to playfully throw stones into the lake, the tension between you gradually dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie born from the simple joy of shared activity.

"So, Hugo, do you know what's happening at the household?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You had learned in the military that children often possessed an innate honesty that could shed light on complex situations.

Hugo paused in his stone-throwing, considering your question for a moment before responding. "Walls have ears, and the workers always gossip," he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with wisdom beyond his years.

Impressed by his insight, you couldn't help but smile. "Wow," you remarked, genuinely impressed by Hugo's observation. "Do you want to share?" you prompted, curious to hear his perspective on the goings-on within the household.

As Hugo shared his insights, you listened intently, surprised by the depth of understanding hidden behind his youthful facade.

"Charlie doesn't want to take the house because of the debt, and he wants to become a pope," Hugo explained matter-of-factly, his words carrying a weight of resignation.

You responded with a puzzled "Huh?"

"And Charlotte doesn't care since she's going to marry a prince. She doesn't want anything related to Dad's 'creative work.' It will ruin her image."

"Her image? She's marrying a prince?" you interjected, your incredulity evident in your tone.

Hugo regarded you with a knowing look. "You're really ignorant, huh?" he remarked bluntly, his words stinging with a hint of playful teasing.

Feeling a pang of embarrassment at being corrected by a child, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "Hey..." you started, but Hugo continued without missing a beat.

"Sis Charlotte has quite millions of followers on social media," he elaborated, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration. "If her name is connected to weed and family debt—"

"It will ruin her image, and she'll have to pay the penalty," you finished, the implications sinking in as you processed Hugo's words. "Wait, how old are you again?" you asked, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement at the maturity of his observations.

Hugo raised both hands, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Ten," he replied, the innocence of his youth juxtaposed against the weight of the knowledge he carried.

You chuckled softly, taking another sip of your whiskey as you observed Hugo with newfound respect. Children were indeed frighteningly perceptive these days, and you made a mental note to tread carefully around him in the future.

You looked at the lake and sighed again. No wonder Charlie felt relieved upon seeing you. He wouldn't have to worry about these things. If his past caught up with him while pursuing his path to becoming a pope, it would ruin everything for him.

As for Charlotte, nothing ever seems to be enough for her. If her future in-laws from the royal family were to find out about this business, they would likely cancel her marriage.

So it's obvious they were relieved when Rupert chose you as the heir.

As both of you made your way back home, your senses went on high alert as you spotted a black Range Rover parked near the entrance. The sight of the familiar car sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

He's the man who watched Rupert's funeral from afar.

"Hugo, go inside," you instructed quietly, your voice tinged with urgency as you gestured for him to retreat to the safety of the house.

The man who emerged from the car was none other than the same individual you had seen at the funeral. James Barnes, or "Bucky" as he preferred to be called, approached you with a confident stride, his demeanor exuding an air of authority.

"Sorry to disturb your afternoon walk," Bucky began, his voice smooth and polite. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm James Barnes, but you could call me Bucky."

You nodded in acknowledgment, your guard instinctively rising as you braced yourself for whatever news he had come to deliver. "How can I help you, Mr. Barnes?" you inquired, your tone guarded yet polite.

"It's difficult for me to say while you're still grieving," Bucky admitted, his expression sympathetic. "But the former duke owed money to us."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "You see, Mr. Barnes, I just got here two days ago after 15 years," you explained wearily, the weight of Duke Rupert's legacy pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at your revelation, his interest piqued. "Yeah, Rupert mentioned it a couple of times," he remarked casually.

"Did he?" you muttered under your breath, feeling a surge of annoyance at Duke Rupert's apparent penchant for gossip.

"Let's continue this at the office," you suggested tersely, eager to put some distance between yourself and the unsettling presence of James Barnes.

As you stepped into Rupert's office for the first time, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, mingling with the lingering scent of his cigar and the familiar musk that seemed to permeate the room. It was a scent you had grown accustomed to over the years, a reminder of the man who had once occupied this space.

Pouring another whiskey for yourself and a glass for Bucky, you couldn't help but feel a pang of melancholy as you reflected on the memories associated with this room. Duke Rupert's presence seemed to linger in every corner, his larger-than-life persona casting a shadow over the space.

Bucky took a moment to savor the whiskey, his expression one of appreciation. "Your step-dad always did have a good collection of alcohol," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words as he raised his glass in a silent toast.

You nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in his words. Despite the complexities of his character, Duke Rupert had always taken pride in his impressive selection of drinks, a testament to his refined taste and penchant for the finer things in life.

Taking a sip of your drink, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence in the air. "Do you have business with my step-dad?" you asked, your tone cautious as you eyed Bucky across the desk.

Bucky's admission hung heavy in the air as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of responsibility and obligation.

"I lent him my money and I protected him," he explained, his tone tinged with a sense of duty.

"Why? His weed business didn't work out?" you asked, curiosity piqued by the revelation.

Bucky shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "It was successful. But he had a change of heart and wanted out. And his boss didn't like it. That's where I came in," he elaborated, his expression grave.

"Eight million pounds. Is all because of you?" you queried, the enormity of the debt now beginning to make sense.

Bucky tilted his head, his gaze meeting yours with a solemn intensity. "The price of the damage I got for protecting your step-dad. I gained more enemies," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

Setting down your whiskey glass, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. Despite the tangled web of intrigue and deceit surrounding Duke Rupert, at least his involvement in the weed business was not the cause of his debts.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Options seemed limited, and each path forward appeared fraught with challenges and uncertainties.

Glancing at the bank statements and stock reports spread out on the desk before you, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Duke Rupert's financial situation was far from ideal, and the prospect of producing eight million pounds seemed increasingly daunting.

Your mother's reluctance to sell the manor only added to the complexity of the situation. Despite the financial burden it represented, the estate held sentimental value for her, serving as a tangible connection to Duke Rupert and the life they had built together.

The twins' indifference to the predicament only further highlighted the sense of isolation you felt in confronting this dilemma alone. But then your thoughts turned to Hugo, the youngest member of the family, and the realization dawned on you that the manor held a special significance for him as well.

Selling off the artwork and alcohol collection was a possibility, but the process would take time, and the prospect of navigating the complexities of the open market and taxation only added to the uncertainty.

With few options left to consider, you knew that your best course of action was to confront the man himself. Despite your reservations, you couldn't ignore the fact that Bucky held the key to unraveling the mystery of Duke Rupert's debts.

As the desire to return to the U.S. gnawed at you, a sense of urgency washed over you, driving you to seek resolution as quickly as possible. But with time ticking away and the weight of responsibility bearing on your shoulders, you knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and sacrifices.

You sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling upon your shoulders. "What options do I have?

Bucky's smile was almost too slick, his finger pointing at you like a loaded gun. "I really like your attitude, Your Grace. Straight to the point," he remarked, his voice smooth as silk.

As he unbuttoned his suit and slid his hands into his pocket pants, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a dark cloud. "I'm also intrigued by your career as an expert in bombs," he continued, his words sending a chill down your spine.

A knot of unease tightened in your stomach as you braced yourself for what was to come. "Go on," you replied tersely, the tension crackling in the air between you.

With a calculated gesture, Bucky brought his hands together, the glint of gold rings catching the light and adding an air of menace to his demeanor. "I will make the debt of 8 million pounds disappear. If you help me," he declared, his tone dripping with promise.

Your heart skipped a beat at the audacity of his offer, the implications of his words sinking in like a lead weight. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he finally spoke. "I've got more competition after I helped Rupert. Thinking about it gives me headaches. That's where you come in," he explained cryptically, his words laden with hidden meaning.

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The silence stretched between you, thick with tension, until Bucky finally broke it with a chilling revelation. "I want you to create an explosion. To get rid of them," he stated bluntly, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering intensity.

"Fuck!"

Cursing under your breath, you cast a wary glance at the painting of Rupert hanging on the wall. His eyes seemed to bore into you, judging your every move. As an army EOD technician, the thought of making a bomb for a criminal to pay off a debt filled you with a sense of dread.

Regret gnawed at you like a festering wound as you grappled with the weight of the decision before you. Coming back home had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, faced with the reality of the situation, you couldn't help but wish you had never returned.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ ⭒˚FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

—part two

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem! archangel raphael! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: friends to enemies, so it's angsty

notes: hehehehe idk yeah, this is now a series of sort 🤯 also, eat well simps /affectionate. I'll be basing off the seven virtues' appearance off from esbellesantos' Fanart but I wouldn't like fully follow their headcanon personality and make a different personality for them.

Part One | Part Three | THE SEVEN VIRTUES

So many years have passed after Lucifer's trial, during those years [y/n]'s gigantic and majestic wings finally grew. Three pairs of majestic wings now prodding on her back, a golden halo on top of her head. The [y/n] that was just a background character has now risen up the ranks, God seeing her potential and granted her the title of archangel, now one of the seven virtues of heaven.

[y/n] who was once upbeat and cheerful has now grown cold and mature as she took the responsibility god has placed upon her shoulders. Heart closed to other immortal beings but opened to the mortal ones.

She rules a specific area of the skies, as the seven virtues are tasked to watch their own territory and to make sure to maintain peace and order with the heavenly beings.

She sat on the chair just by her balcony, a small table in front of her. A cup of steaming coffee on the table as she read a newspaper containing some daily heavenly news. A gold wedding ring on her ring finger. She stared at the bright, white, and blue scenery outside her home. Clouds all over the place, other lower ranked angels flying around.

She lives in a huge mansion by herself despite being married.

“Darling I am here~!” a male spoke as the sound of the door to the living room was slammed open. Speaking of her husband, familiar footsteps tapping on the pristine white and gold marbled tiles as the person arrived to the balcony of the living room.

“Azrael, to what do I owe you the pleasure?” [y/n] asked, gently placing back down her coffee cup on to the table. Tilting her head to look at her husband. Tall, slender, mischievous.

Don't get her wrong, she and Azrael don't like each other romantically but they are more on platonic. They only got married... Well... Because of boredom and they did promised each other to marry each other if they remained single even when they've reached a certain age. They promised to divorce each other if they find the one that is right for them. Despite their odd friendship, the two trust each other a lot. Azrael was one being there for her when Lucifer fell from grace.

