#we met at the end of eden fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doublekanble · 8 months ago

Text

sibling

Lucifer-reader (gnc)

platonic

word count: 3.5k

the reason i dont write for women is because i would die doing so, anyway, im celebrating my first non-al fic with sleeping on time.

You have a brother. Not by blood. No. Never. You’re not Adam, nor are you Lilith, with skin the tone of light ivory and body defined by the dust of earth and dirt. You two are not bound by blood, nor are you bound by the particles that encapsulate the vast universe beyond the haven you both resides in. Not even to the vessels you were born into, or the similar structure of your souls, the basis for all angels. None of those means will ever be enough to define the bond you have.

(“Hey! Over here!” He laugh and called out your name, you laugh and follow his voice.)

Lucifer is a dreamer, an idealist and a mischievous soul. All in heaven knows of his name, and almost all of them have less than beautiful word about the tiny Archangel. Looked down and frowned upon, Lucifer’s jokes and games are less than entertainment to most. No matter how many duty he filled out by hands, they will never look at him as anything more than a simple trouble-maker (let alone the fact the duty itself is utterly useless in your eyes, but you digressed).

His voice too loud, too grating on one’s ears. His jokes too immature and too brazen to another. His handwritten letters crinkled at the corner, his smiles too bright and wide. His footstep too loud, his eating too messy, his stand too proud and his ideals too dangerous and downright blasphemous.

At some point, your brother’s face, molded, heated, sculpted and paint by Father’s hands himself, once so bright and perfect, one that supposed to never aged, aged.

(He pulls you by the wrist and guide you both from Heaven, down and down to the Garden itself. Lucifer is the fastest angel (Archangel) you know, but you also know he like flying by your side, so you pull yourself forward a bit and take your time despite your own circumstance.

“What are you trying to show me brother?” you smile, pretending to be exasperated by his antics. “We’ve already seen the four corners of this endless place. What ever is there to be excited about?”

“Oh-ho-ho. You’ll see when we get there~!” )

In everyone else’s eyes, your brother is nothing but a blight at worst, an annoyance at best. But to you, he’s your older brother, who took you by the hand and shows you magic tricks and sing silly songs to you when you first met; determined to distract you from your crooked left wing bleeding gold (that too, he fixed for you). Ever since then, the once-dutiful you spent your free days floating by his side, and before anyone can say anything about it, you two were inseparable.

If someone finds you by a tree somewhere, they would find you with a lyre in your lap, strumming away a tune you knew by heart while your brother sang a song with no rhythm. If they were to find him by a once-white wall, they’ll find that you’re right there with him holding paint and brushes in your hand as he drew crude and unrecognized shapes. He walks and you follow. Where you can find one, it’ll never be without the other.

Those songs, the makeshift pieces of art, your good papers that he kept stealing and his paint that always stained the corner of each and every single one of your robes. Those are the happiest days you have and will ever live in your eternal life.

“Is this the surprise...?” You look around the breathtaking space you’re standing in, trying to sound as casual as you can while Lucifer blanched and turns from one end to the other. Sunlight streaming through the leaves as distant chirps of birds reverberate. Heaven is beautiful, but Eden is perfect. If only you can spend more time here right now, but you need to be back by Sera’s side in thirty minutes, like it or not. “I mean, this is always a welcoming sight, but-“

“Wait please hold on! This was NOT supposed to play out like this, she should’ve been here- Imeanuhhhhh nothing um I was not supposed to say that-“ he groaned and run his free hand over his face. “Just- Lemme go look for her- you hold on right there I promised it won’t be long I’ll-”

Patting the hand that was still holding onto your wrist gently, you smile. “Luci, it’s no problem to me, really.” It is, but you’re not going to let him know, “Whatever it is you want to show me, it’ll be perfect. You just tripped a little, that’s-oof!”

He all but crushed you in his arms, six wings encasing you in a hug so tight, you feel like being wedged in between the crust of the earth and the sea. But you still try to pat his back before he pulls away and fly off with a quick “Just a sec!” and then you’re left alone, still processing whatever he was saying. Whoever this “she” can be, you trusted Lucifer, if only he could be a bit faster. You pull a watch from your right front pocket and flip its casing open.

He have twenty-five minutes, you sigh, whatever the new surprise maybe, it’s surely giving him a run for his life. Just then, a bird suddenly came into view, it’s beautiful long feathers dance in the air as it pranced over to you, graceful and poised.

“Hello there friend…What a delightful little thing like you doing here?” lowering onto your knees, you hastily shove your watch back into its place and open your arms to the bird. The thing settled in your embrace, right at home as you rock it back and forth and sing it’s praises. “Such a friendly thing…”

He have about eighteen minutes to show you whatever he wants to. You really hope you can go back soon. But as you’re recounting a story to the bird about a problem the Elders were fighting over, some silly dispute about making another human for one of the first, you hear a faraway voice calling your name. Quickly, he closed the distance.

“There you are!” looking beyond disheveled, your brother re-emerges behind a bush at the twelve-minute mark – smiles akin to the sun as he collected his breath, “Ok, so before we do this, you’ll need to promise me something first. You have to keep this a secret. For now. I think…” you raised an eyebrow as you swept his hair back into place, he sputtered “-It’s not anything bad! I swear! Butttt I’m pretty sure we’ll get intotroubleifanyoneelsefoundoutsoplease-“

“Brother, I promise.” You laugh, bouncing the bird a bit, you hope whoever it is, they’ll get along well. “Now, what was it you wanted to show me so badly you pulled me from lunch break and then came back to me looking like this?”

