#verse: all bitter and no sweet.

[wornedgcs]

The unyielding Georgia heat was relentless, but as the sun set, it provided a welcome break from its harsh rays. The inability of a specific midfielder to execute a well-crafted set piece had intensified the evening's practice session. Despite feeling the frustration surging through her veins and the sting of irritated determination that had caused dark hues to glisten, Mac had bit her tongue and acted how any player would with an eye for the arm band.

Arguably, it was another's presence that had been the most challenging part of the training session. She'd read the woman's name on a list of players invited to the Georgia training camp, but it was one thing to read it and another to see her in the flesh. Nadine's comforting clutch at the bend of her arm had anchored her upon first glance, but it was a deeper desire for success that forced the long running fire within her to simmer beneath her skin.

Two seasons of her National career had been spent on the sidelines because of the reckless forward that would inevitably become her teammate. People could say what they wanted about the fiery forward, as could Mac, but no one could deny the talent that Diana Lennox possessed. It was the kind of skill that didn't come from overly expensive training camps or years of working hard. It was the kind written into one's genetic code.

Natural or not, talent could only carry a club so far. Winning on team level was a science. It was equal parts talent, chemistry, and communication. The first of the three was of no concern to the forward, but the other two? Well, the bitter coating that sat on her tongue for the entirety of the practice was a worrisome feat. How could she play with the woman who'd put a gap in her career? The same woman who'd traveled with the very club they were both aiming to make years later?

Mac shifted in the booth, desperate for the whole thing to swallow her whole as she temporarily tore her gaze away from the other. Had her statement been the most diplomatic? No. Did she give a shit? Also no.

Amusement washed over her features and spite spiked her veins. Maybe the coach would understand if things went sideways? The brunette took a beat, allowing the air from her lungs to ghost quietly through her nose. So, maybe her therapist wasn't entirely wrong about breathing exercises. "Look, I was just saying that you don't have to sit here just because Wu called you over. She has this thing about getting to know people better and I guess you were her lucky pick of the night."

It wasn't the fire she'd wanted to spew, but it was the higher road and the higher road sucked. "On second thought, I think Wu was onto something." She spotted lingering gazes, each probably wondering what would happen next. After all, the history between them was far from private. For a couple of back to back seasons, their teams had battled it out for the biggest win of all, but it wasn't that rivalry that caused the potential members of the squad to wait with a bated breath.

"Gives me a chance to offer a bit of advice." Mac eyed the other side of the booth with a grin, the offer seeming more like a silent order. "Unless that whole thing about your interest in my leadership abilities was bullshit?"

The day's labors weighed heavy in Diana's body, her limbs leaden with exhaustion. The national team's training camp was well underway, and every session saw her pushing the boundaries of her physical health as a means to prove herself to the coaching staff, but also to distract from the more mind-numbing aspects of it all.

Namely, the cliquey exclusiveness that seemed to develop every time she had been called up to the national team, no matter how many pleasantries were uttered by players through the media about the inclusivity of team dynamics. It all started here and now, during camp, when the veterans reunited and assessed the incoming talent for threats. Diana had been given her share of once-overs during her first appearance at the state-of-the-art facility in Georgia, but the looks and whispers had only fueled her. One of the trainers had advised her, in good faith, to bite her tongue and keep going.

God knows she had done her share of tongue-biting already, and they were only in their second week.

One of the midfielders — Mullins, she recalled, having lowly uttered blonde's surname like an insult — had struggled to grasp the mechanics of the set pieces the group had been practicing through the better part of their afternoon session. For such straight-forward strategies, the play collapsed nearly every single time the ball was kicked in. The head coach had called for laps in lieu of any further attempts, and in response, Diana had kicked her water bottle in frustration, sending it several feet along the sidelines — thankfully, out of notice of the head coach.

Slick with sweat and jaw sore from grinding her molars in anger, Diana had retired to the showers to rinse off. When she returned to the locker room, the conversation had turned to post-session plans, with a majority of the squad organizing a trip to a local diner that served breakfast fare around the clock. The lure of bacon and waffles, even burnt and mediocre, and company, overruled all instincts to return to the silence of her accomodations to decompress.

The diner, a greasy spoon-looking establishment that was no more than two stars on any epicurean aggregator, was nearly thirty minutes away. Riding passenger-side in Butler's rental car, with Lewis and Williams tucked in the narrow backseat, Diana scrolled through a handful of reviews before her attention drifted to the car's discussion about the team's outlook. Lewis, ever the gossip, couldn't hide her curiosity when she brought up how blatant it was that Eriksson was vying for the captain's armband.

"Lennox has gotta have something to say about that," Williams chuckled, earning a snort from Butler.

"Yeah," Lewis needled, "what do you think, Di?"

"I don't think about MacKenzie Eriksson," Diana replied evenly with a shrug, earning a chorus of whoops and laughter from the car, and turned her attention back to her phone, to the diner menu.

At the diner, the players dispersed. Diana ducked into the restroom to wash her hands and fix her hair. When she returned to the bustling restaurant, everyone had more or less settled into seats. She scanned the room, searching for her usual seatmates, but was distracted by the call of her name from a booth nearby. Wu, a national team veteran and league Defender of the Year for several years running, had beckoned her over to where she was sitting with Eriksson.

Speak of the devil, Diana thought, her gaze sliding over the brunette that had been the subject of conversation on the ride over to the raven-haired defender.

In a maneuver that felt almost orchestrated, Wu waited until she was seated before quickly excusing herself, leaving Diana face-to-face with the last person she wanted to spend time with. And the feeling was seemingly mutual, with Eriksson offering her an assurance that the Texan didn't need to sit with her. Diana didn't have to turn her head and place Butler in the diner to know that the cackle that erupted belonged to the goalkeeper, timed eerily well with Eriksson's derisive remark about her taking someone out in practice.

"Isn't leading by example one of the core principles of being a captain?" Diana asked, eyebrows furrowed in feigned confusion. "I would think that, for someone chasing the armband, you'd be a little less condescending and a little more focused on setting an example. Or is having your head up your morally-superior ass just part of the leadership we can expect from you?"

[louismygf]

2022 louie wrapped 🫂

favorite song on walls - fearless

favorite song on fitf - lucky again or att or waoyf or ooms or or or

favorite fitf single - out of my system

favorite music video - bigger than me

most played song on spotify by louis - kill my mind (lifetime), bigger than me (6 months), all this time (4 weeks)

louis life lesson - always have hope. trust your gut & follow your heart (also, when following your heart, dont be afraid to make mistakes). be brave.

favorite louis lyric - time can always heal you, if you let it make its way into your bones (fitf)... otb lyrics still at my top though! specifically it's a solo song and it's only for the brave (walls)

favorite louis outfit - SOOO many. love me to death and longer hoodie, pleasure is pain cardigan, green dork sweater, purple hydrogen tee, pittsburgh 😇, F1 fila sweater, 28op black turtleneck & this..., but i feel like giving attention to this outfit :)

favorite live performance - THE FIRST PERFORMANCE OF BIGGER THAN ME, LIVE FROM MILAN, WAS INSANE ACTUALLY!!!!!!!!!!!

live favorite tour show - girl. all three nights of ltwt22: mexico city (n1 got me locked out of twitter, n2- just full on fun and complete chaos and n3......... perfection)

tagged by @throughmycigarette 🫶🏽

tagging @daffodilsfortomorrow @faithinlouisfuture @louis-in-red @letthisbeyourgreatest @polaroidplanets @28-quetzal @milf-louis @fruitylouis @sheisbeautyweareworldass @firstsummer

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

These were the Silt Verses.

(closeups/design notes/rambling under the cut, because it took me over a month to make this so I'm going to be a little self-indulgent.)

spoilers for the whole podcast ahead!

Our protagonists! Notes:

Some of these came out more accurate to how I see them than others. Hayward in particular looks much less grimy and haggard than I imagine him. Carpenter, on the other hand, is perfect in my eyes. Shrue is (subconsciously) very much inspired by the wonderful @unbloodiedmartyr's rendition of them (thanks Sacha, your art goes insanely hard!)

Hayward and Paige face away, a nod to their final parting. Carpenter and Faulkner face one another, in deference to their final reunion.

Val and Shrue are both shown at the moment of their deaths.

Paige, the only character confirmed to survive the immediate finale, is the only one with closed eyes.

I'm a blond Faulkner truther. Sorry.

Someone left some really really insane tags on a Valpost I made like a month ago about how Val can alter her appearance as she pleases, but the Last Word can never convince her not to see the actual aftermath of her torture when she looks in the mirror, and it sent me a little crazy, so I was trying to capture that failing self-deceit here. She's meant to look absurdly young, but where the flames overlay her face, you can see the prayer marks and lacerations on her skin.

I had this out on my desk for days and every time a family member dropped by I had to frantically hide the fact I was drawing 'politician gets shot in the head' fanart. RIP.

These are the marks of the Many Below! They look Not Great enlarged, but hey ho. I wanted them to look hidden and incidental, separated in each corner as they are:

'Begin with a balbis on its side. Within the two spaces, a circle marked by a single dot.' Drawn in the silt of the White Gull River.

'Beneath this, a pair of concentric circles. Within the annulus, an ovoid with a slit - a staring eye.' Scrawled across the pug postcard Cross uses to write his idea to scapegoat Shrue.

'Under that, a lemniscate over a heptagram[...]' Made up of the ribbon that binds Mercer and Gage's rifles.

'[...]and three parallel lines beneath.' Faulkner's staff, broken into three pieces.

Interstitial illustrations. There are four sets of these, which (roughly) correspond to more stand-alone episodes & fan favourites. This is my favourite, for my beloved Chapter 36: All Lovers Part As Dust. I had a blast distilling recurring motifs of the episode into one little illustration, and I'm really proud of the result; I think it captures the match of sweet and bitter that the episode in question inspires. The clock points to the eleventh hour.

These are pretty self-explanatory: I couldn't pass up a chance to draw the inciting miracle of the series, and it made sense to pair it with the image of Paige and Hayward sailing downriver at the end of Season 2, an image which has always haunted me.