“I just have some news to share with you, I think this will catch your interest dear.” Azrael winked at her, leaning against his black staff. Eyes half lidded as he awaited for her reaction.

[y/n]'s eyes stopped moving along the words of the paper she was reading, tilting her head to look at the taller angel with curiosity, eyebrow raised. “Really now? Tell me dearie.” she says with a smirk, lifting her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips.

“Lucifer apparently wants to have a meeting with heaven. He wanted to propose another idea of his.” Azrael says with a smirk, his smirk widening as he watched [y/n] choked on her drink.

She clears her throat, getting the caffeine out of her esophagus. The revelation brought back so many memories that it caught her off guard.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked again, eyes blinking. Having second thoughts whether she heard him wrong.

Azrael crosses his arms and smirks, “You heard me, he's coming up here to tell us about his plans for the wayward souls down there.”

“Really now?” [y/n] asked with a scoff, wiping her lips with a clean white cloth. She lost her hope in humanity, she believes that the people who didn't properly use the free will gifted to them by Lucifer, shouldn't be given another chance as they wasted that opportunity to live a good life.

“I doubt that the others would agree to whatever plan he has to show.” [y/n] says, sipping her coffee once more.

Azrael laughs, wiping a tear off his eye. “My, you used to agree with his views. To see you disregard his plans before even hearing is just too cruel, [y/n]” he says with a mischievous smile on his face, a sing-song tone in his voice.

“They got gifted free will and look what they have done with it. I believe those souls are better off staying down there and looking back at the times they could've done better.” [y/n] says coldly.

Azrael shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Well, I don't really care about mortal life that much considering I am the angel of death. My duty is to guide them to the afterlife.” he says, shrugging. Walking to the railings of the balcony and leans his back against it.

“Well, that's the only reason I came here. I have duties to attend to and the meeting will be happening in a few days. I'm sure it would be quite a lovely reunion with all eight of us.” Azrael says with a smirk, excited how the meeting will go with all seven virtues plus Lucifer in the same room. He can tell it would be tense and chaotic.

“Good luck in your work.” [y/n] says with a lazy shrug making the taller angel laugh.

“Adios~” he says before disappearing in a puff of sparkly black smoke.

Turning back to the world outside her home, dull [e/c] eyes looking over the blue horizon. She sighs, closing her eyes as she sighs.

“A meeting huh, it's been awhile since I've last seen him.” she mutters, eyes opening. Cold and calculative. “This should be interesting.”

Timeskip to a few days later...

Lucifer paced back and forth inside his room, a guest room heaven prepared for him. The meeting would happen in two hours and he is beyond nervous. It took so much time to convince them to listen to him but they finally agreed because he persisted.

He expected that it will be only Sera to judge his plans, the anxiety and fear he felt when Sera told him that the seven virtues themselves would grant him an audience to his plans for hell.

He doesn't know much about the seven virtues as it was only implemented a few years after his fall but he knew that it consists of powerful angels that kept the order and peace of heaven. He can list a few angels that are probably one of the seven virtues.

But despite all this, his heart has been aching. He's in heaven, he's standing on the same ground as [y/n]. He misses her, so goddamn much.

Did she miss him too? Probably not.

Remembering how bad their goodbye was, there wasn't any to begin with.

Lucifer sighs, patting up his dark pink suit to ease up the creases. Despite the years that have already gone by, [y/n] never left his heart. He never forgets, every detail of his world no matter how miniscule it is... He can't help but think, [y/n] would've loved this, this is her favorite color, her favorite food, and etc.

He loves Lilith but he also loves [y/n] (more even!) and he knows it's too late to admit that and he's afraid to admit to himself that... He may have made the wrong choice of ignoring her advances.

His gloved hands moved to his collar, adjusting it. “Don't think about her Lucifer, you have a meeting to do and this is for the sake of your people and family.” he says to himself. Taking deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart.

He is ready to propose his plan on making a hotel to redeem sinners.

The seven virtues of heaven sat in a u-shaped table, all seven virtues wearing a mask that hides their faces. In front of them stood a very nervous Lucifer.

Not a single one of them aside from Lucifer talked, they listened to him talk about his plans for hell.

It is a good plan but without proof, it is useless.

“With the hotel, I am sure sinners would find a way to redeem themselves and join you guys here in heaven.” Lucifer says, a nervous smile on his face as he ends his presentation. Standing in front of the seven virtues is a real nerve wrecking. He can sense the power emitting from each and every one of them. One wrong move and he's done for.

“The idea is cute and all but without evidence, this... This is completely useless.” Gabriel says, a bored tone in her voice as she lazily held the folder filled with the details of Lucifer's plan and letting it fall into the table with a loud thud.

Lucifer flinches from her remark and the sound of his hopes and dreams of his people hitting with a loud thud on the table from Gabriel's actions.

“I agree.” Michael says, removing his mask. A mischievous smile on his face. “Lucifer, you don't know what these mortal souls are capable of. How can you be so sure the hotel would work if you yourself aren't sure they wanted to redeem themselves in the first place?” Michael asked, voice filled with authority, eyebrows raised as he asked the question, looking down on his twin brother, Lucifer.

Lucifer flinches, starting to get nervous.

“Well... We wouldn't know if we'd tr—” he says but getting cut off.

“You've never seen the horrors and atrocities these mortal souls commit with their free will. War, corruption, death, murder, drugs... Anything you can name it. What makes you think these people would want to make themselves better?” Jophiel says, his voice shaking. A laugh escaping his lips as he remembers the horrors he's seen on earth, a mocking laughter.

“They're truly terrible, these souls don't have a place here in heaven.” Michael sneered.

Azrael just smirked as he watched the scene unfold, [y/n] keeping quiet beside him. His hand intertwined with hers to comfort her.

“But they're souls, human souls just the same with the one's up here in heaven.” Lucifer defended, clenching his fists.

“They are not the same, the souls here in heaven have earned it.” Camuel says with a smile, finally removing his own mask.

“Ugh, the work I have to do carrying each soul to their destination is quite tiring. Annoying even. Especially when a soul curses at me for bringing them to hell when they only have themselves to blame.” Azrael says with a groan, smirking as he removes his mask. Looking at Lucifer challengingly.

Lucifer's eyes widened at the cruelty of their words, six virtues now staring at him face-to-face, aside from one virtue who kept quiet.

“Well, each one of us already said our opinion aside from Raphael here... Or should I say, [y/n]? Do you have something to say?” Azrael says, a teasing smile on his face. [Y/n] glaring at Azrael as she slightly squeezed his hand.

Lucifer's eyes widened, heart beating faster than ever before when he heard the name. Even more so when the last virtue removed her mask.

Cold, bored, calculative, and dull.

No longer the bright sparkling [e/c] eyes Lucifer loved before.

“Is this even necessary? All of you had already said what needed to be said.” [y/n] says, removing her hand from Azrael's as she leans her elbows on the table. Putting her chin on her knuckle. A lazy and bored look on her face. A shiny gold band on her ring finger, a wedding ring.

She's married? He asked himself but that question isn't too important as he is focused on something else. How cold she is. That something Lucifer isn't quite used to.

The others looked at [y/n] expectantly making the woman sigh, “Very well then, I would have to agree with the others.” she says coldly.

This isn't his [y/n]. Where was the [y/n] who used to be so kind, bright, cheerful, and had hopes for humanity? What happened to her?

Lucifer stood in fear, not knowing how to act now that [y/n] is revealed to be one of his audience.

“Humans. They are selfish and vile creatures. Destroying the planet our creator had given them, killing and hurting their own kind. Poverty, hunger, corruption, death. If you haven't given them the apple, they would be living in peace and harmony and with no worry in eden but you took that away from them and now they're doomed to suffer.” [y/n] coldly explained. “You cannot see it personally and that is your burden to carry, your punishment.”

Lucifer can't speak, mind blanking as a loud ringing was heard on his ears. Hands shaking, he couldn't breathe.

Where was the one person who believed in him? Did he fucked up so much to even lose her too?

“You're really mad huh?” Azrael says, placing a hand over his cheek. A similar gold band on his ring finger. Lucifer's eyes widened.

Azrael is married to her. Lucifer thought. Defeated.

“Well, this court finds no evidence that this hotel would be effective. I suggest you leave now or you'll face the consequences.” Michael says, voice is booming and filled with authority. The other virtues glaring at him. Halo's shining down on Lucifer as if to mock him, to show him that they are in power.

Why do you still look so disappointed in me? More so even?

Lucifer asked, looking at [y/n] who avoided his gaze.

Azrael showing off his wedding ring to him with a smirk on his face, making Lucifer's eye twitch.

“This meeting is over.” Michael says, glaring down on Lucifer. “Leave or else you'll suffer the consequences.” Michael says, angelic weapons now aimed warningly at him.

Fear coursing through his veins, Lucifer left. Despite wanting to stay and talk to her, he couldn't. Poofing away in a cloud of sparkly red smoke.

“You okay?” Azrael asked beside her as they flew back to their respective territories. Passing by many clouds, the skies now have a dark shade of blue as the sun has set a few hours ago.

“Nope, but I will eventually.” she says with a sigh making the dark haired male smile.

“You know, I didn't expect him to be so small. You used to be the same height but now you're taller than him.” Azrael mutters with a small laugh.

“They don't have the sun there, Azrael. They don't have the necessary vitamins to grow taller.” [y/n] says with a small laugh. The joke making the male angel laugh hysterically.

“HAHAHAHA! Since when did you make such jokes [n/n]? A really dark one too!” he says before winking at her, “No pun intended.”

The unintended pun making the girl chuckle. Azrael smiled, happy he got to make her smile after that stressful meeting.

I based off the seven virtues here aside from Raphael and Azrael image.

Also, I based this off from the "more than anything" song that Lucifer tried to look for ways to help his people and also based off from that one panel of an episode (I forgot which one) where he was wearing the same outfit Charlie is wearing, the pink suit? Yeah, I imagined he did the hotel concept and told Charlie about it.

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[thefallennightmare]

Dreamstate-Noah Sebastian x Reader[JP UNIVERSE]

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Hi my loves! JP has been around for ONE YEAR! I am so thankful for all of you. I appreciate every single one of you more than I can ever express. This one-shot takes place between chapters 29 and 30! Also please know that I do not mean any disrespect to Keaton or his memory. Everything I've ever written was done with love and appreciation for him like I've done from the beginning. 🪽🖤 I will not hold it against you if you do not want to read because of it. But please know, that it's done with the utmost respect.