He hissed with a slightly embarrassed smile, but quickly recovered. As he straighten up, Lucifer waves his hand over the tree next to the bush he just came from, calling out to it in a tone you’ve never heard from him before, calling out to her. The bird suddenly stir in your arms as it fling itself to the sky and pulled your attention from them, your eyes following the bird in dismayed. And when you turn back, you feel the air leaving your lungs as you stare at the most beautiful person you’ll ever see.

“Ta-da! Surprise! Wha-za!” Lucifer struck several ridiculous poses as she laugh gently, covering her mouth. But her attention quickly turns back to you, who stand frozen like a new born fawn with mouth half open. When she smile at you, you immediately understand just why Lilith the human was so beloved by Father despite her rebellious attitude, and wondered if Adam also is as breath-taking as her.

“…”

“Um, Heaven to you? You there~?” He knows what’s going on in your head. You know he knows, so you hit his arm and almost growl at him for the first time.

“Hello there. You must be Lucifer’s sibling.” Her voice like the wind. Her eyes the color of light violet. You immediately recalled the beautiful Chrysanthemums you took from the garden some days back, petals just as lovely, if not less, than hers.

“…Hi…” you breathe, and then jolted back awake. “I mean- uh- greetings. Miss Lilith. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.”

Her expression change just a bit, and you kick yourself down for it. “Please don’t be so courteous. Lilith is fine!” She walks forward and held onto your hands; you feel faint. “Lucifer told me so much about you. I’m glad I finally get to put a face to the name.”

“I hoped I’m fitted to your expectations, miss-“ she glares at you, you’re convinced the beating of your own heart weakened your resolve. “Lilith. Lilith.”

At this, she gives you a pleasant smile. “That would take time for me to know, now wouldn’t it?”

Lilith was merciful enough to let go of your right hand as she calls to Lucifer, who was smiling with utter glee in his eyes. But you can’t properly register anything at the time, completely defenseless and left to the mercy of Lilith as your brother ignores your bewitched state. You wondered just why does people also look down on Lilith. Everything about her screams utter beauty and grace. That is, until you came to and realizing they were both grinning at each other.

Lilith expression, though still fair and utterly lovely, was foreign to you. Your brother’s, however, help you realizing there’s no way in Father’s name you can go back to Sera with the time you have left.

Only ever seeing her from afar, you now find yourself drawn to her in the same way your brother was. As beauty is to the beholder, you would be more than glad to say that Lilith is the pinnacle of beauty. No, not just that, she must be the definition.

“-I don’t know how long I can hold this-“

“You’ll be fine Luci~” he groaned as Lilith turns to you and whispered “How long did you say he can stay like that for?”

You know he can hear you both despite her effort, so you look at him in the eyes and pretend to ponders.

“Hm~ At least two hours is needed for me to made the paint-“ you can do it in seconds if you choose to, “and my hands are so unsteady…” you can draw a circle, not perfect, but you don’t need perfection in your work, until today that is, “So… my dearest, strongest, most wonderful and amazing brother can stay like that until we’re done.”

She pulls you into her arms, laughing and aggreging with you as Lucifer seethes and curse under his breath. It wouldn’t take as long as he dreaded, he gives up half way through and opted to show you two some trick he learned instead. But it certainly was enough for him to weaponized it for the next 6 days. Lilith distracted you two from your sibling rivalry all the while.

You would’ve love to gawk and hand-pick each and every trait she have to write songs and poems about, but were you to truly do that, you’ll have to pick all of dear Lilith apart. Father’s skills and love truly shines through her appearance in every way. And yet, so distinctly, she’s not the same as everything else Father made.

As you observed the way Lilith would dance with Lucifer, you realized just how similar their souls are, despite being made from different molds and materials. Lilith brough to Lucifer a certain charm, a place for him to hang about as he falls. Lucifer in turns, brought a wave of chaos to her, one that she handled with utter grace and would indulge in. Her towering figure holding onto him as she brings him from the river they fell into, her lyre playing the oddest of tunes that somehow compliments his terrible singing. The faces he painted on the rocks in the garden are followed right behind with her own piece of art, just as terrible as his and just as lovely. All a lovely and gentle and beloved kind of love, but one where you suddenly feels like the garden isn’t a place for you anymore, despite them always calling your name and laughing with you.

And in the midst of it, you soon realized you can’t find the trace of paint handmade by your brother on your robes anymore, and none of your good papers ever disappeared with a mischievous grin hiding behind it. But as always, you followed after him when he offers his hand. And then one day Sera gives you an off-handed praise about finally distancing yourself from Lucifer, and suddenly, it hit you that it’s been a month since he draped himself across your desk and pull you away to play some games he came up with that day. Time passes quickly for those who do not live, and it passed by even quicker for dreamers living in happy days.

Unbecoming of yourself, you would fallen ill for three days and two night, not the kind where you would lie in bed and barely move. It’s the kind where you move with a fervor, unable to think for anything except from tearing everything in your room open and breaking every other thing that can’t be torn. Immortal beings cannot handled the concept of non-eternal love. It hurts all the more that the two souls you want to direct this anger at is the two you will readily die for. You grappled with the possibility of feeling betrayed and abandoned by people who never leave in the first place by punching at the walls until your knuckles tore open to the bones. How do you mourn people who never die. You do not know. So for those three days and two nights, you learned how to.