The hare and the owl are from Chapter 26, a symbol of the Wound Tree's emergence. The lobster and fish are intended as a nod to Faulkner and Rane, a character who I love but couldn't include more overtly. Lobsters are seen as a symbol of devotion and fidelity because, apocryphally, they mate for life, and yet the lobster here is without its pair. The fish was intended to be a remora, which swims beside sharks. (Yes, I'm aware remora are tropical sea-dwelling fish, and humbly beg any marine biologists reading this not to kill me on the spot).

The Killing And Violence Siblings!

These object illustrations were deliberately positioned as parallels and specifically reference Season 2, marking the point of the poem that is made up of that series' titles (an attention to the series chronology that roughly coheres throughout the piece. Very roughly.)

Mercer and Gage's rifles are twisted round with a red ribbon, which bleeds into the White Gull, binding them together and reflecting how they're rarely seen apart. The ribbon's also a deliberate parallel to the banner wrapping Carpenter and Faulkner's hands elsewhere in the art.

Carpenter's axe and Faulkner's sororicidal mirror shard are depicted alongside fish hooks, as though they're separated for much of the season, the Parish draws them back together in the end. Also an echo of Paige's line, 'Love is just a meat hook for you to catch me on.'

There's only blood on one of the rifles, in a nod to Mercer and Gage's uneven dynamic.

Bookend landscapes. The pages were intended to reference the Silt Verses as an in-story document, and represent the themes of truth, myth and record throughout.

The illumination!

It was always going to be a radio-- not a nod specifically to Sid Wright, but really to the use of broadcast, music and sound throughout the show. TSV's sound design is truly one of the things I admire most about it.

The radio is meant to be on Carpenter and Faulkner's dashboard, as they drive along the river in the very first episode, hence its positioning at the start of the poem.

I conceived this as the centre of the piece, and drew the rest around it.

aaaand that was a lot. I didn't cover everything, and I recommend clicking on the final piece to get full quality and see how the details interact with one another-- but if you've read through all these meanderings, thank you, sibling. I started this two weeks after the finale, and managed a full relisten while drawing. It's been a labour of love, and I now hate watercolours more than I have words for.

[kaciidubs]

Cameras and Sweatpants

❣ Summary: Photoshoots, the gift that keeps on giving, and you welcomed it with open arms - and mouth. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.5k ❣ Warnings: Smut, degradation/name calling [slut], slight public sex ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: 230526 Chris [pictured], Chan is referred to as Chris and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty/Dirty Girl, Slut, mention of Jisung, lightly edited, this was written almost a year ago while I was sleep deprived and horny for this specific version of Chris ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“We have 30 minutes,” Chris whispered against the shell of your ear, his hand resting against the small of your back. 

You smirked, pace quickening ever so slightly as you walked past staff members and stylists alike - a glint of mischief shining through your lust fogged eyes. “I’ll be done in 15.”

Attending photoshoots with the boys was a rare occurrence, usually only happening when your oh-so-loving boyfriend figured a ‘little vacation’ was in order - and this was one of those times.

Even if you weren't well versed with Dispatch as a whole, you were more than aware of the speculation of idols’ private lives and, more present, promotional photoshoots and interviews.

Especially promotional photoshoots that had your boyfriend in the most relaxed yet revealing outfit you’d laid your eyes on; from the white, sleeveless shirt showing off well sculpted biceps that never failed to draw attention, to the baby blue sweatpants tied securely around his hips with holes that gave peeks into what you had the pleasure of seeing daily.

All of this, paired with the borderline bedroom eyes he was giving the camera, culminated into you tugging him off the couch the minute the director gave the call for a break to set up for the next room.

The second the changing room’s door shut and the lock clicked into place, you wasted no time in sinking to your knees in front of him - hardwood floors be damned. Your mouth watered at the prominent bulge beginning to tent the blue fabric; running your hand along the outline and earning a stifled grunt in return. 

“Baby, I’d rather not stain these pants,” Chris gritted out, trying to keep his anticipation at bay as you continued palming him, “we still have the second half to shoot.” 

You opened your mouth for a rebuttal, a tease of some sort, but the looming reminder of how much time you had made it close just as fast. 

Heeding his request, your hands slid up to the waistband of his sweats before tugging them past the swell of his ass and down the expanse of his thighs, just enough to expose his boxer-briefs.

“If we were home, this would be so much easier.” Your lips pulled into a playful pout, fingertips dipping past the branded waistband before pulling them down to meet the same fate as his sweats. “I wouldn’t have to worry about this many layers.”

He scoffed, leaning his back against the cool wooden door, “If you were patient you wouldn’t have this problem, now would you?” Cocking his head to the side, he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, “But you’re just so needy for my dick, aren’t you, baby?”

A fresh heat washed over you from his words and you had to physically fight back the whine bubbling in the back of your throat - if he was already talking like this, then you knew you weren't the only needy one here.

Spitting into your hand, you wrapped it around his length and gave a few experimental pumps, relishing in the sharp hiss of air he took above you with each pass of your fist, before leaning forward to lick a line from the base of his dick to the tip.

His lips parted with a breathless, “Fuck…”, his head falling back against the door with a low thud as he watched you with lidded eyes.

You looked up at him, the smallest hints of a smirk on your lips before parting them to take the head into your mouth, lapping languidly at the bitter-sweet precum leaking from the slit. A soft moan hummed from your throat as you sunk further, eagerly welcoming the familiar weight of him on your tongue.

 It was always an effort to take him down your throat, long as he was thick, but you continued pressing on - eyelids fluttering shut as you focused on breathing and fighting your gag reflex.

“S-Shit, baby,” Chris gasped, his hand resting on the top of your head, “can’t- ah, can’t go two hours without having your mouth stuffed, yeah?”

Your left hand gripped his thigh, either as a muted response or moral support when you finally, finally, pressed your nose against the finely trimmed patch of pubes that decorated his pelvis. Swallowing around him, earning a delicious whimper that made your pussy flutter, you tapped his thigh twice with a soft hum.

He tensed, his brain short circuiting while his heart skipped a beat so hard he felt it in his throat, “Really? Y-You don’t- fuck, you really want me to…?”

Another two taps against his thigh, and you looked up at him as best as you could from your knelt position, feeling spit start to overflow past the corners of your lips.

“Fuck- You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

His hand shifted to the back of your head, locking you in place as he drew his hips back, a shiver running down his spine until half of his cock remained in your mouth before thrusting forward, sending himself down your throat once again.

You squeezed your eyes shut, one hand holding onto his half while the other balled into a fist on your thigh, helping you focus on keeping your gags at bay with practiced breaths.

Chris kept a few more slow, manageable thrusts before turning up the pace; his cock leaving your mouth a little more each time before sliding its way back into your throat, ragged pants tumbling from his lips as he fucked your mouth.

It was dizzying, the way your muscles constricted around his girth while your plump lips were slicked with bubbling saliva - it wasn’t anywhere close to how your cunt felt, but it was still bringing him to his end just the same. It also didn’t help that soft moans were interspersed between your muted gags; the thought of you getting off on him using your mouth like a fleshlight making his grip tighten and his balls swell.

“T-Taking me so well,” he gritted, breaking out into a small sweat, “so needy for me you can’t even suck me off by yourself - need me to help you, huh? Need me to- fuck- to use this throat of yours like the slut you are.”

Your nails dug into his calf and he chuckled, a short, husky sound that had your pussy clenching around nothing, your panties sticking like a self-imposed punishment.

“My little slut, yeah? All mine?” Sucking in a sharp breath, his hips stuttered, “A-All mine to use - daddy’s pretty, dirty girl.”

Blinking away the tears blurring your vision, you angled your head up just enough to gaze at him through your eyelashes, and the sight you were met with had you rocking your hips in the open air - desperation taking over your rational thoughts in hopes of an odd rotation to get something to grind against your aching cunt.

Pupils blown, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead,the glow of sweat shining down the curve of his neck, pretty pink lips parted and shimmering from the gloss the makeup artists coated them in, and brows furrowed with a focus you’d seen time and time again - he looked delectable.

“S-Shit- I’m close, baby,” panting, Chris looked down at you with worry flashing in his eyes, “Wh- Mm- Where do you want it?”

Answering his question as best you could, you squeezed his calf once before pressing your tongue to the underside of his dick, running it against a vein that never failed to make his head spin.

The grip on your head tightened as he nodded frantically, “Y-Yeah, yeah, okay - t-take it all, princess, swallow every drop j-just f’me, yeah?” A shiver ran down his spine as his rhythm began to falter, breathless whimpers falling from his lips, “‘M coming- oh fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna come-”

His dick twitched, throbbing against your tongue, and with a handful of thrusts the tip pressed against the soft flesh of the back of your throat before a rush of cum filled your mouth.

Your throat tightened with each swallow you took, gag reflex working double time with the lack of air reaching your lungs until the last of his release settled onto your tongue.

As his hold on you relaxed, you slowly pulled yourself off of his length with a lewd slurp, taking whatever final remnants remained before swallowing - almost choking on the deep breath that immediately followed suit as your lungs gratefully welcomed the unhindered rush of air.

“I’m-” Chris huffed out a breath, fully leaning against the door to save him from falling to his knees, “I’m sorry, baby, are you okay? Did I go too hard?”

“Honestly?” Clearing the rasp from your voice, you laughed lightly, “If I passed out, it would’ve been worth it.”

“Oh my god, you absolute menace!”

Eyes narrowing with mirth, you smirked, “Menace? I thought I was daddy’s little slut?”

The blush tinting his ears and neck deepened, but before he could respond a series of knocks rapped against the door, followed by Jisung’s sheepish voice.

“Uh, if you guys are done in there, can I grab my phone?”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[brandileigh2003]

Older wolfstar fic recs: (older in age that is)

let me know what I missed and self recs are welcome (also as always check tags for each one to protect yourself)

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

**And I know older is relative term bc most of these wolfstar are in their 30s I do believe. But. They have more life experience than in Hogwarts or uni.

--orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond: divorced parents of teddy with one bed at his graduation

-Honey If I'm Not by @brigid-faye divergent post war where remus left, jily lived, and wolfstar only reconnects years later by chance. (Also has a Sirius pov)

---used my best colours for your portrait by @littleoldrachel lie low at Lupin's with flashbacks exploring remus' life

-Looking for Moony by Writer_INFJ_2w1: meet and fall in love birthday party

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo lesbian wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has several others where they're older and lots of beautiful fics

--Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account: texting fic

--the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual divorced wolfstar get back together, raising teddy

-Second Generation by MsAlexWP single parents, getting back together. The sequel is so perfect too! It's a Nice Day for a Wolfstar Wedding

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe (second in series is mcd but this one is open ending)

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment raising teddy, get back together

--Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

--Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series

--dear your holiness by mollymarymarie

--The Postwar Chronicles by @sliebman10 post canon series

-Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss explores effects of lycanthropy

--ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 remus headed home, trying to move on from divorce

--Prettiest Star Verse by Raging_queer

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbar divorced wolfstar

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and @tracingpatternswrites rivals to lovers

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account raising teddy strangers to lovers

--The Road Not Taken by @mollymarymarie

-extra credit by MsAlexWP rivals to lovers

-Baby On Board by aqua_myosotis

-Of Memories, Bitter and Sweet by MsAlexWP memory loss

**luci's recs

-my love, take care of yourself by littleoldrachel

-How to romance a guy with (terrible) poetry by BayleyWinchester

-Teddy Plays Matchmaker by grow_as_we_go

-The Front Step Surprise by R33sesPieces

**Recs from others** (I haven't read all these yet but wanted to include)

--Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp (be aware there is age gap)

--The Lab by de_sire again an age gap

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent post canon raising harry

-The Patchwork of Us by TracingPatterns

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row

-The Phoenix Agency by LupinsChocolatePraline

-The Fall by EuripidesTrousers

-Pages of You by wolfpants this is drarry main but apparently background wolfstar is really good

-Just Like Heaven by the_prettiest_w0lf_star: mechanic Sirius and librarian Remus

-soloorganaas

-impishtubist

***Self rec***

--Memories of You: mcd exploring memory loss

--Through the Years: Sirius thinks about the past and how handsome his husband is while holding their granddaughter.

--DN(R): Lie low at Lupin's era where they discuss decisions Remus made in the lost years.

**also- the wolfstar librarian is always a great resource make sure to give some likes on posts: 30yo and Up part 2 Bring Black Back Back from the Veil Lie Low at Lupin’s Post Azkaban Grimmauld Place

--Feel free to check my other rec lists, as well as the rest of my fics

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

So I sat down the other day and went through the crane wives albums and some other songs to assign to Ninjago characters and I've finally sat down and decided to write the post out. The content are going to be under cut because this post will certainly be too long. I'm going to go album by album here starting with Coyote Stories and ending Here I Am: From The Listening Room.

(any and all "(X)" are simply links to the songs <3)

okay, here we go!

Coyote Stories

Keep You Safe: in some ways, I like to interpret part of this song as relating to Nya's perfectionism, especially within Possession. The bridge especially and lines "What if the steps I take turn out to be mistakes? How can someone like me learn to say "come what may"?" (X)

Allies or Enemies: this is Jay and Cole to me from Rebooted to ToE. Specifically, from Cole's perspective. The song has a lot of regret and bitterness in it that I just think fits so well. The first verse and second verse ("you owe me ears from dropping eaves"), and the bridge are all so clear to me. The bridge, "what happens now? do we have another go (oh) do we bow out and take our separate roads, I'll admit I've had my doubts (oh) but I want to be let in not out (oh) I want to be let in now out", reads to me like Cole's sudden giving in and desperation in their match in ToE. (X)

Hard Sell: this one's a little loser but it reminds me of Lloyd struggles to keep himself strong and straight with everything that gets thrown at him, all the stress. To be The Green Ninja (X).

Little Soldiers: Young Garmadon and Wu, I think. It's their doomed brotherhood, the way they loved each other clearly as impulsive youth ("on the broken backs of all the words we spared, like little soldiers in the trenches, it was a march we made through ruin and despair but we held hands all the while") but ultimately Wu couldn't keep his brother. The bridge reminds me of the war. (X)

Metaphor: Harumi, obviously. There's really no debate, it's her fake mask as the Jade Princess, it's her relationship to Lloyd even. "I've gotten good at leaning on metaphors, I've gotten good at leaning on someone else's page, I cut my teeth on second hand sentiments, you can't trust a single thing I say" -> princess era. It's a sweetly bitter song, chalk full of implications of trauma. The line "but I always dig up bones in your sympathy, I can't trust a single thing you say" is relevant to her relationship with Lloyd, I feel. (X)

Of Everlong: This is a lovely and very soulful song, short and sweet. It's reminiscent of Pixane, to me, specifically from Pixal's perspective. There's a certain connectiveness in being in someone's head. "and if my lover will not hear it take my voice and take my spirit leave weakened and dig my hole only my lover not I can keep my soul" vs "I do not know if there is anything after this life for beings such as you or I, but if there is, I will find you there. Goodbye my Zane." (X)

New Discovery: Fairly simple and not to deep, but this is a Misako song. Adventurer and explorer, and all (X).

The Moon Will Sing: I want to preface two things, A) this interpretation is very much looser and a little less connected t the full original meaning of the song and a little more based in reworking it to fit the characters and B) Wu haters will be stabbed by my mighty and large sword. This is Morro and Wu, on a level. "I shine only with the light you gave me", the light here i the green ninja prophecy,something Morro latched onto to prove his wroth, who is, who is to Wu. The entire song as an air of bitter grief I think fit's Morro and Wu's story. Morro could've grown up and been something more than a half baked angry ghost chasing a dream from 40 years ago, but he wasn't, "I could've been anyone, anyone." (X) (X) (<- an extra link to the demo of the song!! I find it rather lovely)

(Extra note on The Moon Will Sing, I could also see this being a song about Zane/The Ice Emperor and Vex.)

Rockslide: this is about to be very unsurprising, I associate this with Cole! There's obviously the title but generally I think the energy of the song is very Cole-like, in the fun sense. There's also the lines about feeling the "quakin honey I feel it deep" which is rather self explanatory. (X)

The Hand That Feeds: I'm shaky on this one simply because I don't remember or know her character very well, but Akita. Has a lot of mention of wolves and is a very angry song against systemic oppression (though, in the song it's anti-capitalism lol). (X)

Sleeping Giants: another Cole song, mostly based on the presence of mountains, and the 'calling' aspect of the song. I also tend to associate songs with strong drums like in this with Cole (like Drumming Song by Florence and the machine) (X).

Never Love An Anchor: I've seen this song go around actually, mostly with Misako. Which, I agree with! However, I consider it a dual song with her and Garmadon. Specifically, their season one selves. It's Misako leaving Lloyd at that boarding school, it's Garmadon being so absent even though he so clearly loves his son (and despite his evilness, he doesn't seem to wish Lloyd to follow in his footsteps). The first verse really resonates with me as being Misako, clumsy hands and trying her best, and all. The last verse however, is Garmadon ("I am selfish I am broken I am cruel") and so is the line "With this heart of mine that's guilty not remorseful." If you haven't heard this song, I truly, truly recommend it, it's gut wrenching imo. (X)

Okay! We've reached the end of Coyote Stories. That's 11/12 songs out of the albums, the best ratio we have on this listing I believe. Moving onto Foxlore now!

Foxlore:

Nothing At All: when I was looking at this song, trying to decide who to apply it to, I ended up getting kind of emotional. It's Zane, post Ice Emperor specifically. In his self-dehumanization. I'm just going to list out the lyrics that made me incredibly sad lol. "Happy is the man who wants for nothing happy is the lair happiness itself is desire", "heart broken men long to feel nothing to free themselves from strife handle pain, pain doesn't define a man it sure lends an hand getting measured in the sweeter parts of life". (X)

Down The River: Lloyd, post Garmadon revival and Crystallized. All his bitter feeling towards his father, and the angry abandonment issues. The first verse ("I've been wishig that you'd prove me wrong, that you'd come clean and rue the damage done, restore my faith in you, but you've got no reaosn to") and fifth ("Now, tell me, when you start again where will you house your skeletons? Or will they stay behind? Your settlement in kind?") especially. (X)

Can't Go Back: Zane, post Ice Emperor, again. It's that guilt man, I don't really have more to explain but know it makes me Sad. (X)

Turn Out The Lights: Jay, this is mostly about an anxiety head-canon lol, considering the song is about a racing mind. (X)

Ribs: this song is so Nya it hurts. It pretty strongly connects to her arc over the seasons about self independence, identity, and misogyny. It's her finding her place as who she is, and taking back things as her own ("It is mine, it is mine). Verse three I like to connect to her element being of Wojira's and how that is so symbolic of her place in the team (and why she reflect Morro so well in a lot of ways but I won't get into that), "time has changed the metaphor, now, dust is not the orgin of bone, little girl don't let them sell you any armor all your ribs are still your own". There's also the main chorus, which, god I got sad when I looked at it from the angle of Seabound. "The dark doesn't frighten me I chose to close my eyes, it is mine, it is mine, the night doesn't frighten me I chose to let it thrive, it is mine, it is mine." (X)

Not The Ghost: perhaps a little literal but, Cole in his Day Of The Departed era. Though, it connects to his feelings at the time more than his literal ghost-hood. It pretty strongly captures the depression, low self esteem, and growing urgency (around the Latter half of the song). You could also read some of the lyrics as paralleling the events of DOTD itself. (X)

And that's it for Foxlore, that is...6/10 I think, so not the worst either. Fun fact, this next section is my favorite album as a whole :)!

The Fool In Her Wedding Gown:

Icarus: now who else would this be about if not the doomed siblings of the series? Of course it's Wu and Garmadon. I think of this pretty strongly as paralleling their 'adventures' as young children, and then the war. "Oh my brother, oh my brother, oh my brother, who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here", yeah. The entire energy of the song has that weird sad, yet hopeful regret Wu seems to carry around with him in regards to Garmadon, it's a very loving song. (X)

Fangs: Nya, the entire song carries the desperate anger she has, the longing for independence and strength. It's bitter too, in a way that reminds me of her from Rebooted to Skybound. "I am not your highness, a damsel left helpless by fright, I am a lioness, fierce as I walk through the night", "a man will never know his bride"...and well, she was a bride once, wasn't she? (X)

That's it for TFIHWG actually, I know, sad sad ratio but I am also not suprised because a lot of the songs on this album are rather specific.