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THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

NOAH

Blinking my eyes open, I looked around my surroundings and noticed that I was no longer in my bedroom fighting with Y/N. I was on the tour bus, our tour bus, and when I craned my head to the side to peer out the window in my bunk, I sucked in a breath at what I saw. An oddly familiar venue with a red roof. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered while rolling out of my bunk on the tour bus. “How hard did I hit my head last night?” 

During my fight with Y/N, she threw one of her sketchbooks at me in frustration and it hit me directly in the middle of my forehead. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up here in our tour bus. We didn’t have a tour planned which made this whole scene even more confusing. I stretched out my long limbs, feeling the bones pop into place, as I walked towards the front area of the bus and made it outside, wondering where the rest of the guys were. 

“Jolly? Nicholas?” I called out. 

A sudden commotion on the far end of the bus caused me to whirl around and my heart thundered in my chest with the sight before me. It wasn’t the group of people that gave me pause. It was the lone female in the group with her long blonde hair and familiar smile that made my skin slick with sweat. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm sure they've already said this but we're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows,” Nicholas smiled while extending his hand towards the familiar blonde. 

"Shit, you guys sure know how to make a girl blush," she laughed lightly while bouncing on the soles of her feet.

“Y/N,” I breathed. 

"Malcolm, your directions-." 

Just as footsteps thundered down the steps of the bus behind me, the scene around me spun on its axis and darkness crept in. Bile rose in my throat as I felt my body being lurched forward onto the cold concrete, scraping up my palms and knees. 

“I should not have had that gas station burrito,” I grumbled while clutching my stomach. 

Slowly rising to my feet, I leaned my hand up against a car I had been literally thrown in front of, suddenly making me tilt my head towards it. This wasn’t the tour bus I had stepped down moments ago. In fact, I was in an entirely different place than before. 

“This is one fucked up dream,” I dragged my hand down my face. 

An angry voice from the other side of the van had me stepping around it slowly, not wanting to be detected on the off chance this wasn’t a dream and I was sneaking up on someone who could kill me. 

"You don't have to worry about Noah hurting her. That's the farthest thing from his mind. He might be stubborn as hell but when he cares about someone, he makes sure they know that,” Nicholas smiled over towards Chase and Malcolm. 

Furrowing my brows, I glanced over to Folio, seeing him shake out his hair before putting his hat back on. "He's a Scorpio, what did you expect?" 

“That was fucking rude,” I muttered under my breath. 

"Whether or not they admit it, they both need each other," Jolly smiled down over the cliff. 

Peering over the hood of the car, I saw two faint figures on the beach and sucked in a breath; all the memories from our beach day came flooding back in as Y/N and myself waved up at the group of guys. 

“How hard did she hit me with that sketchbook?” I rubbed at my forehead, still feeling the sting from earlier. 

It was clear that I was dreaming of past moments Y/N and I shared but I couldn’t get over how real and vivid everything was. Almost as if I traveled back in time to these moments and saw it from a different perspective, not my own. 

Why was I dreaming of these moments? Did it have a meaning? Or was it just because my brain was fucked up from all of the fighting Y/N and I had gone through?

Before I could get comfortable in this dreamstate, I felt the darkness creep in on the edge of my vision once again and all at once, my body was thrown through a tunnel only to be spat out seconds later; a different scenery from the last. 

I was now in a hotel room, unsure when and where because frankly from the years of touring the hotel rooms began to blend together. It was then that I got a look at myself in the reflection of the mirror in the room and I sighed. My hair was short, indicating what I already knew. I’d been jumping in between moments from my past. 

“Hi, angel.”

“Hi,” a soft voice broke through the quiet of the room, causing me to look over at the bed. 

No. 

My past self sat on the bed with Y/N, her head in my lap as I ran my fingers through her hair. It was evident no one could see me because I was standing at the foot of the bed, watching as my past self lowered his lips onto Y/N's, capturing them softly. 

Our first kiss. 

My heart fluttered in the confines in my chest, remembering the feeling that filled me that day. Through the dread and intense sadness from losing my best friend that day, Y/N’s unwavering comfort eased away the darkness that crept in. 

“About time, huh? I’d been trying to set you two up for years.” 

My body froze at the voice that lingered in the air; the familiar voice that I hadn’t heard in years.  I choked while whirling around at the voice, ignoring the couple in the bed who were muttering something about Mario Kart. 

The room spun rapidly before I could get my bearings, the floor getting ripped out from beneath me and my body slammed back and forth against the void before I fell onto a couch in yet another room. This one I immediately recognized, all of those feelings of hurt and abandonment crept back in as I let out a shuddering breath. 

My past self, donning those ridiculous braids, dragged a finger over the large tattoo on Y/N’s back as she cuddled the pillow close to her chest, a soft giggle echoing in the room. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

My eyes screwed shut, knowing what was going to come next. The calm before the storm. All because I asked a stupid question. 

“Think of how far you’ve come from this moment, Noah. It was rough getting there but it was worth it.”

Snapping my eyes open, I glanced around the room looking for his face. It was his voice, surely he had to be here. 

“Where are you?” I said. 

As I blinked, the scene changed yet again and now I was standing in the rain, it chilling me to the bone. Wrapping myself deeper into my hoodie, I gazed around to see my past self standing in the rain as well with Y/N, trying to stop her from getting in her car. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” My past self nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I watched myself enunciate every word with a pound fist to my chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, I grasped her face to bring her into my warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

The pain in my own chest was evident, remembering how gut wrenching it felt to ask repeatedly what Y/N wanted. That night had started off great, only to be ruined by Bailey. It was my fault ultimately for not being clearer about our breakup. I tried not to dwell on it much because of how far Y/N and I have come since this night. 

A snicker sounded from my left. “Did you really quote The Notebook? Never pegged you as a romance film kind of guy.” 

Looking at the voice, I let out a gasp when the all too familiar smirk appeared on a face I hadn’t seen in years; one that my heart yearned to see again. His form began to fade in the darkness as it danced around both of us, dragging us back down. 

“No. Please, wait!” I reached for him only to be thrown into yet another memory. 

How long had I been asleep? Did this fucking sketchbook render me useless? Was I passed out on the floor of our bedroom? 

Another thing I couldn’t figure out: why was I being thrusted into my own memory lane?

A commotion of voices halted me as I stood in a crowd of people, still undetected, and when I caught a flash of red, my breath caught in my throat knowing exactly what memory I’d been thrown into. I no longer was soaked to the bone due to the rain; I was dry. 

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

The music echoed loudly in the room and I frantically looked for the couch, knowing my past self would have been sitting there. I watched as he rose from his seated position and started to push his way through the crowd, looking for Y/N as our song played; a siren call looking for their lost soulmate.

“This was one of the most irritating moments of my life,” I sighed while crossing my arms over my chest, watching as our past selves kept missing each other. 

“Do you know how hard it was to make sure you guys found each other at the right moment that night?” That voice snickered behind me. 

Whirling around, I saw those eyes that shined bright with so much light. Just like before, the second I caught sight of him, he disappeared before I could grasp him. I wasn’t sure what was more irritating: being thrown around in an imaginary void or not being able to fully see the presence that had been following me. 

For quite longer than I thought, apparently. 

Expecting to be dragged down into another memory, I simply turned on my heels to see I was now standing in a hotel hallway. My past self stood no more than two feet in front of me, hand rubbing at his chest. The words he muttered fell on deaf ears as my eyes locked with the man holding my past self up. I knew I felt someone's arms around me that day, keeping me from falling to my knees. 

“Keaton, I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.” 

As a soft breeze blew past the three of us in the middle of the hallway, I kept my eyes locked with the materializing figure over my past self’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been with me this entire time,” I breathed with the realization. 

He wore a soft smile as he nodded, before slowly fading away. “It’s okay.”

Then all at once, the world around me shifted one final time, throwing me back into my bedroom at home and I fell onto the bed with a grunt. It seemed like I was back to where I was before I went on a dream walk down memory lane, Y/N’s scattered sketchbook on the floor at my feet. Movement in front of me caught my eye as I slowly rose and tentatively walked over to the bathroom, seeing Y/N and me standing there. Both of them were standing in the middle of the bathroom with bright and hopeful smiles. 

“I don’t remember this,” I said with my hands on my hips. 

I watched as Y/N wrapped herself around his midsection, both of them swaying to something before they looked over to the phone on the bathroom counter with even wider smiles. 

"Should we post it?" She asked.

Other me smiled bright, love filling those once dark eyes. "Instagram story. On there less than twenty four hours. Once we post it, lets turn off our phones to just focus on us."

“How’s she doing?

Jumping at the voice over my shoulder, I finally saw him standing in front of me and not in the ghost form he’d been all those times before. 

“Keaton,” I breathed, almost immediately wrapping my arms around him in a hug. 

His infectious laughter echoed when I tackled him. “Good to see you too, Noah.” 

We stayed like that for a long moment, trying so hard to ingrain how it felt to hug my best friend again into my memory and when we eventually pulled away, I sniffled while whipping away a stray tear. 

“I miss you so much, man,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“I’m always with you, Noah. Right here,” Keaton pointed to my chest then to the tattoos on the side of my hands. “And right there.” 

Ignoring the couple behind me in the bathroom, not knowing what they were waiting for, I kept my attention on Keaton. 

“You know, when I'm sleeping I sometimes talk with you. But every time I wake up, it’s like I'm waiting for a miracle.” 

I sniffled one more time with a shrug before continuing. “Maybe when the night comes, I'll find you in another world.”

“I’m not the miracle you need, Noah. But believe, it’s closer than you think.”

“Huh?” I asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

“How’s she doing?” Keaton asked again, the colors in the room suddenly fading away, only to be replaced with a bright white light. 

My brows furrowed. “Who? Y/N?” 

Instead of answering, his smile reached his ears and bid me a final goodbye with a wink before turning on his heels and walking farther into the void of white. 

“What do you mean?!” I called out after him, desperately wanting to run after him but my feet wouldn’t move, feeling heavier than concrete. 

“In time the price of peace will cost us everything but all the love you leave carries on,” Keaton’s voice spoke in my mind one final time. 