But jealousy is an unsightly trait of an angel, and honestly is applauded. So afterward, you turn to Sera and asked her for guidance, seeking the inner peace and order she and the Elders have been preaching all this time before you can let yourself find out what happened to angels who let the unsightly takes them. So that you wouldn’t ever know what happened to angels who let the unsightly into their room, yours was cleaned of all the broken and torn.

But forever, your heart still turned towards your older brother and his new love. Every time you open your eyes after a restful sleep, your thoughts are filled with them. And despite Sera’s advices, you would still seek them out just to listen to their songs, and as they dance across the Garden, you learned and made peace with simply watching on. Soon, a small seed, like that of an apple tree was planted in your heart and it grows every time they smile, with or without you, and slowly you find in you a sense of tranquility. Because by Lilith side, your brother’s once tired visage soon grow a new life, one better than you can ever hope to give him. And by Lucifer side, she glows with something you can’t ever put a finger on, as if being born anew every moment. So one day, you held onto her hand while Lucifer flies off to catch a duck by the pond.

“Are you happy by Lucifer’s side?”

Her graceful and sharp expression broke with a smile, so bright and gentle, just like your brother.

“As happy as I can ever be.”

Your own face, reflecting in her light violet eyes, akin to beautiful blooming Chrysanthemums, is one filled to the brim with mirth. You would embrace her in your arms for the last time as you bid the two goodbye and leave. From then on, you forbid yourself from ever entering Eden, even as your brother would beg you at times. You only send Lilith gifts and letters you wrote by hand, afraid of encroaching onto their garden, it’s no longer a space that belongs to you.

Far until the day you woke up and wondering what you’ll have for dessert. It hits you that life have returns to its state of normalcy, one where you think about Lilith and Lucifer having fun and one where you hoped they're laughing as loud as they can; for Lucifer is your dearest older brother, and Lilith your beloved older sister, not bounded by blood, not tied by soul. You hope he can get Lilith and himself out of Heaven’s grasp one day. Such a rigid place can never be enough for them.

Their yelling was so, so loud. Half of you hope to be anywhere else at all, and the other half hope you can go back to being a speck of dust in the galaxy. But you’re standing in the court of the Elders as they fought over your life, unable to wish and pray yourself away from here (it’s unbecoming for an angel to wish) and unable to process a single word they’re saying as you poured over the details.

(“Surely it knows! You can’t see it by anyone else’s side except from him!” “You’re the closest to that vile snake! You must’ve plotted together with him?!”

“Throw it down too! We can’t risk another one!”)

Your eyes flitting across the documents and fucking transcripts that was made over the days of the event and what happened after. Although their every motion finally written in clear ink, you can’t help but focus on one thing.

They took from the apple tree and dare gave it to Eve, Adam’s new bride. More-or-less tricking her and causing the downfall of humanity, the papers all-but stated.

(“I begged of you, they surely do not. For all this time, they have been by my side! For the past week, they haven’t even saw him!”

“How are you so sure?!”

“Are you saying I’m blind, Elder?”

“How dare you talk back! You wretched-“

A hand reach out, silencing the court. A single Elder stand with their eyes watching your hunched form. You were a particularly hard-working angel, despite your association and your actions at time.)

It was unanimously agreed that Lucifer and Lilith will be cast down to Hell, a palace made of misery just for them. Their thought crimes might've turned to outright blasphemy, but there is mercy in the arms of Father. Eve’s fate however, remained unknown. They’ll have a court session about her tomorrow, to be entice or to let yourself be enticed, a rock and a hard place. There’s talk and whispers in the walls, of casting her to the same fate as your brother and his lover the moment her soul leave her newly-made body. Your grief is with Lucifer and Lilith, fully aware of the real punishment.

(“Then will you, Oh Honored Seraphim, swear with your eternal life that this one won’t fall like he did?”)

Being able to escaped Heaven and the judging eyes of others would’ve been a dream for them. Somewhere where white and black rules and golden rigid structures won’t tie down their dreams of freedom and love. What better ways to break them than to let them watch the consequences of their blasted dreams.

“…”

She held onto your hand, as you finally collapsed on the stand and weep openly for all to see. They turn and discussed amongst themselves as you feel your breath gets taken away all over again.

“Honored Seraphim?”

“I swear to our Father, and to my eternal life.”

Sera grips on you is strong and firm even as she leads you from the court and back to your room, all cozy and warm and so unlike your burning heart and freezing body. She sat on your bed and held onto your shivering form, wide-eye and as terrified as the day you were born.

“From now on, their eyes are on you.”

You catches the glimpse on her face, miserable and heavy, masked behind a tough front. You wondered whether she knew this would’ve happened. You wondered if she’s doubting herself for trusting you. Your life now tied to her hand.

“From now on, you have no brother. You must stay strong.”

From now on, you both have no sibling. As you cry yourself into the dark, you briefly remembers Lilith gentle hand holding onto yours when you doze off, Lucifer sing a lullaby you can’t recalled, his voice normal and lovely. Now so far away from them, you wondered if there’s any meaning at all to dreams.

You once had a brother and a sister, not by blood, if only you could be bound to them by blood. Unlike the blessed humans, your regrets and sorrow cannot end in a single night and nothing in the world can ever take your ghastly form away. Your soul is made by hand, plucked from the infinite of the world; body melts in mold, sculpted from stardust instead of dirt. If only you too, were made of dirt. Instead, you now watch over the misshapen sculpted clays and dirt that made it to the pearly gates and take care of them as best you could. Jealousy is unbecoming of an angel, but you no longer care about knowing what happened to the one that fell.