Safe Ship, Harbored:

New Colors: this one is really simple, Lloyd, and only because it reminds me about how consistently stressed he is lol. (X)

The Crooked, The Cradle: This is a Morro song, to me. The idea of were you doomed from the start (the cradle), or was this purely because of the choices you made? The line "can anyone hear me? The crooked are smiling, they know me the best" strongly reminds me of him and the Preeminent. (X)

(Additionally, this came to me as i was writing this section but I could also see this song being Garmadon coded.)

Caleb Trask: Oni Lloyd! The entire song is about the concept of having 'bad in your blood' and how you simply have to embrace it. That you cannot let it chain you, that love will bring you back. Reminds me of him. (X)

I Ain't Done: if you look at this from a purely conceptual level and energy wise, this song is very Morro. It's got his vengeful, jealous and vicious return from the dead to wreck havoc vibes lol, the lyrics in a literaly sense, however, do not fit. (X)

We're nearing the end now! kind of! 4/12 ratio.

Here I Am: Live From The Listening Room:

High Horse: Jaya, actually. From Rebooted to Skybound, from Nya's pov. Mostly, I connect it to that weird, unhealthy desperation Jay had for Nya and Nya's desire to be free of it, her own self. "You're a sweet heart, you're a curse, you're a passing grade on a low, low bar, you've got your eyes open, I know your worth, but I've got so many things in my hungry, hungry heart", sums it up pretty well. (X)

Here I Am: This one's Cole, but it's a bit of a mixture on why. First up, it's again DOTD era Cole with all his being forgotten angst and anxiety. Secondly, and maybe more painfully, it really reminds me of his and Lou's relationship early on. Neglected child core, and all that ("I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves, with no more roots to tie me down, it's just a different kind of lonely"). The last verse is strongly reminiscent of his pure stubbornness, too. (X)

Queen Of Nothing: Solidly Harumi, a lot on vibes and mood. It's got a dark, sort of unsatisfied sound to it. The chorus screams her , "Isn't this what you wanted? Time sure feels like it's running out, just finish what you started, queen of nothing wearing such a heavy crown." (X)

Sowing Seeds: this one's a bit more general, it reminds me of Possession, the season. It's also a very moody song, having a tired, haunted sort of energy. It also fits nicely into the theme of consequences in Possession. The first verse ("still as a lake long after the wind is gone, in the face of a thief mashing ground to mud, still as a street long after the work is done, as he gnashes his teeth, as he cuts it up, cuts it up") heavily reminds me of Morro. (X)

Hollow Moon: fairly simple, Hollow Moon reminds me of Cole's fear on DOTD. It's got that spooky and paranoid sort of energy. (X)

The Wolf: this both a Harumi and Morro, bearing that bitter, self destructive energy. (X)

Now, that concludes all the albums thus far, and I know I sad we'd leave off on HIA:LFTLR, however, I am a lair. There's a couple songs that aren't on albums that's be a shame not to mention.

Margaret: this is Misako, in her loss of her husband, and her trails to find a way to fix things. "She's breaking her knuckles on truths that keep her awake, and she's tired but her jaw is set, she won't lose any more of the heart she still has left, so she says a prayer pulls the covers near and waits, Margaret won't sleep tonight." Lovely song. (X)

Scars: this is a newly released song! I believe it connects back to Never Love An Anchor, and as such, it fits Lloyd very well. Specifically in relation to Garmadon, post revival. It so so fits all that anger in him at his dad ("cause I was born with a whole in my heart, yeah, we were fucked from the start, tell me it's inevitable I'd end up with scars from falling down, down, we were always meant to fall apart"). (X) (X) (<- the second is a live audio recording that is personally my favorite!)

Okay, no we're done! Anyways, if you read all the way down here I hope any of this made sense. This is a little bit of a love letter to The Crane Wives and Ninjago, I spent hours doing this lol. If you haven't heard any or some of these songs, please do listen to them!! Every song mentioned should have an accompanying link. Anyways, time to end this stupidly long post, please share if you have any thoughts or connect songs differently!!!!!!!!

[loveinhawkins]

When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.

It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.

And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.

A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.

He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.

But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.

He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.

He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.

Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.

Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.

But the chatter isn’t helping.

He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.

He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.

His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.

Something’s cracking deep inside him.

He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.

Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.

He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.

He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.

Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.

“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.

He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.

Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.

“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.

Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.

Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.

“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”

“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”

But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.

The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.

Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.

“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”

It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”

He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.

Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.

Steve doesn’t mention it.

“I can get you some food,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”

He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.

Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”

Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.

No. That’s not…

He wants… he wants…

“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”

He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—

The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.

He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.

“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.

Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.

“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.

“Thanks,” he manages.

“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”

Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.

And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.

Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.

Steve crouches by the side of the boat.

“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.

“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Eddie, it’s—”

Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”

He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.

Just a hair’s breadth away from…

It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.

“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.

His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.

Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.

Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…

The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”

A snap.

Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.

Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”

Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.

Something warm.

It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…

He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.

No.

He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.

“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”

“I know,” Steve says.

His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.

And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.

A hand-warmer.

He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.

Eddie breathes in again. Out.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs.

Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.

He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.

“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”

Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…

“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.

Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.

Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.

Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.

“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”

“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”

Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”

It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.

Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.

He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…

It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.

Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…

It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.

And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.

Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.

He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”

“We know,” came an already distant chorus.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And if anyone hears about this—”

“We’re dead!”

A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.

And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.

Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.

It was…

Eddie wakes up warm.

The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…

He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…

It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.

He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.

But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.

His hands are warm.

And that’s something.

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ yandere sorcerer  x male witch reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . pretty thing !! 🍒 :  sorcerer ˖ yandere character﹙ verse 9948e alessio. ﹚

a mad sorcerer attacks your village and takes a morbid interest in you | cw: dark content

his presence was like a breeze. as he stepped into your coven. the ease of wind -

that would soon roar into a fierce storm. carrying the screams of your fellow spellcasters. blood rain soaking the ground. and at the eye of it all - stood his dark figure.

unbothered. the height of rigidness. like a flurry of hail ready to cast down on any that find themselves foolish enough to challenge him.

they hadn’t given him what he came for. how is this his fault?

and still. you stumble forward. the blood of your friends fresh in your eyes and a fire in your heart.

on your way to being the best of the coven - you were. well, suppose that title is now yours. when surrounded by your fallen brethren.

you call upon the earth. the sparks of magic flow from your heart and through your veins. zapping at the tips of your fingers. a warning. a challenge. a spark to the storm that rages at the center.

you lunge. he catches.

“pathetic.”

even his voice sounds like the dry wind. straight from the darkest of catacombs. your attacks are met with but a raise of his hand. a twist of his wrist. viridian flies and strains your limbs. planting them to the ground.

death surely awaits you. yet your vision still catches him in front of you. peering those deep - glowing eyes into your own.

curious.

as though the blood of your coven is not on his hands. as though he had not slaughtered them all. why are you any different?

“kill me, you demon.”

tears drip down your face. you cry with a raspy voice. a metallic taste spilling from your lungs and bittering your tongue.

he raises a hand. that frightful viridian swirling from the wrist and blackened veins. straight to his fingertips. you squeeze your eyes tightly and brace yourself. call for your ancestors to tell them - you will be there soon.

you feel it. the static. the dread. the sheer power that reverberates off of this mad sorcerer.

and yet the sweet release never comes. the strike through your heart to draw your magic. rip it from your soul.

instead. a caress.

cold. soft. like snow kissing your cheek. your eyes open to behold the hand now trailing along your face. the dark shadow cast over his face now looming over your kneeling form as he leans over. those green, glowing eyes half-lidded.

“such beauty. . . for a mere witch.”

the words are poison on his tongue. yet they sound sweet to your ears. your stomach churns.

long fingers curl beneath your jaw. tighten. shove your head back. he breathes deep - shaky - and suddenly it is no longer the dread of death that you fear.

but the dread of his cold lips on yours and his dark whisper amongst the thunder.

“pretty thing. . . what a waste to shed your blood.”

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of the Fallen Part 1

The thrilling sequel to Icarus and Around the World is finally here!

This universe has decided though, completely without prompting to do a little Christmas story set in this verse. So.... yeah!

Enjoy!

Summary: On the ten anniversary of The Fallen's eponymous debut album, the band decides to do an unmasking. This is the interview with Variety journalist Karla Lopez. SEQUEL TO ICARUS AND AROUND THE WORLD READ THEM FIRST!!!

~

Exclusive Interview with The Fallen Behind the Veil by Variety reporter Karla Lopez.

Karla Lopez: I am deeply honored to be chosen to do this, you have no idea.

Astraeus chuckles: Oh I think we have an idea, yeah.

KL: Why did you decide to do a reveal now? You have all been pretty vocal about not wanting to break persona.

They all look around at each other like they trying to decide who’s going to answer that. Finally Abbadon speaks.

Abbadon: Back when we were first asked about it, Asmodeus said that maybe if we were still here ten years on. This marks the 10th anniversary of our first album, so I guess it just felt right.

KL: Fair enough. There were talks about this being live so you could answer questions from a chat on air. But all of you nixed that. Can you tell me why?

Asmodeus laughs: We all wanted to see the reaction on our friends and family’s faces when they find out who we are.

KL: You have fans among your friends and family?

Abbadon: Oh yeah. It’s funny having to pretend to hate metal so much I won’t go to our concerts.

Astraeus: You have to film yours, man. I have to see his reaction.

Abbadon laughs: Don’t worry, my partner has it on lock.

KL: Someone we’ve been told we can’t talk about until after the reveal.

They all snicker

Azrael: That’s because he’s here and them being a couple is also being revealed today, too.