A loud gasp fell from my lips as I sat up in bed, covered in a thick sweat as it lingered on every inch of skin. The fabric of my shirt clung to my back as I frantically looked around the room, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest. I was back in my bedroom and noticed that the sketchbook wasnt where it previously was. Matter of fact, neither was the broken picture Y/N threw at me before the sketchbook. 

My gaze locked on the date that was shining bright on our alexa home screen causing me to cock my head slightly at it, air catching in my throat. 

No. 

No way. 

It was not possible. 

“Clearly I’m dreaming again,” I murmured to myself before pursing my lips and pinching my thigh. 

“Nope, not dreaming,” I yelped in pain. 

The bed shifted next to me causing me to look down at the naked form on Y/N as she lay in a tangled mess of bedsheets and blankets. 

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile after setting her phone down on the pillow next to her. “Astrid and Faye want to meet up with me today. I guess they both have some special news they want to tell me.” 

I blinked. “Huh?” 

“I guess something happened after The Ghost Inside set with Faye last night and Astrid found out something pretty important,” Y/N said. 

I could barely speak, still being dumbfounded with the date on the Alexa home screen. 

“Maybe I'll invite them over once I'm back home from the art store. I figured it'll be alright since you have therapy and we’re not going to dinner until four,” she sat up while letting the sheet fall to her lap. 

I was still in a state of shock that I couldn’t even gaze at her perfect breasts, my mind whirling with so many different emotions. All I could do was numbly nod.

“I must say,” she smirked while brushing away the hair from my face, laying a kiss on my lips. “It’s always great to wake up to you every morning. But on my birthday, it’s extra special.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

For Voldemort, I always considered it like he has a goal (immortality), and a flaw (big ego). If he just wanted to be immortal, he'd make a few horcuxes and be done with it. He could be a recluse and study magic for centuries. But he can't just put pieces of his soul in any container. They've gotta be special, and important, and nothing is as special to old Tom as wizarding history. So he's got the founders' items, and the Gaunt ring, and they need special hiding spots, and so on. Further contrasting his goal, he can't just recluse himself from society, then he can't take over. His own ego and, well, evil-ness, means he makes enemies. This is one of my favorite writing techniques actually, where a character's goal is hampered by their flaws.

I personally think Voldemort is more complicated than this. I mean, I talked in the past about how I don't think he really wanted to live forever, and while, he would have loved to study magic, Tom can't be a recluse (hence why he returned from his world tour eventually).

I think Tom Riddle is someone who is desperate for human connection. I think, one of the things that hampers him the most is actually his need for recognition. his desire that others would know how great he is. He absolutely has an ego and thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread, but he wants everyone to know it too.

But his pride is a weird one. Like, Tom thinks he is the best, but he still considers himself not enough. He has a unique mix of self-hatred, a lot of pride and ego, and a huge dose of general spite that makes his mind fascinating, but also a hazard to everyone around him.

And I think, choosing Founders Artefacts wasn't for pride reasons or for Wizarding History (I think he cares about Magical Theory way more than any other area of magic, but I digress), but for sentimentality reasons (Dumbledore is correct about this assessment). Like Harry, Hogwarts was Tom's first and only home:

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,” said Dumbledore. “Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.” Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

(HBP)

I mean, if we look at all the items he chose as Horcruxes the only common denominator is that they were all sentimental to him:

The Diary - something very personal to him that has no historical relevance. Hell, it's a muggle diary that I headcanon he found after WWII reached Britain and that the diary, like him, was a survivor.

The Gaunt Ring - Tom didn't know this was the resurrection stone, all he knew it as was a family ring of a line that lost all it's relevance. It was made into a Horcrux because it's a reminder of his family.

The Cup - a reminder of Hogwarts, his first home.

The Locket - both a reminder of Hogwarts and his family. I think the locket was his favorite Horcrux, hence why he went to all this effort to make proper protections for it while he didn't for the others. I think he cared about what this one represented the most.

The Diadem - again a memory of Hogwarts, but also his own pride. How he found a magical artifact thought to be lost. And he placed it in a similarly prideful location — a room at Hogwarts he thought only he knew about.

Nagini - a snake he felt affection towards, this one was made as a prize for her because he liked her, no other reason.

Most of the Horcruxes didn't have unique hiding spots. I mean, the Gaunt Shack, really? Lucius Malfoy's study (the diary) hardly even counts as a hiding spot. Both the Locket's cave and the Room of Requirement are places that are sentimental for Tom personally. Places that remind him of his own accomplishments. they aren't special for any grand historical reason, they are special for Tom as a person.

So, all in all, I think Tom is much more sentimental than he is prideful. I mean, he is both, but his pride is hampered by perfectionism and self-hate much more than most read him as. Like, part of his ego is that he is unwilling to think less of himself because he hates himself and he hates that he hates himself. Like, I don't think my reading of Tom Riddle is a super popular one, but it's the only one I think makes sense.

So much of his behavior just makes much more sense if you think he is desperate for human connection and recognition from others, especially when younger (with a pretty wrapped view of other people and how friendships work). And is a surprisingly sentimental guy.

[m13trieswriting]

Nothing new - Alexia Putellas

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time posting something I have written. So if anyone has any suggestions/improvements, don't hold back. Just be nice, please! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it like I did writing it.

Summary: You and Alexia have broken up, again... a few weeks ago. You swore it was the last time but ended up getting intimate with her. This circle is nothing new.

There's no angst on this post, just pure smut with feelings.

Warnings: +18, Lesbian sex, cunnilingus, fingering, slight praise kink.

All this situation wasn't at all new for them. They've been in this exact situation a hundred times. Of course, y/n declared, stated and even swore that it would be the last time they broke up. She should have predicted that it wasn't.

All it took was a simple explanation of the events that had led to their break up, and they returned to it. To that messy, but inescapable circle that she couldn't erase from her mind.

She knew Alexia was the love of her life, from the moment she met those hazel eyes. She knew there wasn't going to be anyone else for her, ever.

Except they always ended up fighting and breaking up. Until they found themselves again. Not that y/n was thinking of that, she was far more interested on what was happening.

A heated kiss that felt like heaven. She must have had kissed her girl a thousand times, but it felt like fireworks every single fucking time.

Her lips, soft against hers, hypocritical given the circumstances. The kiss was everything but soft.

Y/n had tried to forget her. To let her go, like she insinuated she had to. Deep down she knew she couldn't. Her love was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, the kind poets spent ages writing about, the kind governors fought wars for. Alexia was her everything.

She consumed every fucking thought she had. Her essence had haunted her all those weeks when they were apart.

Having Alexia in her arms again, kissing her lips felt like a dream, one she did not wish to wake up from. Alexia was her dream. All she had ever wanted.

When they arrived to Alexia's bedroom, y/n cornered her girl against the door, their bodies pressing impossibly closer to each other.

It was nothing new for them. They fiercely kissed each other, trying to keep the moment locked in their memories.

Alexia's hands roamed all over y/n body, whilst hers firmly found their place on her lover's waist. Alexia's hands continued to move while their kiss became more heated, if possible.

Suddenly, y/n's lips became lower, kissing all over Alexia's neck, easily finding her weak spot. This wasn't new for them, they had done this a thousand times if not more. However, Alexia felt the same way that she had their first time, and honestly even more drenched.

Y/n was addicted to hearing Alexia's moans. It was her favourite sound in the fucking world.

-Y/n... please, I need you lower. No em facis esperar. - Alexia claimed, wanting to feel more of the younger woman.

-We have all night baby- familiar to the effect the nickname had on the catalan- and I plan to use every fucking minute of it love.

She took off the captain's shirt. Not giving a shit about where it was landing. Her wet lips explored the new area.

-Can I take it off?- always asking for permission before taking off her bra.

-Please...- Alexia was a mess of moans and whimpers.

She slowly took the piece of clothing off, maybe to savour the moment, maybe to tease Alexia even more.

Y/n loved Alexia's body, but her breasts were something else, she didn't waste any time attacking her tits. If Alexia had thought she was wet before, now with her lover's lips all over her most sensitive part she had a whole ocean between her legs.

Her clit was throbbing, not so patiently waiting for some friction anymore.

Another part of Alexia's body she was obsessed with was her abs. Fuck they were so perfect, she roamed her hand over them, while her mouth was still working on her captain's tits.

-Y/n, please, I fucking beg you- Alexia couldn't hold it any more, she craved more. Her hand now found its way to the older woman's hair, trying to guide her lower.

-I may be listening now baby- she teased.

-Please, I need you so much. Just do something.

-What do you need so much baby girl?- she was enjoying every second of it.

-I need you to fuck me so good I forget my name and the neighbours learn yours.

That's all she needed. She sank to her knees, removing the blonde's pants and underwear, not without a reassurance look, silently asking for consent. She admired her lover's intimacy.

Not wanting to make her wait more she licked her lips before attacking Alexia's clit. The first contact made the blonde shiver.

-Fuck, yes baby, don't stop.

Her girl's moans encouraged her to add a finger in her waiting hole. Feeling all the wetness once and for all. After all these years she couldn't quite believe the effect she had on the girl. It was fair to say she had the same effect on her.

After that, Alexia felt herself close to an orgasm she didn't know was building. She was a bit embarrassed because of it before she remembered it was you, whom she felt safe in every situation.

Perhaps it was the accumulated tension but she couldn't hold it much more. She kept moaning y/n's name, LOUD.

-Y/n, Baby I'm close, don't stop. - y/n's other hand moved higher reaching for one of her breasts. The captain grew even wetter if possible with that action. Y/n knew her body so well, that it was exactly what she needed to reach the climax.

-I've got you- was all y/n said while helping her ride her orgasm.

With the care you only have with someone you adore honestly, she picked up her lover's body, carrying her to what once was their bed.

Y/n dropped her carefully on the bed, before kissing every inch of her body. Despite what they had done only seconds ago, this was by far one of the most intimate moments she had ever felt.

Alexia has always felt loved by y/n, it was obvious the adoration the girl had for her. But in that moment she felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She had the hottest, most amazing and kind-hearted girl in the world adoring every part of her, all of her imperfections, insecurities.

She felt loved. Adored. Wanted.

Y/n kisses started to get higher until she reached her lover's lips. She softly kissed them.

-That was amazing, you are such an incredible woman.