You once had a brother and a sister, once. And ever since you haven’t, you’ve been dutifully and restlessly waiting until they can come back home.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #luficer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lilith morningstar #x reader #hazbin hotel oneshot #tumblr rlllly hates the banner on this one for some reason

60 notes · View notes

shadowgast-recs-weekly · 8 months ago

Text

Science Fiction: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have science fiction! Check under the cut for 7 fics that include a lot of space and other sci-fi tropes, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

The Schwarzschild Solution by dawl_and_dapple (13650, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A series of meetings between Caleb and Essek across the galaxy.

Reccer says: Loved the build between them and the picture of the universe they live in

A Tapestry of Stars by Cinderstorm (127981, Not Rated) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Rape/Non-con, Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, Domestic Abuse, WIP

Caleb and Essek end up in a political arranged marriage - in space!

Reccer says: There's so much politics and intrigue and feelings!

into the desert of your pitiless faith by burningdarkfire (24913, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is a newly-arrived ambassador in Rexxentrum, Beauregard is his assigned cultural liaison, and Caleb is the consecuted soul at the back of his mind. Empires and Dynasties do not serve: they consume. (A Memory called Empire AU)

Reccer says: So lyrical, and fascinating - you don't need to be familiar with A Memory Called Empire to read it, but reading this fic might make you want to read the novel, and that's a double win in my opinion.

calling occupants of interplanetary craft by principessa (1273, General) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Essek Thelyss, the sole Vulcan on the USS Eden Horizon, would quite like to be left to his experiments, and for the rest of the crew to stop calling his intellectual discussions with Commander Widogast 'weird science flirt lunch dates.'

Reccer says: It's a lot of fun!

you must first invent the universe by renquise (3466, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

The Mighty Nein are getting ready for a big fight. Caleb can't seem to sleep while they wait, so he ends up talking with the ship instead.

Reccer says: Absolutely fascinating world building!!

such a constellation by Chrome (6362, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Exhausted and disillusioned with Starfleet in the aftermath of the destruction of Romulus and the loss of his friend, Romulan maybe-spy Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast retires to his parent's farm in Germany with the intent to view the stars through a telescope from now on. But an unexpected arrival changes everything, and Caleb discovers that the wider universe may not quite be done with him yet.

Reccer says: This is a fabulous fusion that encapsulates the wizards so perfectly in a different story. Worth every second of the read!

Sufficiently Advanced Magic by SaltCore (5880, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Have you ever wondered what would happen if Caleb and Essek met Spock, Captain Kirk and the protagonists of the Locked Tomb series? No? Me neither, but I sure am glad I found out!

Reccer says: For one, the origin story of this fic is uniquely wholesome - it came to be as a result of all three pairs reaching the finale of a shipping tumblr poll, to extend an olive branch and honour the ships' place in their fandoms' hearts. Secondly, it's SO funny. There's humour in every little detail and it gives me a Douglas Adams vibe. The characters' voices in their POVs are distinct and endearing too. I keep returning to it when I need my spirits lifted.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Established Relationships!

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #aeor is for lovers #critical role fan fiction #cr fic #cr fics #science fiction

52 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 7 months ago

Text

Music Monday

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @softtidesworld @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @onehornedbeast @imogenkol @g0dspeeed @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @aceghosts @shallow-gravy @shellibisshe @turbo-virgins @inafieldofdaisies @afarcryfrommymain @starsandskies @derelictheretic @purplehairsecretlair @ladyoriza @minilev @wrathfulrook @yokobai @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @skoll-sun-eater @sleepyconfusedpotato @snake-in-the-garden @thewanderer-000 @titiagls @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @red-nightskies @voidika and @la-grosse-patate + anyone else who's interested.

Three songs for The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and an Original Work of minet. Also I'm putting my WIP Wednesdays on hold, as I'm working on my newest "Intro Post" and some Masterlists. Anyway, listen and read below the cut:

Silva and Azriel's mother-daughter relationship in Silva's Hope is one of the key turning points of the fic (the underlying themes of motherhood not withstanding); it causes Silva to reevaluate her standing with both Eden's Gate and the Resistance in Hope County and motivates her to take a much more proactive rogue approach, seeking to push both factions towards a peace without spilling anymore bloodshed as there had already been (before she was just trying taking out her grief, pain and her bottled up trauma onto the cult that was similar to the two that took everything from her, and hoping to get killed in the process, a roundabout way to end her own suffering without dishonoring/abandoning the sacrifices made to get her to safety). It also gives her the chance to acknowledge and accept the death of her daughter Persephone; something she's been guilt-ridden about throughout her grief, never allowing her to make peace with it. Silva's upbringing was shaky, her childhood spent with a man who's intentions towards her were anything but pure, and her adolescence spent with the father she wished she had before things went to hell. Silva sees herself in Azriel; a girl harmed by the zealotry of a cult and denied the affection she needed and craved for until later in her life. Silva hopes to be the mother Azriel can rely on, as well as a fiercer protector. This song is both a mix of Azriel and Silva's perspective (in a way), though it's also Silva echoing promises Paul had told her (when he was a better person) but directed to Azriel this time:

youtube

"There was a time, I used to look into my father's eyes In a happy home, I was a king, I had a golden throne But those days are gone, now the memory's on the wall I hear the songs from the places where I was born

Up on the hill, across the blue lake That's where I had my first heartbreak I still remember how it all changed My father said

Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah

There was a time, I met a guy of a different kind And we ruled the world, I thought I'd never lose him out of sight We were so young, I think of him now and then I still hear the songs, reminding me of a friend, oh

Up on the hill, across the blue lake That's where I had my first heartbreak I still remember how it all changed My father said

Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah Don't you worry, don't you worry, child See Heaven's got a plan for you Don't you worry, don't you worry now, yeah."