KL: Awww, that’s so sweet. So this is how the reveal is going to work: each of you will take turns in the hot seat I point to a large red leather armchair off to the side a little and you will take off your mask, tell us your real name and a bit about yourself.

They all nod

KL: So you guys picked the order. Youngest to oldest, right? Again they nod So who’s up first?

Azrael stands up and moves over to the hot seat and sits down. He takes a deep breath and removes his mask. He pushes back his hood. Behind the mask is an unassuming man with blue eyes and wavy blond hair that goes to his shoulders. He’s conventionally handsome but he’s got a bump on the side of his nose where it’s likely been broken.

Azrael: Hi, I’m Spencer Peters, I’m 32 years old with a wife and twin little girls aged four. No she didn’t know I was a drummer for a metal band only that I travel a lot for business. He waves Hi, honey! Shout out to Sweet Pea and Pumpkin. I was an EMT before I met the rest of the band. I had been playing drums since I was ten, but I never thought it would become my job.

KL: Why did you chose the name Azrael?

Azrael: Because I wanted to pick something I wasn’t. As an EMT my job was to save lives. I figured that if I chose the angel of death no one would guess it was me. He huffs a bitter laugh And it fucking worked.

KL: No one in your life even wondered?

He shrugs: If they did, they didn’t tell me. As far as I know, no one in my life put together that my business trips line up with our touring dates.

KL: Do you feel angry about that?

He looks over the other guys and then back at the camera: Sometimes.

Abbadon ducks his head as Azrael (Spencer) stands up and walks back over to the group.

KL: Do you want to talk about that anger?

Abbadon lifts his head: My partner figured it out. Before we got together. It’s partly why we got together. But as far as any of us are aware no one else in our lives have figured it. Not spouses, parents, siblings, close friends. So yeah sometimes it hurts that they don’t know us well enough to guess.

KL: That’s got be hard. How does no one else know? Aren’t there dozens of people milling about after shows?

Asmodeus: Certain people have to know, our agent and our manager. Our chief security; they all sign NDAs but we’re also very quiet about it. We don’t get ready in their dressing rooms unless we have to. And if we do, we have armed guards in front of the door.

Abbadon waves: Shout out to Murray Bauman, though. He guessed I was the frontman for one of the masked bands. Just didn’t care which one. So he’s not on the list of people who knew I was Abbadon, because he didn’t. Until now. He wags his eyebrows.

Azrael: Plus once we’re ourselves again, everyone thinks we’re roadies or PAs or whatever role we can slip into that won’t draw suspicion.

I laugh: I guess I can see how they might make that mistake. Who’s next?

Asmodeus stands up and walks over to the hot seat and sits down. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Abbadon walks over and puts his arm around his shoulder and they whisper for a couple of moments. Abbadon stands up and moves just enough out of view of the camera but close enough that Asmodeus can still see him.

Abbadon nods and Asmodeus takes off his mask and pushes back his hood. The man’s coal dark eyes are apparently natural as he doesn’t remove any contacts. His hair is as dark as his eyes. He has a square jaw and a sweet smile. Abbadon smiles back encouragingly.

Asmodeus: he waves awkwardly at the camera My name is Simon Olsen. I’m also 32, but older then Spence by two months. I’m the biggest nerd of the group. I play D&D, I’m big sci-fi nerd, huge Trekkie. I was trying to write a sci-fi novel when I met the other guys. It’s not very good. I’m a better guitar player than I am a writer. I started playing when I was sixteen to get girls.

KL: Has it worked?

He laughs: As Simon? No. As Asmodeus, girls are always throwing themselves at me. But I never felt that was genuine so I’ve never indulged. I guess I’m a 32 year old virgin.

He winces and looks up at Abbadon. Whatever he sees there soothes him and he clears his throat.

Asmodeus: Like Spence, I picked Asmodeus because he was the antithesis of me. Someone to drive the girls wild. Cool, confident. I like being him more than me sometimes.

Abbadon holds out his hand just out of frame but Asmodeus stands up and takes it and they both walk back to the group.

KL: Is that something you all feel? That you like being your alter egos over yourselves?

They all glance around at each other.

Azrael (SP): Sometimes. We’re all what people in the 80s called preps. I’m not sure what they would call us now, probably nerds. Polos, chinos, Henleys. Suburban dads, I guess. So our alter egos, our personas if you will aren’t like that. They are so much cooler than us so it’s easier to be them.

KL: Has it been hard keeping the two lives separate?

Astraeus: More than you’ll ever guess. It’s why after a tour we don’t immediately go home we learn how to be regular guys again.

KL: I laugh How does that work?

Abbadon: Military grade specialists.

I laugh again but they don’t laugh with me: Wait, you’re serious?

They nod

Asmodeus (SO): They have these people that teach incoming soldiers how to turn off being soldiers and be people again. They’re kinda like that. Not exactly but close enough. Our head of security heads this up. He’s really fucking good.

Abbadon: I was the reason for this, by the way. My persona is so unlike my real life that there was actual talk about me being cursed. Our manager helped me that one time, because she knew me before I went on tour, but it was clear it wasn’t perfect. So she found a couple of people that would be willing to help us get in and out of character before and after our tours. It’s been a real life saver for sure.

Astraeus: And believe me, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But it’s really helped us out.

KL: Who’s next?

Astraeus stands up and makes his way over to the hot seat and curls up on it like a large house cat. It’s a jarring affect to see the large bassist tuck his legs under him like a teenage girl about share secrets with her bestie.

He takes of the mask and drops the hood. He runs his fingers through a riot of tight red curls. His face is freckled and his has a gap-toothed, goofy smile.

Astraeus: Hey guys! My name is Shane Kendrick, I’m 33 and me and Abbadon have the same birthday, year and everything. I’d call us twinsies, but he already had a soul twin in the form of our manager, and you so don’t want to get into the middle of that!

Abbadon, their manager, and Abbadon’s partner all burst out laughing. Astraeus winks at Abbadon.

I am starting to see a pattern and it’s making me a little upset if I’m honest.

Astraeus: I tease, I tease. They’re super cute. I chose the name Astraeus because there aren’t that many night gods, lots of goddesses, but not whole of gods. But I am a huge mythology nerd. In fact I helped everyone come up with their names. I chose Astraeus because he’s not a god of night, he’s the titan of night and that sounded way more metal than just a god.

I was actually studying to become a history teacher for the middle school grade when I met the rest of the band.

KL: Where did you guys meet?

Astraeus (SK): Abbadon was working at a little cafe where the three of us would come in for coffee. Me and Simon would spend hours there. Him doing his writing and me doing my homework. Spence would come in after his shift and just sit in a corner to decompress.

KL: How did you guys become friends?

They all laugh

Astraeus (SK): Abbadon was playing Corroded Coffin on their speakers. First cafe I’d ever been to where they didn’t play some new age shit.

There is a choked off laugh from Abbadon’s partner and Abbadon ducks his head. I’m sure if the mask was off, we’d see him blush.

KL: You bonded over Corroded Coffin?

Astraeus (SK): Yeah, I told him I had a crush on the drummer and he told me that he had gone to high school with them.

My jaw drops: Wait? Really?

Abbadon nods: All Hawkins High alums. Almost all different years though, too. Eddie was ahead of me, Jeff and Brian were below me one year and Gareth was two years below me.

KL: Wow!

Astraeus gets up and swaps with Abbadon. They give each other five as they pass as if they they are tagging the one out and the other in.

~

Part 2

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina @eyehartart

[animc]

how the haikyuu characters fall out of love — part 2

semi eita falls out of love like an unfinished song, melodies that once hummed through him, now broken, half-formed verses left hanging in the air, notes that never find their resolve. each chord, once full of meaning, now drifts aimlessly, as if searching for a place to land, but never does. the rhythm stumbles, then stops, a harmony that slips out of reach, fading into silence before it ever truly ends. what remains is the echo of something incomplete, a tune that no longer moves him, just stray sounds, half-remembered, no longer played but never entirely forgotten.

ushijima wakatoshi falls out of love like coffee in the morning, once warm and bold, filling the air with promise. but as time stretches, the heat fades, leaving only a cup half-sipped, a bitterness that lingers on his lips. what was a ritual now feels like a routine, the steam that rose in comforting swirls now dissipates unnoticed, like conversations that drift into silence, words growing cold as time goes on.

tendou satori falls out of love like chocolate melting on a tray, slow and inevitable, the warmth of yesterday dissolving into a quiet, bittersweet pool. what was solid becomes soft, then shapeless—familiar yet distant, a memory of sweetness that lingers but no longer holds. each passing day, he watches the edges blur, feeling it slip, first subtly, then all at once, like the fading taste of something once savored, now just a trace on his tongue, a comfort disappearing into time.

oikawa tooru falls out of love like a bird finally leaving its nest. being with you was comfortable, like a sigh of relief when reaching home. you're etched onto every part of his body and woven into every chapter of his story, but in the warmth of your embrace, he knows there's something missing. he finds a house but not a home. and so he spreads his wings, and off he goes, to challenge the unknown... all alone.

iwaizumi hajime falls out of love like a sparkler lit up during a festival—brilliant and dazzling for a fleeting moment, casting radiant light and joy, only to fizzle out as the night deepens. the sparks that once ignited his heart with hope and warmth now dissolve into the cold, empty darkness, leaving a trail of shimmering memories that quickly fade. he stands alone, watching the last embers flicker and die, realizing with a heavy heart that sometimes the most beautiful moments are those we can't hold on to, and letting go is the only way to honor the brief, breathtaking beauty they once had.

hinata shoyo falls out of love like an impulsive tattoo that was done during vacation—exciting in the moment, but soon an indelible mark of a fleeting whim. the allure fades, replaced by a permanent reminder of a decision made in haste. what was a bold declaration now seems out of place, a memento of something that no longer fits. he sees your smile, now more like the ink on his skin—something to move past rather than cherish.

[rubra-wav]

Hello! If you’re still taking requests for Hazbin Hotel x Reader, how about a one where a new housekeeper captures Husk’s attention and he tries to impress her.

Another separate prompt suggestion can be Husk & the reader wake up in bed together & Husk playfully teases her, I.e, neck kisses, soft tickles, telling her how cute she is, etc.