Alexia's eyes started to get wet, just like her core was some minutes ago... She felt in heaven.

-Thanks for making me feel so loved. Wait, was?

Y/n gave her a knowing smirk.

-I know you are tired, I'm THAT good in bed. We can continue in the morning.

-Ugh, I hate that you know me so well, and we definitely will continue this in the morning.

Alexia took off y/n's clothes so they could cuddle naked. Y/n laid on the blonde's upper front. Her head where her tits heart was.

They didn't say they loved each other that night, it was understood what they both felt, but still, they needed time to process everything.

And their morning was, let's say... eventful.

[tw1l1te]

𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝔂 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮

Yandere! Linked Universe x Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, and I mean dark, suggestive, angst, more angst, kidnapping, mentions of death, dark religious themes

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You'd lost track of how many days, weeks, months years have passed since you'd been contained in this hell. You'd lost track of who you last talked to. You'd lost all sense of what happened, and where everything went wrong.

One of the clearest memories you have is how it happened.

How it started it already began long before.

Just hours after defeating the shadow, you were making plans to leave. To go back home after almost three years. You knew the subject was touchy and created a tense air to the group, but it was unavoidable now. It was time to go.

You look back at the portal, blue and gold wisps illuminating the surrounding area. Why wasn't anybody reacting to it, if at all?

If they pretended it didn't exist, you wouldn't leave them.

Enough was enough. You've waited too long for this, worked too hard. You didn't belong here.

Picking up your pack, you look at the rift once more. The pulsating sensation beckoning you closer.

Leave. Go home. Leave them. Go now, before it's too late. Now now nownownow gonowgonowGONOwLEAVEBEFOREITISTOOLATE-

A hand wraps around your wrist, hot fire against your ice cold bones.

"Stay. Please."

Twilight looks defeated. On the brink of utter collapse, eyes on the brink of tears.

"If only there was another way, Twilight. If only. I'm sorry, it's time."

"I love you, darlin'. I love you so much. Please don't leave m-us. Not again. I can't- won't. Not again."

You weren't her. No, you weren't Midna. You wouldn't leavEhiMheRE

He was on his knees, eyes never wavering off of yours. He was praying. Praying a mantra to your entity. His goddess. His divinity.

You feel another set of hands on your hips, melding perfectly against your form. Prophetical puzzle pieces locking together.

Legend was already crying, salty tears wettening your tunic. His hands were coated with blood. Not his.

"Y/n I- please, Mousey. Please please. Not again. I can't do this without you. Let us come with you. We'll do anything."

His hands. His hands were on your face, sticky blood tarnishing your perfect face. A face that held eras. His and his brothers', embedded in your very soul.

"I'm sorry- I can't. You know I'd bring you with me if I could, but it's time. I don't belong here. You know I don't, you said it yourself oh so long ago."

"That was- I was different. So so much has happened, so much."

The earth started to shake, ramping up in mere seconds.

The rock started to crack, larger and larger chasms forming, decreasing your chances of getting out of here.

It was now or never.

You look back at them, mouthing 'I'm sorry', and run.

Run and don't look back.

Run before you change your mind again.

Run before you miss your chance. Forever.

Your fingers graze the golden light, a sensation unlike you've ever felt before.

A force knocks you out cold, the last thing you see is that damned golden light.

~

You woke up almost a week later, eyes barely being able to open from how long they've been shut.

You remember the blood-curling scream you let out, vocal cords tearing at your anguish.

You remember Wild and Hyrule running in, holding you in place to not harm yourself even more.

You remember sobbing for hours that night, all of them staring at you.

You remember how nauseous and mortified you were when Time bathed you, combing through your locks and looming over you, cooing at you like you were some lost lamb.

You remember how disappointed Wars looked when he found you with your locks strewn around you on the floor, hoping that you wouldn't be pretty anymore in their eyes if you messed yourself up. It made you more stunning.

You remember sitting in the corner of the room, curling in on yourself while you hummed a lullaby, trying to ignore the looming eyes of the chosen hero in the other corner of the room.

They don't let you out past the fence, past it leads into the forest.

You stopped talking to any of them months ago, vocal cords mostly damaged from your screams.

You feel slightly safer with Wind around, knowing they would stay away if he was with you, trusting him to be their eyes for when they weren't home. This wasn't his fault, he was only a kid. Not knowing any better because his brothers told him this was right.

You promised him and yourself that'd you would both get out someday. You both knew he could come and go as he pleased, but he morally couldn't. You reminded him of Aryll, though that personality had long been lost.

You were in your bed, drawing in a notebook that Wind had brought you. It was blue, engraved with small violet flowers. You picked up drawing a few months ago, the distraction keeping you slightly sane. You didn't know what you were drawing, but it felt nostalgic. Safe. Home.

The door opens, Time walking into the room and pulling a chair from the far corner to sit in front of you.

You choose to ignore him, focusing very hard on the drawing at hand.

"You haven't talked much lately, Flower."

You wince at the petname, the syllables off his tongue making you disgusted. He has no right calling you that.

He keeps looking at you, elbows on his knees as he examines you, like some art on a wall. You can look, but you can't touch.

"I miss your voice, baby. I miss you saying my name."

You stop drawing on the paper, but still not looking at him. You refuse.

He crawls up to you, on his hands and knees, praying to his goddess for forgiveness of his sins

"My moonlight... please. Please say my name. That's all I will ever ask of you."

You look at him, noticing how tired and destroyed he looks.

Serves him right.

You close your notebook, lacing it back up with the leather cord. Setting it aside, you look back at him.

You vocal cords scream as you open your mouth, so in pain from the strain.

With gravely words and no emotion to give, you rasp

"Rot in hell."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[skyscrapergods]

Do the gods ever feel bad about stepping on mortals accidently?

They generally are able to avoid smashing mortals by stepping in the same place every day, with their tracks being distinct areas that you know to stay out of when you see a sister coming in the distance.

If a mortal is in the sacred print when the hoof comes down, they were either left there like a victim tied to train tracks, or they are stupid. Like trains, gods don't always notice when they've clipped someone who got too close to the hoof-fall for a thrill. They just keep going, and mortals have to clean up the mess.

So most of the time, if you are smart and stay out of their way, you can avoid being crushed. Gods are predictable, and when they need to deviate from their path, they move slowly and carefully to allow mortals to get out of the way.

The exception is when the gods are doing battle, a rare calamity with global devastation. Wild stomping, celestial bodies falling from the sky, and crushing oblivion.

God Battle is apocalyptic. Mortals who live through it pray every day for the memories to leave them, wishing they could believe the gods were always peaceful.

[mesapies]

I think it'd be interesting to see iroh/zuko interact with ppl that don't and will never forgive them. And not in a villian trying to take revenge on them type of way. Ppl don't have to forgive the guy that burned down their village, was the direct or indirect reason their loved one died, etc just because they changed.

Especially with iroh living in ba sing se after the war, the same place he tried to conquer 10yrs prior.

There was this small moment in the iroh/june team up comic that came out a little over a month ago but the writing makes it seem like the guy was totally wrong for his hatred of iroh. Now I don't like how it's worded but I like concept of ppl acknowledging that iroh wasn't always a good person and what he has done did and still does effect ppl in their daily lives.

I also wasn't a big fan of the writing here because it almost infantsizes iroh even tho he's a 60yr old man that was a general of a military for years.

Anyways, he lives in the same place where years ago he was the reason of death for ppls siblings, children, parents, significant others, friends. He walks past them everyday. He's probably seen memorials of the ppl who have died during those 600 days. Not even just the soldier but the citizens as well. It was 600 days long, over a year and a half of consent violence, ppl probably starved, especially those living in the outer area. They didn't know if the wall was going to finally crumble and that day was going to be their last. There's no way everybody is just gonna be ok with him living there after the war just because he's good now and sells good tea.

I think there should be ppl that don't like and will never forgive iroh and even zuko for the stuff they've done, no matter what they do to try to make up for it. And they shouldn't be villanized for not forgiving either. Like I said ppl don't have to forgive the guy that harmed them or the ppl they love physically, mentally, or emotionally just because they've changed for the better. Ppl can acknowledge they changed, but that doesn't take away the pain they've caused ppl. There gonna be ppl that forgive them no problem, ppl that don't forgive them right away but later come around, and ppl that won't ever forgive them. I just wish there would be more exploration on ppl that will never forgive them.

[ultrone]

୧ ‧₊˚ look after you ! 🛹

jackieshauna with skater!gf ✫ u hurt yourself while skating and ur gfs take care of you <33 angst n fluff, 2.9k wc

💥 ⏆   : 🩹 ﹢

the clock struck 3:45 pm, and the bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. collecting your physics book and backpack, you said goodbye to kevyn, your usual seatmate in your last block, and made your way to your locker. inside, you unloaded your heavy backpack and retrieved your skateboard, neatly stashed at the back.

each morning, shauna would give you and jackie a ride to school. however, for the journey back home, you often preferred to skate. while you'd rather ride with your girlfriends, they were tied up with soccer practice almost every day. nevertheless, it didn't bother you; after all, you spent most of your time with them anyway, and you genuinely enjoyed skating. the sensation of the breeze against your skin, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on the pavement, combined with your favorite music, felt very soothing and therapeutic.

once you stepped onto the school’s parking lot, you quickly placed your board on the ground and hopped onto it with your usual ease. the trip back home wasn't too long, just about 10 to 15 minutes on your skateboard. however, occasionally, you'd take a different route through the nearby park or empty parking areas, extending your ride for fun or to practice some tricks along the way.

honestly, you were relieved when your girlfriends had practice at the same time you skated. although they don’t mind, they've been a bit worried because you've been getting hurt quite often.

you've been skating for a while now, but recently, you've been putting extra effort into mastering some new tricks. your recent focus has been on different kickflip variations, and you've also started working on your grind and slides. while you've only ended up with some scratches and bruises so far, nothing too unusual, your girlfriends can be a bit nagging about it. jackie even suggested getting you a helmet, but you brushed it off, saying helmets are for "losers"—even shauna chuckled at the idea, so jackie let it go. nevertheless, they were genuinely concerned and insistent about you taking it easy. but of course, now that they had no eyes on you, you practiced and fell as much as you could without a care in the world. and if you were being honest, you enjoyed the extra attention and affection they showered you with when you were injured.