Next song is for an Original WIP of mine called Mario: Mother's Boy, a kind of origin story for one of my OCs from The UnTitledverse, Mario Emmet, a quippy shapeshifting alien that feeds on fear, and his time being raised by his mother, Abigail Emmet, who had spent nearly a century prior masquerading as a human outlaw with the Van Der Linde Gang (and feeding off the terror of her enemies). The fic starts from 1979 and ends in 1988, ending a few months Mario's other story, The Adventures of Debra Holmes and her Amazing Best Friend Mario Emmet, in The UnTitledverse. Throughout the fic, Abigail struggles with raising her very impulsively instinctively driven son, helping him masquerade as a human while teaching him human morals and culture (while retaining some of their better alien traditions that doesn't call for the disregard of other's health), going out on hunts to feed both herself and Mario (all the while terror becomes a harder emotion to elicit from her prey, though thankfully fear isn't difficult for Mario to pry out of his own prey), making decisions that put her son before herself, something that goes against her species very nature, as well as face her own impending mortality as her lifespan shortens. But for Abigail, as long as Mario is prepared to survive in this world without her, then that's enough for her, even if the time they had together was never enough.

youtube

"I'm trying to hold my breath Let it stay this way Can't let this moment end You set off a dream in me Getting louder now Can you hear it echoing? Take my hand Will you share this with me? 'Cause darling, without you

All the shine of a thousand spotlights All the stars we steal from the night sky Will never be enough, never be enough Towers of gold are still too little These hands could hold the world but it'll Never be enough, never be enough

For me Never, never Never, never Never, for me, for me Never enough Never enough Never enough For me, for me, for me

For me Never, never Never, never Never, for me, for me Never enough, never, never Never enough, never, never Never enough For me, for me, for me

For me."

Cyberpunk: Corporate Shutdown is a Cyberpunk 2077 fic apart of Life, Despair & Monsters, following Min-Ji "Vasilisa" Choi, codenamed to simply "V" (supposed to be the Roman numeral of "Five"/"Fifth" but in Night City, people are pricks, so that number became a letter), as she navigates through the cesspool that is Night City, the dominion of Arasaka on American soil. She is mentored by both Johnny Silverhand (in her head) and an old companion of his, Rico (who Arasaka had intentions to weaponize him but he managed to escape before they could touch any more organs... though he is fighting off the side effects of Cyberpsychosis due to almost being full-borg, something forced upon him by Arasaka), into the life of a Cyberpunk. They intend to burn down Arasaka and their main enforcer, Adam Smasher, along with it. However, Smasher isn't alone; he has a pet by the name of "Impulse", and it seems Militech want a piece of the action with their newest creation: "Inviticus", so helpfully designed by one Sir Enigma Malvolio.

youtube

"Young blood, run like a river Young blood, never get chained Young blood, heaven need a sinner You can't raise hell with a saint Young blood, came to start a riot Don't care what your old man say Young blood, heaven hate a sinner But we're gonna raise hell anyway

Raise hell, yeah Raise hell Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell Baby, drop them bones Baby, sell that soul Heaven, fare thee well Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell (Oh, my-my, oh, hell yeah) Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell (Oh, my-my, oh, hell yeah) Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell

Young blood, stand and deliver No need for a queen affair Young gun, gotta pull the trigger When the whole world running scared.

Raise hell!"

24 notes · View notes

darkdemeter · 2 months ago

Note

Dem Hi! I'm back with a bit of an unhinged ask here:

Im sure this doodle gives you an idea where this is going. I was just making myself some tea, and I was thinking about Lovers In Eden (i was going to listen to a song called Eastward of Eden by Amelia Day,hence the association). And Since I am a film student, a writer and i took script classes as my subject las trimester, i offer you this unhinged recap of my conspiracy theory. So LIE (Lover in Eden) introduces us to the idea that Strife killed Y/N after a bloodlust outburst,right? Well, at first i didnt think too much of it, but then the chapter ends with the four on earth, which felt a little disembodied from the prologue. Which brings me to the hipothesis which is: Strife's lover is on earth,reborn without their memories. My proof for this theory is this: 1) We know that in the darksiders universe there is such thing as a well of souls, we know they go through the kingdom of the dead to repent and then be reborn through the well. 2) you wouldntve put the line "Love slayer" if it wasnt relevant to the plot. (Writing often times includes phrasing things a certain way to hint at other things). 3) Why would you close the chapter where you did? What relevance does the fact that the four are now on earth have? Simple, Strife will find a reborn,survivor Y/N and will fall in love with them (and have a crisis once he realizes its a whole like soulmates finding eachother again situation) 4) and last (which came to me as i wrote this) if you were to center the story only on Strife and the reader without the reader being reborn, you wouldve just started it from the medieval age/wherever strife met the reader and not end with the four on earth. Of course dont gotta tell me if im right,dont want to spoil the whole fic anyways. But I felt the need to share this with you. (I genuienly felt like the pepe silvia meme). And yeah, one offshoot of all this is that maybe the reader isnt a reborn soulmate, and that the prologue could just set up this inherit guilt and fear towards love that Strife has. Until we get the next chapter, i lay in wait...scheming/lhj/hj Have a nice rest of your day and i hope you've enjoyed my unhinged ramble. -Jer. PD: i feel so silly for sending this whole thing but as a fellow writer i know theres nothing we love more than ppl theorizing about our stuff. So here you go. I hope it doest read as overbearing,i just genuienly love your stuff.