Husk x housekeeper reader hcs/drabble-ish

A/N Lemon Boy by Cavetown came on as I was writing this, and now I can't stop thinking about it with Husk haha.

Cw: SFW, Fem!reader, romantic

- When Husk first sees the new housekeeper, he's immediately struck by you, surprising himself greatly.

- He inwardly cringes, chiding himself and pushes it to the back of his mind where it sat annoyingly restless.

- Someone like him could never have the type of thing he felt momentarily. Not with his deal weighing heavy on him at least.

- But as you stand there, in much a similar outfit as Niffty with your hands fidgeting with your skirt nervously as Charlie introduces you, he cannot deny how taken he truly is deep down.

- After that, it just gets even worse.

- He notices everything in rapt detail that you do as you around the hotel, and it freaks him out how whipped he is.

- The way your smile lights up when he talks to you is an absolute killer for him.

- He makes a point to be as bitter as possible to scare people away from him and rule out who's actually good verses who's not.

- And when even through all of that, you still smile freely, genuinely with such brightness every time you see him? Has his 'nonexistent' ability to love hard to cover for.

- When it's clear to Husk that his feelings aren't going away, and they are just getting more and more deep, he switches up his approach despite the more pessimistic part of him telling him not to and begins to try to impress you in various ways.

- Showing off tricks he knows how to do with cards, his talent in playing practically any kind of games to do with gambling, stepping in to lift things that are too heavy for you, making you drinks, cooking you stuff.

- Actually smiling at you and talking to you without the usual level of his bitter attitude.

- Other members notice this and tease him about it, but he doesn't let them to get in the way of him trying to woo you.

- When you respond well to it and seem genuinely interested in what he's doing, he thinks of trying to actually approach you to try officially ask you out.

- That's easier said than done, however.

- Every single goddamn member of the hotel seems hellbent on interrupting him every time he finally gets the courage to go try asking.

- Cough. Alastor mostly. Cough.

- After a long line of attempts at asking you out being interrupted, he essentially rage quits at it.

- Storms off as Alastor shows up randomly out of absolutely nowhere in front of his bar, interrupting him mid question as he's just about to try asking for the 7th time that day.

- "God, just fucking forget it. Nevermind." He grumbles out, sending a scathing glare to Alastor who just seems to know what Husk is trying to do and is grinning ecstatically as he sabotaged it yet again.

- After barging out to the hotel balcony, holding his head in his hands as he grits his teeth furiously, he's surprised when he hears your footfalls come to stop behind him.

- He turns to look at you in some confusion as he observes the slightly unsure, nervous look on your face.

- Husk's eyes widen as you ask him the exact same question he was trying to ask, and he feels his heart squeeze embarrassingly warmly at your words.

- Walks up to slowly you and places his hand on your forearm gently as he looks into your eyes and says yes, breathless with how relieved he is that he finally can move to get closer to you.

- You, the sweet maid who'd captivated him from day one.

[mcmcntomorii-later]

@xamassed

❛ you’re such a tease. ❜ ( beel )

Mukuro hadn't realized she was being one, she thought she was being a bit cheeky and licking some frosting that had gotten on her hand。 When he made that comment, Mukuro couldn't stop the coy smile from spreading on her lips。

「Yeah~?」 Mukuro asks, the coy smile still prominent on her lips, 「I could tease you a little more, if you'd like~」 Mukuro was fully prepared to " accidentally " drop some of the white icing on her chest。

【 subtle smut prompts 】 ♡ 【 accepting 】

[idontknowmyownmind]

Soukoku Fanfics Reccomendation

PREVIOUS

COMPLETED

[Series] Phantoms by Mxxnlit

[Series] In All Its Branches by writingfromtheshadows

illuminated happiness by setosdarkness

You Must Be This Tall To Ride by Lazchan

A Night To Remember by NoraNoooooo

The broken beauties. by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey)

Hair Tie by Lichtstrahl

Everything Comes Back To You by TheGreatCatsby

all my own by halfbloom (diphylleias)

castles out of couches by halfbloom (diphylleias)

The scent of flowers is sweet, but the scent of you is sweeter by LunaSolstice

Four masterplans to win Chuuya’s heart by holdinglucy

25 little domesticities by holdinglucy

What's Your Name? by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Everything or Nothing by Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Drunken Storytelling in Yokohama! by StormDew2

The Little Things by Badwolf36

what Chuuya would have said by orphan_account

Tales from Yokohama by AnonLearnsToWrite

O Children (give my gun away when it's loaded) by iskendaris

Always Yours by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Touch by borntoshine

And His Lips Were Chanel Red by the_most_happy

these days, you're fine by wondernoise

I found love (where it wasn't supposed to be) by giorassol

My Bisexual Ass Likes You so Why Not, lol by Vitya_Viktorie

Call of the Depth by Shadow_Arashi

set alight, we're afire love by kiroiimye

your honeyed words from a silver tongue (or am i the only one worthy of your honesty?) by scripted_suicide

His Lover by loukass

skip and kiss by triptychism

sunset by dynashou

Lycanthropic Blues by Bemused_Writer

A monochrome painting by Fa113nM00n

Leia by likeshining

Saudade by hybridempress

Back on Your Feet by hybridempress

keep your windows open by Maristella

My Beloved Doll by orphan_account

Flirting With Disaster by Leonawriter

His Prized Experiment by fauxtales

Just Look by Anonymous

TearDrop by alchemy_omi

kataware doki by TheGreatCatsby

Wings of Corruption by Katical

When will you learn that your actions have consequences? by pinkjester

Even The Corrupted Can Love by Taintedazure

Bitter/Sweet by Badwolf36

In My Arms, You're Safe by EcchiSenpai

Five Times They Didn't Need Words and One Time They Did by StrangerThings7

Denouement by sunnyfleur

Promise Me by NightSama

until the pair of us are strangers (let's call it convenience) by jazzieshoes

Throwbacks and other things you don’t want to remember by tia_dreamer

Do No Harm by TheGreatCatsby

Hell Is Empty by Leonawriter

#################

Break It To Me Slowly by Leonawriter

It Was Snow That Made My Fingertips Cold by Leonawriter

And The Answer Is Yes by Leonawriter

Only Human by TheGreatCatsby

Touch Starved by Badwolf36

when you wish upon a star by ackerlynx

Turn Back the Clock by weepingwillows

carpe diem by diamondsinthesky (stella_caerulea)

caught in between by universalblips

Puppy Love by writingfromtheshadows

Killer Couple by outromri

The Ship Is Sailing by orphan_account

A Public Service Announcement by AnonLearnsToWrite

Dating comes with at least a 70% chance of grievous bodily harm by AnonLearnsToWrite

fire and calamity by Anonymous

Footsteps on the Ceiling by Insomnia_Productions

Dazai’s 10 Steps Guide to a Successful Marriage by Yellow_Canna

Switched by Yellow_Canna

Beneath the Dress (♂) by Yellow_Canna

ON-GOING

[Series] All hail our lord and savior Chuuya Nakahara by BlowingYourMind

[Series] Tracing Through Violets and Echoes by Kuranoa

[Series] Sheep verse by Shinkirou

[Series] Loveless AU by Shinkirou

[x Black Butler] One Hell of A Partner by Lawli_Pawp

[x The Avengers] The Avengers, a detective and a mobster by sednaxover12

Once Upon A Time by BluePastelLucas (VeniVediPerivi)

I'll Set Myself on Fire (Just to Keep You Warm) by Anonymous

Just Another Day in Yokohama City by ayyartee

ataraxis by lurochu

He Works Hard for the Money by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Sweetest Devotion by orphan_account, Wellthathappened (Cataclysmic_Calamity)

Chasing Fireflies [HIATUS] by borntoshine

don't forget where you belong by Maristella

i will follow you into the dark by Maristella

darling, take me home by kiroiimye

long live by kiroiimye

The (In)humanity of Nakahara by earlofgreytea

[x MHA] Blue Bamboo: Japanese Tales of Fantasy by RiKuEersa

Unintentionally Erased by Chuuuuuuuuya

Honeybee by orphan_account

Stop All the Clocks by chuuyapedia, osamuchuu

Mama Chuuya by uzai_sagi

House of Tarot by uzai_sagi

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Famous/Non-Famous fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

Tired Tired Sea || @mediawhorefics || 113.3k Famous/Non Famous, Lighthouse Keeper Louis, Famous Singer Harry, Slow Burn, Past Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Face Your Fears || @sadaveniren || 92.2k Omegaverse, Baker Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Misunderstandings, KidFic, Mpreg, Slowburn, Angst

In A Twinkling || @jacaranda-bloom || 89.2k Christmas Fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Self-Growth

begging for you to take my hand (wreck my plans, that's my man) || hemakeshimstrongx || 70.1k Famous/Non Famous, Rockstar Louis, Photographer Harry, Touring, Established

Turning Page || purpledaisy || 67.9k ** Famous/Non Famous, Ex-Footballer Louis, Actor Harry, Summer

I was yours (I wish you were mine) || @harruandlou || 56.2k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Dyslexia, Librarian Harry, Rock Star Louis, Summer

Hooked with Just One Taste || @dinosaursmate || 48.5k Cam boy Louis, Famous Harry, Sex Toys

And Now I Date Cate's Brother || @sunflouwerhabit || 46.6k Famous/Non Famous (ish), Pop Punk Louis, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Long Distance

Until || @allwaswell16 || 38.2k Cowboy Harry, Famous/Non-Famous, Songwriter Louis, Side Shiall

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet Series || @allwaswell16 || 34.3k Exes to Lovers, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Chicago, Song Fic

A Hungry Heart || @jacaranda-bloom || 27.6k GBBO AU, Famous/Non-Famous, Fluff/Smut/Humor

Something To Remember || @parmahamlarrie || 25k  Soulmate AU, Famous Harry, Writer Louis, Travel, Hawaii

Suddenly They’re Right || sapphichug || 22.3k Famous/Non-Famous, Professor Louis, Friends with Benefits, Pining, Feelings, Therapy