around eight minutes into your skating session, your stomach started growling. the lunch today was a burger with one of the toughest patties you've ever bitten into, along with some dry ass fries, so you tossed your tray and decided to skip lunch altogether. just as you were cringing at the memory of the unappetizing cafeteria food, your eyes lit up when you saw the glowing sign of the "pearl diner," renowned for serving the best milkshakes in wiskayok. without a second thought, you hopped off your skateboard and went in, ordering one to go.

now, with your refreshing and delicious drink in hand, you resumed your journey back home, taking a slight detour to the left, heading towards the park nearest to your house.

now that you had reached your destination, fortunately finding it empty, you cranked up your music all the way up and began taking longer strides, picking up speed. for the first few minutes, you warmed up with a few ollies, pushing yourself to go as fast as possible, and occasionally sipping from the milkshake in your hand. you were so accustomed to high speeds that you didn't bother stowing away your backpack and drink. the thought of falling seemed distant, as you were feeling particularly confident today.

once you felt confident enough, you rode towards the stairs that led to the parking lot. there was a bar dividing them in the middle, and you deemed it the perfect spot to practice your slides. the timing couldn't be better, as the park was completely empty, sparing you from any karens scolding you for supposedly ruining the bar's paint, which, according to them, had been "funded by the neighborhood's taxes," you mimicked mentally in a mock high-pitched voice as you rolled your eyes.

approaching the railing, you took one last stride, placing both feet on the board in an ollie position, ready to execute your trick. as you got close to it, you performed an ollie, and the middle of your board landed perfectly on the bar, allowing for a smooth slide. however, the impact was stronger than you anticipated, causing you to fall hard against it. by the time you were nearing the end of the slide, your skateboard broke in half, resulting in a harsh fall to the ground. in the process, your drink spilled, and your face slid against the pavement.

"hngh-" you grunted, feeling a loud ringing in your ears and too weak to stand up. you realized you must have hit your head pretty hard as your face felt numb. not only that, but your hands and knees burned, likely from scratches. lying flat on the ground, you pulled out your earbuds, finding the music too much to bear. you remained in that position for a couple of minutes until you started to feel the floor beneath your face becoming very wet. shit, now my face is going to be all sticky from the milkshake, you thought, assuming the wetness was from your spilled drink, too lightheaded to detect the metallic odour instead of sweetness.

it wasn’t until you heard two car doors shutting loudly, followed by a pair of hurried footsteps, that you snapped back to your senses.

the world swirled around you, a dizzying blend of pain and confusion. your skateboard lay in pieces beside you, and the taste of blood lingered on your lips. the metallic scent was unmistakable now—definitely not from a spilled milkshake. you groaned, trying to push yourself up, but your limbs felt like lead.

“what the hell happened here?” shauna’s voice cut through the haze. she knelt beside you, her soccer cleats digging into the gravel. her eyes widened as she took in the sight of your battered face. “jackie, get over here!”

jackie appeared at shauna’s side, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “whoa, what-”

“look at her!” shauna gestured at you, her anger palpable. “that damn skateboard-”

“shauna, focus,” jackie interrupted. “we need to help her.”

you blinked at them, their faces coming into focus. they both stared at you with concern etched on their faces, moving in sync as jackie dropped to her knees beside you as well.

“hey,” jackie said gently, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “can you hear us? do you know your name?”

you managed a weak nod. “y/n,” you whispered. “i… i think i hit my head.”

shauna’s hands were surprisingly gentle as she examined your face. “fuck, those scratches are deep. we need to get you to a hospital.”

“no hospitals,” you protested, wincing as jackie dabbed at your wounds with a tissue from her pocket. “i’ll be fine.”

shauna scoffed. “fine? you’re bleeding all over the place, y/n. we’re taking you to the er.”

“but my skateboard,” you mumbled, feeling absurdly attached to the broken pieces beside you.

jackie exchanged a glance with shauna. “we’ll worry about the skateboard later,” she said firmly. “right now, let’s focus on getting you patched up.”

and just like that, they hoisted you up, one on each side. their strength surprised you—they were soccer players, after all. they half-carried, half-dragged you toward the car. shauna took the driver's seat, placing your backpack on the passenger seat, while jackie sat in the back with you, letting your head rest on her legs.

you knew shauna was mad without needing to look at her. all the signs were there—the slight narrowing of her eyes, the clenched jaw, the sharp breaths. she was always the more reserved of the two, preferring her actions to speak for her rather than voicing her opinions. but there was a difference between the coldness she typically expressed toward things she disliked and the hot rage you felt radiating off her now. “you shouldn't have been such an idiot on the skateboard,” shauna snapped, her words practically boiling as they escaped.

her words stung, but you couldn't argue with her. you'd been asking for it, constantly pushing yourself to do crazier and riskier tricks for no real reason other than pure fun and self-satisfaction. despite repeated warnings from both jackie and shauna to take it easy, wear protective gear, and be cautious, you had dismissed their concerns as mere anxiety and overprotectiveness.

“i'm sorry. i won't do that again,” you mumbled, wincing as the bumpiness of the road jarred against your already aching body.

shauna narrowed her eyes even further, her rage still simmering. “you're damn right you won't,” she muttered.

jackie interjected with a more composed tone. “hey, take it easy on her,” she said, her fingers curled around your arm. you noticed that jackie's grip was comforting, not constraining. “she didn't mean to fall,” she added, her gaze fixed on shauna. shauna turned her attention to jackie, shifting her focus away from you. “don't defend her. she's an idiot.”

“maybe,” jackie responded, holding shauna's gaze steadily. “but right now, our priority should be making sure she's okay.” shauna didn't retreat from the argument, her lips forming a pout. “don't act like this is the first time she’s put herself in danger with that stupid skateboard.”

shauna's piercing stare returned to you, still cold and scathing. "i said i was sorry," you whispered, trying to sound braver than you currently felt. the throbbing pain in your face served as a reminder that picking this fight might not have been the wisest decision.

“i know,” shauna said, her voice cold. “but i'm sick of worrying about you and your stupid skateboard.”

the words stung more than the road rash on your palms. tears welled up in your eyes, and you hastily blinked them away. you didn't know why, but her criticism felt so much harsher than it should have. perhaps it was because you were still reeling from the fall, or maybe it was simply the adrenaline wearing off. regardless, her comment landed with the force of a slap, leaving you feeling hurt and ashamed, like a child scolded for an innocent mistake.

jackie watched as you attempted to wipe away the tears stinging your eyes. "hey," she said, her tone softening. "she doesn't really mean it," she whispered. "she's just worried about you." shauna rolled her eyes at jackie's comforting words, finding them overly optimistic. shauna was always direct—if she had an issue, she would tell you, no sugarcoating necessary. you remained silent, your lip trembling slightly.

shauna's gaze softened a bit as she noticed the tears in your eyes, but instead of apologizing or offering comfort, she simply frowned. "are you crying?"

jackie, on the other hand, reached out to wipe your tears with her thumb. "don't be so harsh," she said quietly toward shauna. "stop it."

the echoes of your girlfriends' arguments reached your ears as you drifted in and out of consciousness during the car ride to the hospital. their heated whispers gradually transformed into a soothing murmur; it was shauna's gentle voice that finally lulled you into slumber.

when you next opened your eyes, you found yourself in a hospital bed, shauna and jackie standing by your side. a bright bulb dangled above, and the walls were painted in a calming shade of blue. before you had a chance to ask any questions, jackie turned to shauna and whispered something in her ear.

shauna nodded in response to jackie's words, taking a deep breath before turning her attention back to you. her expression softened as she gazed down at you, the earlier anger replaced by a more caring demeanor. she reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, a gesture of tenderness and affection. "how are you feeling?" she asked, her voice gentle yet concerned.

as the fog in your mind began to clear, you let out a soft groan. "my face hurts," you whispered, feeling sluggish and disoriented. shauna nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting worry. "yeah, you hit your head pretty hard," she replied, maintaining her gentle tone.

"the doctor says you'll be fine, but they want you to stay in for the night just in case," jackie added, eliciting a disapproving grunt from you. "are you thirsty?" she asked, a soft and caring look in her eyes.

you nodded faintly in response to jackie's question, sensing the dryness in your throat and mouth. "can you get me some water?" you mumbled, too tired to do so yourself. "of course, i'll be right back," jackie said, giving your forehead a sweet kiss before leaving the room. shauna stayed by your side, her eyes focused on you as her fingers gently combed through your hair.

“i didn't mean what i said back there," she said softly, her eyes reflecting remorse. "i was too harsh, i know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. she paused for a moment, studying your face.

"it's okay," you mumbled, though you weren't entirely convinced of that statement. perhaps she was right—you had been a complete idiot on the skateboard. maybe it was time to cut back, if not quit for a while. "sorry for worrying you," you continued, feeling guilty for the stress you had caused them.

shauna let out a soft laugh, her face softening further. "you don’t need to apologize, idiot." she paused, contemplating if she should add anything else. "you did nothing wrong. it was just a dumb accident," she emphasized, her voice comforting and reassuring. "besides, i was just mad because i was worried about you," she added, giving you a gentle smile. "just promise me you'll take it easy from now on," she urged, her eyes unwavering as she waited for your response. you nodded, letting out a breath of relief at her understanding. "i promise," you agreed.

as she continued to gently comb through your hair, you released a soft sigh, feeling the stress beginning to dissipate. her touch was soothing and reassuring, a stark contrast to the rough encounter with the pavement moments earlier. “you know i love you, right?” she said, her thumb gently rubbing the side of your face that remained intact.

"i know," you muttered softly, meeting shauna's eyes as you tried to ignore the stinging sensation in your face. shauna's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and she gave you a gentle smile. “you’re an idiot for trying something like that, but i love you anyway.” you laughed softly at her comment, despite the dull ache still lingering in your bones. “i love you too,” you replied softly.

shauna smiled at your response, her eyes glowing with genuine affection as she looked at your face. just as she was about to reply, you were hit with a sudden jolt of pain as the cut on your scalp began to throb. you cringed slightly, trying to regain your composure. despite attempting to mask your discomfort, it wasn’t enough to hide your ache. shauna noticed, her expression shifting to one of concern. “do you need anything?” she asked, her gaze locked on yours.