First off, I love your pepe doodle! It’s so perfect. In fact I find it so funny that I made this a little bit ago myself... (As much as I'd love to rant and such about my AUs' lore and headcanons, I made this for shits and gigs)

I absolutely adore hearing theories readers have about my fics. (Sorry this has taken FOR-EV-ER to respond to, I'm terrible with replying at times)

I also fucking LOVE that you're a film student, I think that makes this whole theory situation even better because I do tend to have a very movie-esque thought process when writing. (Blooper reel and BTS footage rent free in my head)

And I think I've got the mind stewing a bit with that recent post, Flowers From My Lover. Without hopefully giving away anything, you do have some valid and interesting points in your theories and has me going, "Oh Jer is good little detective." You get a cookie for your theory skills!

There are indeed certain key details and clues I put in on purpose and it's so interesting to see what readers pick up on. And yes, the well of souls is involved to some extent in this plotline, but not in the way you might think...

I also find your choice of the word "reborn" interesting. Very obviously and right out the gates, I will say that yes, reader is alive in this story. But it's the manner in which reader's alive and again, the reborn theory is interesting and again, possibly not in a way you're expecting. Though it seems rather simple, I will tease that there is... quite a bit more to it than what's at face value.

And I wanna tease this little clue too because it is one of my favourites: It's interesting how the fic's title has a double meaning in plain sight...

#dem's inbox reply #darksiders #lovers in eden fic theory by jerico

11 notes · View notes

anamelessfool · 11 months ago

Text

The Mission

Gen: Secondo & Family (600-ish words)

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Holidays, Children are extremely serious especially Secondo's, Secondo retired and moved away from the Ministry a decade ago, Secondo is disabled in my AU, Dad Secondo

Secondo's children enact the most important ritual of their entire year.

Blaming and tagging @riptide-kid for this

Ficlet below the cut!

“We all have to get up.” Eden stood by her parent's bed. Her eyes were enormous, blazing with determined intensity. Her round, pale face and lank hair gave her the appearance of some ghostly entity standing in the dark of the room. The littlest brother Sam was behind her, kneading his hands.

Secondo and Sandra were no strangers to their daughter’s habit of standing by their bedside with something cryptic to say. Maybe it was Secondo’s bloodline, or maybe the eight-year-old was just extra theatrical, it was hard to tell. Secondo didn't mind it all that much. Sometimes her mysterious statements became accurate portents.

Not this morning, though. They expected her here. In fact they were surprised it was this late. She was a very punctual child, with a strong sense of what was necessary.

No surprises there.

“Mommy, it's time. Everybody has got to get up.”

“Nope, this is your father's job,” Sandra muttered. She sleepily tapped his back. “Magician and man of the house and all that. I've got fifteen minutes until I'm getting up.”

“We need to hurry then,” Eden said solemnly. Sam nodded, still frowning.

“I'm getting up at the pace I'm getting up,” Secondo announced, pulling himself upright. He reached for his forearm crutch.”Go get Paul if you want somebody fast.”

“Paul! We forgot Paul!” Sam hissed. “We left him alone!”

“Well, go get him!” Eden ordered back. Sam slipped out the door to wake their older brother. Eden paced on the carpet.

Secondo snorted, shaking his head. “Serious business.”

“They take after you, dear,” Sandra replied from under the quilt.

The door opened and Sam dragged Paul in by the wrist. The teenager blinked slowly in the soft darkness, his hair looking like it was caught in a windstorm. “Whuh—”

“You and Daddy have to go check!” Eden insisted.

Paul tossed his head and he locked eyes with his father, his face now full of determination. Secondo watched his son struggle not to break character. “You're right. We need to make sure,” Paul announced in a hushed tone. Eden and little Sam hugged each other excitedly.

Secondo finally got the momentum to pull himself upright and onto his crutch. “You're the fastest of all of us,” Secondo told his oldest son. “You have to lead the mission this year. Good luck.”

“You can't let him see you,” Eden reminded him while Sam bobbed his head vigorously in agreement. “Not for even one second.”

“Godspeed,” muttered Sandra.

The four adventurers organized themselves at the end of the hallway. Down the hall was the living room, now slowly becoming awash with reddish light from the large curtained windows. “Go on, Paul,” whispered Secondo.

Paul nodded and crept down the hallway, dramatically stopping every few feet to look back at his younger siblings. Eden, the mission commander, glared as she observed his task.

At a pace that seemed like forever to the children under eight years old, Paul finally reached the end of the hall, peeking around the corner. He turned and tossed his hand at Secondo. “Now you,” ordered Eden in a whisper.

The old magician nodded solemnly and walked with as much authority and dark majesty as he could in pajamas. He met up with Paul at the end of the hall, craning his neck to observe the living room as cautiously as he could. He gave the younger children a satisfied nod. His mouth was a thin, firm line, his whitened eye gleaming in the dim light.

“All clear. Santa’s gone. And he left presents for you.”

----

My Fic List | My AO3

Fun fact, my dad would do this to us every Christmas Morning. And when he moved out, as the oldest sibling it was up to me to check. I don't know if you know this but apparently if Santa is down there by your tree and sees you EVEN FOR ONE SECOND, he vanishes and takes all your presents. (This fact had no bearing whatsoever on me, obviously.)