Whirlwind || dolce_piccante || 21.3k Famous/Non-Famous, Actor Harry, Teacher Louis, Childhood Friends to Lovers

Answer All Your Wishes Verse || @sadaveniren || 19.1k Mpreg, Famous Louis, Non-Famous Harry, Kid Fic

Your heart can love again || sloganeer || 18k Older Louis, Famous Louis, Tattoos, H works for Grimshaw

tonight’s not over (come over and stay) || @adoredontour || 17k Famous Harry, College Student Louis, Lots of Fluff

Fugue || @canonlarry || 16.5k Established Relationship, Famous/Non Famous, Kidfic, Amnesia

Hold My Heart || @a-writerwrites @phdmama || 14.3k Strangers to Lovers, Famous/Non Famous, Doctor Harry, Mile High Club

Tease You, Please You || @homosociallyyours || 12.5k Girl Direction, Famous/Non Famous, Boss/Employee (kinda), Friends to Lovers

Even As Young As You Are || @olo-gist || 12.3k Kidfic, Uncle Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Famous Harry, Nurse Louis

Come In and Change My Life || @lightwoodsmagic || 12.1k Omegaverse, Famous/Non-Famous, Mpreg, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k ** Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Be Mine? || @softfonds || 11.1k Valentine's Day, Famous/Non Famous, Fluff and Smut, Singer Louis

I Heard You Talking || @lululawrence || 10.5k Famous/Non Famous, Older Louis, Football Player Harry

Lately You’ve Been On My Mind || @lululawrence || 9.3k Famous/Non Famous, Youtuber Louis

I Remember (The Distances We Covered) || @lululawrence || 5.2k Famous/Non Famous, Soccer Player Louis, Teacher Harry

Under My Umbrella || @lululawrence || 5k  Girl Direction, Famous/Non Famous

(on the edge until) you pull me in || @zjofierose || 3.1k ** Famous/Non Famous, Age Difference, Single Dad Louis, Wanker's Day

tonight he's a paradox || @daggerandrose || 2.4k ** Famous/Non Famous, Coachella, Masseuse Louis, Famous Harry

and in those rare moments || @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed || 2.1k ** Famous/Non Famous, Exes to Lovers, Singer Harry, Journalist Louis, Unique Structure

[greenbergwrites]

oh wait wait wait hang on one more

temple attendant steve, dressed in wispy white tunics, quietly cleaning and caring for the temple and the supplicants by day, always so sweet and tender for the people coming to beg the god for children or whatever other things they are praying for

and by night getting thoroughly railed by his hungry god

I wrote like 1500 words to this and my computer decided it did not want to work properly anymore. I managed to rewrite what I’d lost and then get to this point before my computer decided to stop working completely. I had to wait to post this at work XD

So. Like. I meant to change the way it ends or at least write more but I don’t know when I’ll get the home computer situation fixed so I figured I’d just throw it up here for your enjoyment.

It is weirdly angsty, Bucky is hardly in it, and it's minor character focused for something that was supposed to be a porn prompt. But I still like it.

Warnings for a famine situation and all that goes with it and mentions of fertility issues.

Also, if anyone can’t tell, I’ve been scouring my inbox all week for goodies. This one’s from 2022 based on this post and then this story.

Alpha Fertility God Bucky, Take #2

–

Steve was born an Omega runt and we’re not going to enlighten this ‘verse, either, so that’s bad. His birth pack gives him to the temple as a babe and that’s where he grows up.

He could grow up bitter and angry, but he doesn’t. Somehow, he turns out kind.

Each morning, he is the first to greet his Alpha Lord in the temple. The sun’s rays have barely peeked over the horizon when he slips through the columns of the great hall, heading toward a smaller back chamber.

In his teens, the birth rate in the village rose for several years. During that time, the temple saw a boom. The priests received enough money to enlarge the temple and build a new statue of their god, one seated on a huge dais, glittering gold and taking up most of the wall.

Steve does not approach this statue, though he takes the time to pause and bow to it as he walks.

No, the statue he greets every morning is the one that had been there when he’d been given to the temple. It’s in a small chamber now facing the eastern horizon.

Some of the younger attendants call it the morning god for the way its bathed in light each sunrise. 

Steve carries with him a tray, which he sets at the statue’s feet.

The first step in his morning ritual is to kiss the statue on each cheek.

“Good morning, my Lord Alpha,” he murmurs, bending to light the incense. “Did you sleep well?”

Statues do not sleep, of course, but Steve always asks. He hopes that perhaps, somewhere in the great universe, his lord hears a whisper on the wind and knows that someone cares.

The incense burning, Steve picks up a small, decorative bowl filled with perfumed water. Dipping two fingers into it, Steve sets about spread the perfume upon the statue.

When he was a child, he watched the High Priests perform this ceremony to this very statue each morning. Now, they do it to the new statue, but they wait until the doors are open and the village people can witness their dedication.

It is a show performed for the peace of mind of the villagers. This is not a show. It is worship.

“The drought continues,” he says as he works. “Three weeks since the last rain. The farmers worry too much of the food will rot in the fields and we won’t have enough for winter.”

The statue perfumed, he sets down the bowl and opens the last item on the tray: a small cloth tied into a knot. Inside is a small chunk of bread and cheese, the two of items together no bigger than his fist.

“We’re asked to reduce our offerings,” he continues. “I understand. Babes need food and I think you would rather see them eat. But I cannot let you go hungry, so I brought you this. It’s from my breakfast, so no one will will suffer.”

With everything set out, Steve kneels once more, closing his eyes as he leans his cheek against the statue’s knee. He stays there, allowing himself this peace, until the sun warms his back and he hears others in the great hall. Only then does he begin his day.

He began temple life as a cleaner. It is the easiest job for children and the attendants were always good about keeping them away from the statues when they were too young to comprehend. 

He did that job well, but the problem with cleaning is it is a mindless task. It was so easy to listen in on what was being said around him and through that, he heard the pain of the people in the village. What was he to do but offer comfort?

Too many times being caught by the priests and finally, they made it his job. He now helped the villagers with their offerings, listened to their stories, offered whatever comfort he could. 

It was not much in the grand scheme of things, but it mattered. It was a job he could be proud of.

When the great doors opened, the first thing Steve hears is the familiar sound of a wooden cane striking hard earth.

Old Man Erskine is the oldest Omega in the village. Every morning, he makes the trek from his little hut to the temple and leaves a modest offering of dried fruit seeds. They are never for himself; always, he offers in the same of someone he thinks can use an extra prayer.

For the past decade, he’s had trouble with his hip. The walk hurts him but he refused the notion of giving it up or asking another to make the offering in his stead. His only concession seems to be allowing Steve to help him from the great doors to the altar across the room.

“Who is it for today?” Steve asks as they make the trek.

“My granddaughter,” Erskine says, his breathing hard and labored with the effort. “The eldest one. Her sisters have all born children, but she and her mate are still without. She’s a good girl and I know she’d make a good mother. She deserves this.”

Steve smiles, squeezing Erskine’s hand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a trio of seeds.

“To add to your offering,” he murmurs, tipping the seeds into the Omega’s open palm. “It isn’t much, just from yesterday’s snack. Perhaps with these, my lord will hear your prayer and grant her a blessing.”

Erskine’s own offering is meager, a scant few seeds, but it must be. They are all struggling in these times.

His eyes shine as he lifts his gaze to Steve. With his free hand, he touches his palm to Steve’s cheek.

“Bless you, boy,” he says. “What a joy you are.”

He bends his head, kissing the seeds and whispering a prayer before he flings them at the statue’s feet. As they fly through the air, Steve closes his eyes and adds his own prayer.

When the old man leaves, another takes his place and then another, and another. 

At some point in the morning–and he doesn’t know when–Steve becomes aware of a lurking presence in the shadows of the great hall.

He’s a tall, broad Alpha male dressed all in black, a sword at his hip and his hood pulled low. There is an air of power and confidence surrounding him that Steve has never seen before–not even in the richest of men.

The scent trail he leaves behind is intoxicating, heavy and dominating. It holds an undercurrent of arousal, as if the Alpha is on the cusp of his rut. It might explain why he’s in the temple at all, though he never goes to the altar.

Steve means to talk to him–to ask if he can offer guidance–but he is waylaid at every turn. 

First a new mother coming to thank the god for her easy birth and then a string of new brides hoping to be blessed on their wedding night.

The latest is a young boy, perhaps only eight. He’s too young to present yet, but Steve sees the Alpha in him already. The poor boy worries too much for his family, a weight of responsibility on him that should not be on one so young. The boy’s mother is set to give birth within the month and someone’s filled his head with the horrors of labor. 

Steve doesn’t ask who; he’s afraid that if he knew, he would hunt them down for hurting this innocent.

He kneels with the boy at the statue's feet, stroking his hair.

“I don’t have anything to give,” the boy whispers, watching others lay down their offerings. He turns to Steve, staring up at him with big brown eyes. “I didn’t…I didn’t know I needed anything.”

Steve smiles and kisses his forehead, reaching into his robes to pull out a silver coin.

“Here,” he says. “Give him this and tell him your fears.”

He would’ve used the coin to buy material for a new tunic. Some would call it a sacrifice, giving the coin away, but Steve doesn't see it that way. Alleviating this boy's fears is far more important. 

“It will be a wasted blessing, though, I think,” he muses. “The mother of a boy so strong and good could not fall to the labors of bringing his sister into the world. I’m sure of it.”

“Sister?” The boy looks up at him in surprise. “Do you think?”

Steve hums, carding fingers through his curls.

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Only the most worthy big brothers are given little sisters, and I can’t think of a big brother more worthy than you. In a month, your mother will be fine and you’ll have a sister to look after. You’ll bring them to the temple so I can meet them, won’t you?”

The boy beams. “Yes,” he vows.

Throughout it all, the stranger in black is an ever lingering presence in his periphery. The Alpha walks the edge of the room, a silent, intimidating presence. Watching.

It’s curious that no one has asked him to leave yet, given the fact that he has offered no prayer or trinket or even supplication to the god. This is a sacred space, it isn’t for gawkers. 