“a kiss?” you suggested with a giddy smile.

despite the lingering pain in your face, you couldn't help but smirk at shauna's flustered reaction. “come here," you jokingly commanded, motioning for her to come closer. shauna let out a soft giggle, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink.

she stepped closer to your bed, lowering her face to match yours. “you’re such a dork,” she teased with a gentle grin, her warm breath brushing against your skin. with a tender touch, she brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your damp face. without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, her touch soft and caring, easing the ache. you savored the kiss, starting gently and gradually becoming more passionate as it continued. “mhm,” you murmured, feeling the pain melt away as your lips encountered hers.

shauna broke off the kiss, smiling widely. “are you sure you're feeling okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"yeah, i'm definitely feeling better," you replied playfully, your tone flirty yet lighthearted.

“i see my two lovebirds have made up,” jackie interrupted with a smile as she returned with a glass of water.

you gave jackie a cheeky smile as she placed the glass of water on the bedside table. “now drink up,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “yes, mom,” you mumbled playfully, leaning forward to take a sip of water. as the liquid soothed your parched throat, you felt some of the discomfort ease away. “feeling better?” jackie asked, leaning down to gently caress the side of your face that was unharmed.

“a little," you mumbled, offering her a smile, your voice still hoarse from the accident.

"good," jackie said with a soft smile, leaning in to give you a tender kiss on the lips, which you eagerly returned. you separated to let out a small yawn, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to you. both jackie and shauna chuckled softly, finding your tiredness endearing.

"i'm sleepy," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as another yawn escaped you. jackie and shauna exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles widening in amusement. "of course you are," shauna said gently, moving a little closer to intertwine her fingers with yours. "you should get some rest," she suggested, her tone soothing and reassuring.

"as punishment for getting us worried sick, you'll have to endure being sandwiched between us in this small hospital bed all night, because we're staying," jackie declared with a playfully stern expression, prompting you to scoot over as she settled into the bed beside you. shauna followed suit, sliding her arm under your head so that you could rest comfortably against her neck. jackie shifted to her side, wrapping her arm around your waist and planting a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

"aw, is that so?" you mumbled, a smile on your face as you found yourself snug between the two of them in the cramped hospital bed, your head comfortably cradled in shauna's arm. the closeness felt reassuring, surrounded by their warmth and affection.

"we're not going anywhere until you're all healed up," jackie declared, her tone playful yet sincere as she leaned in closer, pulling you even tighter. the gentle pressure from their bodies provided a comforting sense of warmth, their mere presence enough to ease the ache in your battered limbs.

"is this supposed to be a punishment? because it feels more like a reward to me," you mumbled, releasing another soft yawn.

your girlfriends just rolled their eyes and chuckled softly, relieved to see you back to your usual self. the three of you remained in that cozy position throughout the night, simply enjoying each other's company.

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Mo Art Studio

Location: Whitesand Bay

Details:

Mo Art Studio is a giant, white building located on an island in Whitesand Bay. Though its first floor is an art studio, it is usually closed to the public. The second floor serves as Rafayel's private art studio and residence.

Front Entrance:

The front entrance is enclosed with a wall and a metal gate. In front is a sign bearing the name of the studio, a small sculpture of a woman, and greenery.

Interestingly, minor details of the front entrance differ in the main story (left) and in the "Your Fragrance" memory (right). In the main story, the sign at the front gate has the studio name in a stylized font and a logo above it. Both the text and the logo are a pale, translucent material. But in the memory, there's no logo, the text is dark brown and in a different font, and the front gate has a little lamp on its right side.

Beyond the front gate, there's a pathway leading to the building that's bordered with even more greenery.

Interior:

While we haven't seen what the first floor/public art gallery looks like, the game has shown a lot of the second floor where Rafayel lives. So far, they've shown the living room and his bedroom.

Living room:

The living room is beautiful, but also prime evidence that Rafayel is a messy boy lol. There's a lot of different stuff wherever you look. No wonder Raf fell and hurt himself with all those plants, book piles, and art supplies all over the place lol. It even looks like he spilled some blue paint on the floor and just... left it there? 🤣

Note: They showed the living room in a panned shot, but it was in the evening. I stitched together a daylight shot of the left side and the evening shot of the right, so we'll have a broader glimpse.

On one side of the living room, we see a large painting area with a ladder and art supplies. On the other side is a brown sofa set with blue throw pilllows. Just past the couch is a bathtub for some reason? They've made mention of a bathroom, so I'm unsure wonder if Rafayel has a tub out here for Lemurian purposes? The room features tall windows framed with curtains, one of which doubles as the entrance to a balcony of some sort.

Bedroom:

Personally, I love his bedroom. It looks so dreamy and comfy! I would never get out of that bed for the rest of my life!

[acewritesfics]

All a Fantasy | Dean Winchester 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Hunter!FemReader 

Request: Yes from Wattpad.

Synopsis: Reader is under a Djinn's power. Her fantasy life involves one of her best friends. 

Warnings: None really. Mentions of supernatural beings. Maybe one swear word. 

Word Count: 2,205

Main Masterlist

Y/N is cooking breakfast when Dean walks into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and coffee having woken him up from his deep slumber. He gives her a sweet kiss good morning before grabbing himself a mug and filling it with coffee.  

Today both of them vowed to take the day off from their jobs. Their work schedules have been hectic over the last few weeks that they haven't had a day off together in three weeks. Dean, a mechanic working in his father's understaffed garage is picking up as many hours as he can without overworking himself and Y/N working as a journalist for the local newspaper, preferring writing over being on tv, found herself covering more than just her own column due to a nasty stomach bug going around the office. 

"How'd you sleep?" Y/N asks her husband of 6 years. They started dating when she was 19 and he was 23 but they've known each other since she was five when Bobby Singer and his wife adopted her. Bobby is best friends with Dean's father John. Her and Dean's younger brother, Sam became instant best friends being the same age. Growing up she did have a little crush on Dean but it faded over time. It wasn't until he visited her and Sam in university one weekend that things changed for the two childhood friends. Dean didn't see her as the annoying little girl who is best friends with his baby brother. Instead he saw her as a beautiful young woman who knows what she wants and where she wants to be in life. He fell in love with her hard and fast. They got married three years after they started dating. 

"So good. That massage worked amazingly. Best I've slept in weeks," he admits, sitting across from her at the kitchen island while she cooks the last few pieces of bacon. The night before she came home to a romantic dinner and a bubble bath. She repaid his romantic gesture with a back massage which led to something a lot more intimate. Dean isn't big on romance but it doesn't mean he doesn't try to make an effort to be romantic. He can be very romantic when he wants to be.  

"I'm glad it worked," she smiles placing the last two strips of bacon onto a plate of food and places it in front of him before grabbing her own plate and sitting next to him. 

As they eat they talk about what they should do for the day and agree to putting their phones on silent and going for a drive and seeing where the road will take them, making sure to be back in time for dinner with their parents. Tonight they plan to announce that they are expecting their first child. Sam, who was out of town for work, already knows about the pregnancy. Him and Jess, his wife, were there for lunch when Y/N got the call from her doctor confirming the pregnancy.  

Once they finished breakfast, Dean cleaned up the dishes while Y/N got ready for their road trip. She was excited and happy to be spending the day with Dean, no interruptions, relaxing as they take a ride in Baby, the beloved Chevy Impala John gifted him when he graduated high school. Many memories have been made in that car with many more to be made.  

When they were both ready, they lock up the house and get into the car, starting their drive out of town. 

They'd been driving around for an hour when Dean pulls into the car park of what looks like an abandoned play area. The grass is slightly overgrown like if hasn't been mowed in months, maybe even a year or two. There's a slight chill in the air as they get out of the car and move to sit on the hood. Dean notices her shiver a little and wraps an arm around her shoulders, bringing her in closer to him.  

It's quiet, far too quiet for her liking. The only sounds they hear is their own breathing. There are no sounds of birds chirping or any other sound you would hear while out in nature. Y/N finds it a little too eerie but feels perfectly safe in her husbands arms as he holds her close.  

Until she hears her name whispered quiet enough to only just be able to hear it. She lifts her head to look around as if she is going to find someone else there. But no one is. She shrugs it off thinking she might've been hearing things.  

"You wanna know the exact moment I knew I was in love with you?" Dean asks, bringing her attention back to him. She looks at him slightly confused. He has told her many times about that moment. He mentioned it in his wedding speech.  

"Have you been lying about it this whole time," she jokes looking up at him.  

"No," he smiles down at her and kisses her, sweetly. Both of them feeling like the luckiest people in the world. 

The kiss starts to heat up when Y/N abruptly pulls away from him, hearing her name amongst the wind but it's louder this time and sounds like it's coming from behind her. She can feel the confusion and concern in Dean's gaze as she whips around to see where the voice came from. 

"What's wrong?" He questions, his voice matching the look in his eyes.  

"You didn't hear that?" She asked. 

"Hear what?" Dean asks her. 

"I swear someone just called my name," she tells him facing him again, but instead of looking at him, she's still looking around the open field looking for the source of her name being called. "You aren't trying to pull some trick on me, right?" 

"I didn't hear anything and I swear I'm not pulling any tricks," he places his hands on her shoulders and pulls her closer trying to reassure her. He didn't know what was happening. "Maybe we should get out of here. It is a little creepy."  

She nods agreeing with him and moves to get back into the impala when her name is called once again but this time it sounds from right behind her and it sounds a lot like Dean's voice. She quickly turns on her heel again hoping to catch whoever is there.  

Shock fills her when she sees Dean but this Dean is different, aside from the different clothes he's wearing. She looks back to her Dean who doesn't seem shocked but angry and then moves her gaze back to the other Dean.  

"Y/N, you need to wake up. None of it is real," the new Dean pleads with her, scaring and confusing her even more. Her eyes fill with tears as she feels as though she is going to faint. She feels as if she's delusional.  

"No you don't," her husband Dean speaks up, glaring at the other Dean. "You can stay here, we can have our baby and live the life we both wish and dream of. The normal jobs, the kids, no monsters, not so much death and destruction. This is what you want. We can have it all, baby. Everything you wish for."  

Her confused and terrified gaze lands on her husband. "What are you talking about?" 

"It isn't real, Y/N." New Dean says again.  