#ghost fandom #the band ghost #ao3 author #ghost scenes from the void #domestic december #domestic fluff #dad secondo #papa emeritus ii #secondo & family #ghost band headcanons

46 notes · View notes

spicysix · 1 year ago

Text

anywhere u go

Argyle had no idea the living nightmare he was getting himself into when he first decided to follow Jonathan Byers. Well, he'd do it again in a heartbeat anyway.

rating: T

warnings: this fic includes weed, the teeniest hint of ptsd, questionable informations about the united states' AND the canadian's geography from a brazilian writer (so, probably, mistakes. look past them pls), also questionable english by a brazilian writer not beta-read, weather as a metaphor, and subtle pining.

word count: 5.6k

author's note: title from the song of the same name by Tove Lo. written for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanwork Challenge, for the dialogue prompt “I’m really glad we did this”. thanks for hosting this amazing event @thefreakandthehair ♡

↳ read on ao3

If someone asked him, Argyle wasn’t sure he’d be able to retell the whole thing.

And, sure, maybe you could blame the weed a little bit. He might have partaken in it a few times here or there during the whole thing. It was right there in the van! How could he say no? Not at any of the big moments, though, of course not. He’s a stoner, not an idiot. He only smoked twice on the road when Jonathan was the one driving, that hotbox he did with Eden, beautiful goth goddess of his dreams, and once to prepare the pizza during the whole freezer piggyback thing (he likes being high when working in the kitchen okay, don’t go away judging). When they got to Hawkins, he only collected mushrooms, didn’t do them. He didn’t even have the time.

It wasn’t any kind of substance that made the next few weeks go by hazily.

It was just too much.

Chaos was installed when they arrived in Hawkins. Earthquakes had ripped open wounds into the soil of the small town — living, squeamish, bleeding wounds. Argyle learned later they were portals to the dimension under their own, where all the problems surrounding his friend’s family came from in the first place.

People were missing and hurt, some even died with the way the gates tore through houses and buildings, and the mood around Hawkins as they drove through it was rightfully sour.

Jonathan drove to his girlfriend’s house, some other people were already there and it was a beautiful reunion, it really was, but Argyle felt out of place. They parted ways after, and the ones that had been there already headed to the High School to drop some donations — except for Nancy, who went inside the van and into the passenger seat as if she owned it.

It had been Argyle’s.

But it was okay, he stayed in the back with the kiddos.

They went to the hospital, one of them — the one Supergirl had mentally piggybacked on — was hurt and in a coma. Argyle waited in the van as the rest of them went in to see her — he didn’t know her, didn’t want to invade their space.

After the visit they headed to an old cabin in the woods, abandoned, destroyed, pieces of its ceiling missing. Jonathan said Supergirl used to live there with her dad, the dead cop, and while they all reconnected and cleaned up the place, Argyle found those mushrooms that he didn’t use.

Didn’t even have the time to, because suddenly it was snowing ashes and he found his friend and his friend’s family — including his mom and a tall skinny bald guy, where did they come from? — looking over the city from the hill and the open field, and the flowers were dead and there was smoke coming from the place where all the portals met downtown.

Too much happening at the same time, and suddenly Jonathan was grabbing Argyle’s wrist and pulling him back to the van, “let’s go get the others, oh and by the way the tall skinny bald guy is the dead cop, oh and by the way my mom went to the Soviet Union to rescue him, oh and by the way the world is ending.”

So they went back to the hospital, to warn the siblings that were keeping watch over the comatose redhead, but they didn’t wanna join them back. Told Jonathan to reach through the walkies if he needed them.

So they went to the school, found the pretty guy and the cute girl that looked and acted like siblings plus the small curly one, pretty guy told them all they could go to his house cause it was big and clean and empty and they could use it as headquarters. Nancy shivered at the suggestion, her jaw tensed and Jonathan looked at her with caution, but they all agreed anyway.

So they went to pretty guy’s house, it really was big and clean and empty — all sadly so. The ones coming from California took their much needed showers, un-dead cop called a friend of his and told him to come meet them, the kids reached out to the siblings in the hospital to let them know where they all were.

It was too much.

Argyle set the water of his shower to the coldest temperature he could bare to try and shock some sense into himself. Looked at his reflection in the mirror and if it wasn’t him, he wouldn’t know all the shit that guy went through that last week. Government agents dying in his work van that he ended up stealing, a superpowered girl he helped rescue, an evil dimension with an evil wizard, people in comas and people coming back from the dead, gates to the underworld burning through a small town — and how he got roped into all of that by following a friend across the country.

He’d say he was a pretty good friend at that point.

He waited in the living room with the others as everyone went through rotations of showers, and cute girl made him a sandwich and it was nice of her, Little Byers sat by his side cause he was one of the only people who knew Argyle, and it was nice of him. When Jonathan arrived all cleaned up and smelling soapy, he sat by Argyle’s other side and Argyle felt himself relax if only a little.

They waited until un-dead cop’s friend showed up, and for some reason he showed up with two other Russian guys and a government lady and oh boy was Argyle even more confused.

Everyone took their turns retelling their own stories and gluing all the pieces together, and it was a somber story, it was bad as a horror movie and Argyle kind of wanted to throw himself out the window and get in the first bus back to California but he had no one there and in here he at least had the Byers. They were a good family, the closest to one Argyle had. So he stuck around through the puzzle.

Once in a while they referenced something that had happened in the years before and Argyle didn’t get the references because he hadn’t been there but he was sure Jonathan could fill him in later. Or he wouldn’t, and Argyle wouldn’t mind that either because it would at least save him from nightmares.