Steve has only just decided that if no one else will do it, he will ask the stranger to leave, when he sees the woman.

She’s another of the villagers, though not one that he ever remembers seeing. Her clothes are threadbare and worn, dark bags under her eyes and her hair neglected and unkempt. She’s far too thin, especially for someone with a growing babe in her arms and two small children trailing behind.

It takes such energy to care for the young, but this woman looks like she has nothing left to give. She’s exhausted, on the verge of tears, defeat showing in every line of her body.

Steve, the stranger in black forgotten, approaches her with open hands and an encouraging, sweet smile.

“What blessings do you ask for today?” He asks by way of greeting.

The woman hesitates, looking from the child in her arms to the two hiding behind her skirts. She looks back up at Steve, a little lost.

He understands. Whatever she’s here for, she doesn’t want the children to hear. He beckons another attendant over, bidding them to watch the children while he takes the mother across the room.

They kneel together at the altar, the mother staring at her lap unseeing. Her eyes brim with tears, her knuckles bloodless where she clutches her dress.

“It’s not right,” she murmurs, her voice coarse. “It’s not right to ask what I’ve got to ask.”

Steve touches her hand. “That’s not for us to decide. Go on. He will understand.”

She takes in a ragged breath, shaking her head just once as a tear slips down her cheek. She sighs the sigh of someone too burdened.

“The little one,” she says, “he’s six months next week. His Daddy’s already talking of another. He comes from a big family, you see, and he wants one of his own. I wanted to give him that, once upon a time. I did. But it’s too many mouths, my lord. The field’s aren’t yieldin’ what we need. One of us’ll be dead before winter’s through if we keep going like this.”

She closes her eyes, rocking against her hands.

“It’ll be me,” she whispers. “It’ll be me, ‘cause I won’t see my children starve. I won’t. But if I’m gone, who’ll care for them?”

Steve’s stomach drops. Suddenly, her thin frame makes too much sense.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” He asks softly.

“Doesn’t matter,” she says, cutting him a hard look. “I won’t see my children starve.”

The fire in her dies as quickly as it came. She reaches into her skirts with shaking hands and brings out a tattered cloth. When she unfolds it, it holds only a single slice of apple.

“It’s all I have to give,” she murmurs. She looks to Steve again, but this time, she’s uncertain. “I’ve never offered before. Never needed to–the babes came quickly, one after another. What do I do? Just leave it here?”

Steve swallows roughly.

“What is it, exactly, that you ask for?”

She trembles, her fingers spasming around the cloth. She has the look of a woman who knows that if she speaks the words out loud, she can never take them back. But she knows she has to.

“Make me barren,” she whispers. “I’ve had three, let me have no more. I don’t care if it makes him hate me, I can’t watch them waste away.”

She hesitates, her breathing ragged, before breathing out, “And I don’t want to die.”

Steve gathers her to his chest, squeezing as tightly as he can.

“You won’t,” he whispers. “You won’t, I won’t let you. Wait here, I’ll help.”

He lets go, thrusting himself to his feet and taking off toward the back rooms of the temple. Underneath the main chamber, the kitchens are situated. He runs through the halls until he reaches them, taking up a basket and filling it with anything he can find.

There must be something in his expression because none of the kitchen workers try to stop him, though many give him hard looks that say they will be telling the high priests. He doesn’t care. He will take whatever punishment they dole out, but he will not let a mother or her children starve. 

They have plenty, what is it for if not to help those that serve his lord?

He comes to a halt when he enters the great hall again. The woman still kneels at the altar, but the stranger in black is with her now. He squats in front of her, smoothing down her unkempt hair as she drinks from his waterskin.

Her burden is gone. Life had weighed her down only minutes before, but it’s seemingly disappeared. She stares at the stranger with a dazed expression.

The stranger stands, helping her to her feet. He kisses her knuckles and then her forehead before bidding her back toward her children. 

A shaft of light catches her face and to Steve’s utter bafflement, she no longer looks haggard and worn. Her once sallow skin glows with health, the bruises gone from her eyes and with it, her palpable exhaustion.

Steve starts to go after her, but the stranger intercepts.

“What have you done to her?” He demands, trying and failing to look over the stranger’s shoulder. “Move at once! She needs food before she keels over.”

“Be still, little one,” the stranger soothes, taking Steve by the shoulders. “She is well. She will not starve, I give you my word. I have seen to it.”

Steve looks up at him, confused and a little dazed himself. The stranger’s hood has been removed, the lines of a strikingly handsome face revealed. His scent is overwhelming, crackling like the atmosphere before a lightning strike.

“What did you do to her?” Steve asks again, softer this time.

“I did nothing but take her burden,” the stranger promises, touching his cheek. “She will have nothing more to fear.”

Steve frowns, looking down at the basket in his hands. He tries to peek around the stranger again, but he cannot find the woman.

“Truly, she will be alright?” He asks, scanning the crowds. “She will not starve?”

When he looks back to the stranger, it’s to see a sweet smile spreading across his full lips.

“You care very much, don’t you, little one?” The stranger asks gently.

“Of course,” Steve says, affronted. “These people trust me. They trust my Alpha Lord. What would I be if I took that so lightly?”

“Unremarkable,” the stranger answers, as if the question were not rhetorical. “And unfortunately common. Not many take their service to the gods so seriously.”

Yes, Steve thinks sourly. He knows too well.

He has seen it too often in his short lifetime, not just from other attendants but from the priests as well. His fingers tighten around the basket.

He will need to return it to the kitchens if the mother will not need it, but he can’t seem to find it in him to do it now.

“What brings you to the temple?” He asks instead. “You have been here a long time, but have made no offering. Do you have nothing to give?”

The stranger smiles at him again, strong fingers brushing along Steve’s jaw.

“If I said that I did not,” he murmurs, “would you give to me the way you have given to all the others?”

Oh. Steve blushes, the heat rising in his cheeks quickly.

The stranger has been watching him.

“Yes,” he answers truthfully. “If you tell me what you’d ask of my lord, and if it is not blasphemy, I would help in whatever way I can."

The stranger leans forward, his lips brushing the shell of Steve’s ear.

“That's good,” he murmurs, “because what I desire, little one, is a mate."

[barrenclan]

I don't know if this song has been suggested yet but 15 Step by Radiohead for Rainhaze? Not just for the "one by one / it comes to us all / it's as soft as your pillow" (in reference to how he perceived death) but if you're willing to skew the optimism in the first verse, I see it as the line where he finally 'realizes' what Defiance is all about - when he finally sheds the Old Rainhaze for the new one by killing Asphodelpaw ("first you reel me out and then you cut the string"). Plus, there's a very on the nose reference that I see Ranger making to him in relation to finding out about Barrenclan ("you used to be alright, what happened? / did the cat get your tongue? / did your string come undone?") which is conveniently immediately before the Death lines.

And with recent developments (I had this ask planned for a while lol) now the "You used to be alright, what happened?" ...Ohhhh that hits. The difference between the mocking tone of Ranger the first time around, and then the second time the verse is repeated, it being cut off with "etcetera, etcetera..." which I either interpret as Rainhaze being unable to finish 'convincing' the rest of Barrenclan because he got interrupted then Tigerstar'd... Much to think about.

Anyway love this comic, been following it (and TDS!) since day 1, can't believe it's been so many years of it. At least one. You have a talent for storytelling!! I can't wait to see what you have planned for the future, big fan!

Haven't heard this one yet! But I'm always happy to get some Radiohead. I'm very flattered you've been enjoying the comic, and following my stories for so long.

Ooh, I always like getting instrumental music recommendations! I've never seen LOST, but both my parents watched it while it was airing. PATFW is definitely a mystery story, although I like to think I got to my resolutions better than JJ did. Giacchino is a great scorer of course, I like how this song is sad, sweet, and a little ominous. Reminds me of Twin Peaks.

Haha yes, it's definitely a popular suggestion for a popular song. But it is very pretty, and I do like the themes of burial and fighting to try and restrain someone who won't be restrained.

You can't keep them all caged They will fight and run away Mother, tell me so I say

Barren curtains that you're weaving Like the stories that you keep inside your head She can't keep them all safe They will die and be afraid

Oh... yeah. Anything with scary angel imagery fits very well for her, because I heavily associate Asphodelpaw with Laura Palmer.

Carry me in your teeth with tender jaws of sympathy (Arrow deep inside the meat Impossible for us to reach)

Shattered in a mist of crippled, angel silhouettes Lift the dirt, and cover me Lay at my side until I'm finally sleeping Until I'm finally sleeping

I like it! Comorantpaw has a strong streak of self-hatred and lately, is very much feeling like he's permanently stained with evil because of his past. But he still wants to be there for Pinepaw, maybe thinking it's all he's good for.

Bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze If you must drink of me, take of me what you please I am loathed to say it's the devil's taste I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

Come up here to speak to me and hold your face to mine Any man can hold my gaze has done his job just fine You just sold your life away to be with me tonight Hold your head against my chest, I think you'll be just fine

Classic Glass Animals! I think it captures the feeling of Issue 38 well.

Everything, waiting, shaking as it drops I tried for you and I, for too hard, for too long Gave it all and everything for more time, but I lost

… Ooh, I'm breaking down Whispers would deafen me now You don't make a sound Heartbreak was never so loud

Hahah! Yeah, this fits them well.

What did I do to deserve you? How did you find me? I was already halfway gone You were a bright light You were a fistfight, oh

Our love is older than the Great Wall Our love spins a gun around its finger Our love has found its way into our mouths before Cut our teeth until we swallow it whole

Great Rainhaze song! It gets at that fatalistic, manic energy he has that's especially evident in Issue 37.

Losing my mind It never felt so good to be alive Crucify my name I never felt more famous than today, where I am no one To nothing

Lose your mind baby You'll never feel so good to be alive, I say again I say erase your name, sweet honey You'll never feel more famous than today, where you are no one (no one)

I believe it was suggested a couple years ago with Hush Puppy and Thrasher, but not Rainhaze! It's an interesting angle to make it about him and Ranger.

One last kiss I love you like a broken pot One last kiss I love you like a pack of dogs One last kiss I need you like I need a gaping head wound