"But it can be," her Dean smiles, the look in his eyes loving and reassuring. 

Something switches inside of her as if she's remembering a lot of forgotten memories. She sees Dean but it's the Dean who's trying to convince her none of this is real. It's them travelling with his father and his brother, hunting down things that are only written in lore books. She sees Bobby teaching her how to shoot a gun, how to draw a devils trap, and to speak Latin.  

"What's happening?" She cries out looking between the two Deans.  

"You need to wake up," Dean number two tells her. "It's killing you. The longer you stay there the more the Djinn is feeding off you." 

"Djinn?" She says her voice barely above a whisper as images flash in her mind of her entering an abandoned building alone and being captured by something.  

"You know you want to stay Y/N. This is after all what you dream about. This is what you want, what you crave. This is your happy ever after. Would you really give this up?" Dean number one questions. 

"This isn't real," she replies quietly to herself. "This isn't what I want because it's not real. It's not real." 

She closes her eyes hearing Dean call her name but she can't tell which one. Only a few seconds go by before her eyes shoot open and she's gasping for air.  

"Hey, hey, hey, breathe," Dean's voice sounds from above her. It's then she notices she's in the real Dean's arms, his eyes are flooded with fright, concern and relief.  

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, taking comfort in her closest friends arms. "Dean?" 

"I'm here, sweetheart," he continues to reassure her.  

"It wasn't real, none of it was real," she says through deep breaths, a part of her grieving for the life she could have if things had been different.  

"I know," he continues to hold her and kisses the top of her head.  

A loud screech came from another room making the both of them jump. Dean let's her go and stands up before helping her to stand. He takes her hand and they leave the room meeting Sam at the doorway, the younger of the brothers worried look turning to one of relief seeing his best friend alive with only a few bumps and bruises.  

"Let's get out of here," the younger man says. Dean and Y/N agrees, nodding their heads and follow Sam out of the building and to the impala.  

A few hours later, Y/N and the Winchesters are in a new town, hunkering down in a new hotel room. Sam is out getting food for them while Y/N and Dean are in the bathroom. She's sitting on the counter next to the sink, medical supplies and a bottle of Jack Daniels next to her. She winces as Dean presses a cotton ball dipped in alcohol to the small cut an inch or so above her eye, cleaning off the dried blood. 

"Sorry," Dean apologises moving the now stained red cotton ball away from her skin to check the cut. He was glad to see it was shallow enough to not need actual stitches. He puts a dressing over it to keep it clean and prevent it from getting infected before moving on to the bruise that was forming on her left cheek.  

"Are you okay?" He asks her noticing she's been awfully quiet since they left the warehouse where the Djinn kept its victims captive.  

"Yeah," she nods. "Just remind me to never get caught by a Djinn again. Those assholes really know how to fuck with your head." 

He nods his head in agreement, remembering his own encounter with a Djinn. "You want to talk about it?" 

She takes a deep breath in and out before shaking her head. "I don't think there's anything to talk about. Hunters don't get to have a life with a marriage, kids and an actual home. They don't get to live their lives oblivious to the monsters in the dark. They don't get normal jobs with normal hours and normal wages. So why bother talking about it?" 

"Hey," Dean said gently grasping her chin between his fingers making her look at him before wiping away her tears that she didn't realise were there. "If you really want all that, it's not too late to get out of this lifestyle." 

"But it is," she disagrees with him. "I was trained in this lifestyle just as much as you were. I don't know anything other than how we live. And even if I could give this up. I know what's out there and I can't just sit by and let good and innocent people get killed by all those monsters we hunt. If saving people from the unknown means I have to give up my fantasy of us getting married, having our own family and a stable home with stable jobs and all that other apple pie life stuff, then I'll give it all up time and time again."  

Dean looks at her with wide surprised eyes. "Your fantasy is us, you and I," his finger points at her before he points it at himself, "getting married and having a family?"  

Her eyes go equally as wide and surprised as his when she realises what she said. "I didn't mean us. I meant... I-" 

Dean's lips crashing to hers cuts off her rambling and any thought she was trying to come up with. It didn't take long for her to kiss back, her brain registering that this is actually happening.  

After what feels like minutes but was only seconds, Dean pulls away but keeps his face close to hers, his lips barely brushing her lips.  

"That's my fantasy too," he admits before kissing her again. 

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok, straight up? We know the Pilgrims and the Camel Ridge Trio fought each other. We know Wukong had "sent them to the Underworld" himself. But in Slow Boiled au there is no way in hell Wukong would have been allowed to participate since, while I'm not too sure of the timeline of events in the original book, I am fairly certain it was closer to the end of the Journey. Meaning Wukong had gone almost 16 years pregnant at that point.

And had probably lost Macaque by then.

So you can bet that when the Brotherhood members saw Wukong and started spitting insults and calling him a traitor, the Pilgrims are gonna be very pissed. Straight up, the reason Ao Lie wasn't depicted in the flashback wasn't because he wasn't there, it was because he had to be held back from literally murdering them for talking to Wukong like that.

Especially since by that point Wukong had probably, very much likely, told them about the Brotherhood and how he had surrendered and allowed himself to be captured explicitly to protect them so to have his sacrificed stomped into the dirt and spit upon by the very people he was trying to protect, the same people who PUT THE IDEA IF OVERTHROWING THE EMPEROR INTO WUKONG'S HEAD TO BEGIN WITH, well... let's just say they ain't gonna be nice.

In fact I know it likely didn't happen, but I would find it veeeery satisfying if Zu Baije punched Peng in the nose and broke his beak. Just... straight up knocking that overgrown pigeons teeth out because he was the worst offender and the first to actively start calling Wukong a traitor and claim he "mad this choice" when the guy literally did nothing to deserve that.

prev.

In the Slow Boiled AU; Wukong def lost Macaque around the same time as the Pilgrims wander into Lion Camel Ridge. He's distraught and doesn't want to lose anymore of his sworn brothers.

But the Brotherhood forces the other Pilgrims' hands with their words and actions.

Zhu Bajie: (*is spiteful and selfish towards Wukong for most of the Jttw*) The Brotherhood: (*is ungrateful towards their brother-in-arms' sacrifice and brand him a traitor*) Zhu Bajie: "HEY! THAT'S OUR LITTLE BIG BROTHER YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" (*pulls out rake*)

Each member of the Brotherhood is felled by a member of Wukong's new troupe. When the others were freed from the Scroll of Memory, the ones they targeted were personal.

[*The Brotherhood are being processed in the Underworld after they've been KO'd by the pilgrims*] King Yama: "Let'd get this out of the way since these three still have a trial to do for the coup they did some 500 years ago. Yellow Tusked Elephant; how did you pass?" Yellowtusk, in cuffs: "'Twas the Sand Monk that felled me. I had underestimated his strength and paid the price." King Yama: "And say you; Golden Winged Peng ?" Peng, in a bird cage: "That damned pig broke my *squawk!* jaw and hit me with a mud rake! I am disgusted by how undignified my end was!" King Yama: "And you Azure Lion - how were you defeated?" Azure Lion, in a divine cat cage: "I am embarrassed to say." Manjushri: "C'mon kitty, I saw what happened." Azure Lion: "...I was kicked in the head by the monk's horse when I went to strike Sun Wukong." YellowTusk & Peng: (*snickering laughter*)

Wukong is still horrified by how badly things went - but is comforted by the fact that his Pilgrim brothers were willing to leap to his defence. Master did not fight directly, but he told Ao Lie to take Wukong away from the area and placed a ward to protect the others. Almost as if Tripitaka was willing to die or kill to protect the student he had wronged...

Wukong still requires many a hug and a few hundred years to recover from all this.

Things go barely smoother in the Jttw Stone Egged AU since Macaque was still associated with the Brotherhood at the time, and him and Azure had a little kaiju battle over Wukong's choice.

[iknowwhereiare]

my sarentu oc! this took a bit to make but I'm glad how it came out + my ideas

more details and in-game pics under the cut!

Their name is Koto! Originally I wanted an 'a' name to match Aha'ri's, but I couldn't find one that I liked and by then Koto had already stuck.

They're intersex (that's how I interpret their gender, as canonically everyone in game uses they/them and gender neutral terms for them.) and they don't really mind what they wear as long as it's practical.

They're auDHD because I am, but I also like to think that's why they had lots of trouble performing well in TAP. They weren't really bad, but they didn't outshine anyone either. When Aha'ri passed, they did even worse and often had shutdowns and spaced out in class.

Bad memories at TAP has effected their life in major ways, such as confidence issues, hating guns and the taste of RDA rations, and their quiet and lonesome personality. They enjoy being around other Na'vi, of course, but often seek quiet places to rest and recharge as not to overwhelm/overstimulate themself.

They are close with their ikran, Telisi, and when they are apart Telisi is usually not far away. They love flying with her, feeding her, petting her, enjoying scenic views, and chasing and shooting down RDA helicopters with her. While Koto lends a ear to those who need it, Telisi gets all the words that they reserve from other people. Their relationship with Telisi grants them a kind of freedom they've never felt before.

Due to that quest for freedom, the plains are Koto's favorite area in the Western Frontier. They love the openness of the area and often ride on direhorseback just to be up close to the beauty before them. If Koto wasn't Sarentu, they would probably live with the Zeswa permanently.

Koto likes making friends, and their closest are So'lek, Nor, Etuwa, Ri'nela, Teylan, and Okul (not in any order), but other Na'vi they are close to are Kín, Nefika, Anufi, Minang and Nesim. Humans that they're close to is Alma (at the beginning of the story; their relationship is very rocky at the end), Priya, Anqa, and Jin-young. They have many people they consider friends but these are the people they're closest to.

They are a very efficient fighter and warrior, but they usually try to rely on stealth at first when encountering an enemy alone. The exception is when they fight alongside Telisi, which they are then very noticeable and very brutal.

Koto has a preference for Na'vi made armor and weapons and never really uses gun or human armor (unless it's something like a headband or foot cover or a mod) and will usually do anything to avoid using human items. They do see the value of human items (and they use SID alot) but just prefer Na'vi items due to bad memories.

This post is already long enough so I'll cut it here for now LOL. Maybe in the future I'll go more indepth with the relationships with their friends and enemies!

(Here's what they look like in-game as of right now! ^-^)

[metalomagnetic]

I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.