There had been losses, some friend of theirs in Hawkins — small curly one seemed to be the most affected by it, and Supergirl’s boyfriend was also really upset when he learned the news. Besides him, other three teenagers were victims of the evil wizard, plus their friend who survived but was in a coma.

On their side, a doctor dead and a doctor missing — apparently captured by the side of the government that was trying to kill Supergirl, that government lady said. Not her side trying to kill Supergirl. Another side. But apparently the doctors could help and it was relevant to know about their situation. The parents didn’t seem to agree a lot, and neither did Supergirl.

Un-dead cop’s friend made a joke about how at least on their side only bad commies had died, but the joke didn’t land. They weren’t in a nice mood for jokes.

It was too much, everyone talking about terrible things happening and talking over each other and Argyle’s head was about to explode in pain so at some point when they were all going through the timeline for the third time, he escaped and headed outside through the front door.

Jonathan found him after a couple of minutes.

“Is this too much?” he asked, and Argyle nodded. “I’m sorry. Wish we could smoke right now,” he said.

Argyle hummed, “It’s gonna look real unprofessional of us if we do, though, right?”

“It really will.” Jonathan chuckled, but it was dry and humorless.

They just stood there in silence for a few minutes, and Argyle’s fingers were trembling a little and maybe it was abstinence, probably was, but the clouds were fucking red and the smoke still made ashes rain down and it was terrifying.

“We should go inside,” Jonathan said after a while.

Argyle sighed and followed him in.

Over the next week they all hung out almost exclusively in pretty boy’s house (pretty boy’s name was Steve, Argyle learned. He dated Nancy before Jonathan did. They had a weird thing going on) and planned for the next step they’d take into, hopefully for the last time, saving the world. Well, it was Argyle’s first, but it still counted right. The kids called their parents and they all seemed to trust the old teens to be good babysitters even during the apocalypse, plus Ms. Byers and the un-dead cop were of course to be trusted.

Argyle was mostly tuned out of everything, but that was okay, firstly because he was the last one to join the mess and didn’t know the details as well as the rest of them, and it wasn’t a good use of their time to explain it to Argyle time and time again when they could be plotting strategies. So Argyle took over pretty boy Steve’s kitchen and kept his battalion fed and strong for battle.

The other reason he kept tuned out was, of course, so he wouldn’t freak the fuck out.

Keeping himself entertained with cooking — and, not going to lie, a little weed here and there when they found it — was the only thing still keeping him from that original plan of throwing himself out the window and catching the first bus back to California.

Sometimes the rest of the Party — as they called themselves, what a weird bunch — would help or at least keep him company. Un-dead cop’s friend (un-dead cop was Hopper, friend was Murray) was a great cook as Argyle already knew from that risotto, but he was also really weird and gave Argyle the creeps. Ms. Byers kept telling him to call her Joyce, tried her best in the kitchen and her food wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t good. He liked talking to her, though. Cute girl — pretty boy Steve’s platonic soulmate, Robin — was real funny and a delight to talk to, but a fire hazard personified and not allowed near the stove. Steve could bake some mean breakfast and he was also really cool, Argyle didn’t know why Jonathan was so adamant about keeping a grudge.

“You’d like Eddie, he was a dealer,” Steve said one night as they sat in the backyard staring at the pool and smoking what was left of Argyle’s purple palm tree delight. “And he for sure would like you, and this.” Steve waved the joint around before handing it back to Argyle. Steve’s smile was sad, and Argyle hadn’t known the guy so he didn’t know how to feel or what to say. So they just kept smoking.

Nancy was how Argyle found out about the whole story between her, Jonathan and Steve — and Argyle understood partly why Jonathan held a grudge. Steve was a nice guy now though, Nancy said and Argyle knew it was true because they talked and smoked a lot late at nights, but it wasn’t his place to tell Jonathan how to feel about his girlfriend’s ex who called him slurs, physically fought him and then saved his life more than once. It was a tough spot, alright.

The kids were something else. He barely saw the siblings — Lucas Erica, the ones at comatose redhead’s, Max, bedside. They were, all three of them, constantly brought up, though, and it almost made it seem like they were there all the time. The small curly one, Dustin, seemed to think he was touched by god’s wisdom at all times, and it could be funny but it could also be a little annoying. He was pretty Steve’s favorite, though. That was interesting. Little Byers (Will) and Mike — Supergirl’s now ex-boyfriend — had something going on but Argyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what. Jonathan went grumpy anytime they were together, and his older brother protective act was amusing.

Supergirl — Jane, El — was Argyle’s favorite though, and there was no competition there. She was weird and tiny and badass and adorable and a huge menace, not only in the way that she could literally blow things up with her mind, but because she could be a little troublemaker kid in the best way a kid should be a troublemaker in. She was sweet and delicate and just so fucking little, and her shoulders were too tiny to hold all the weight they carried, so Argyle did his best to bake her the frozen waffles she loved, told her funny exaggerated stories so she’d laugh, gave her tight hugs whenever she needed them. It was sad that she needed them a lot. But she always thanked him and told him his hugs were the best hugs ever, so he’d hug her once again before letting her go. He liked that she smiled a lot near him. The world owed her more smiles, and he was glad to take that task.

Jonathan did his best to make Argyle feel like he was part of it all. Argyle wasn’t so sure if he even wanted to be a part of it all in the first place, but since he was dragged to it without any other option, he was glad he at least had Jonathan by his side. He chose to pair up with Argyle when they were assigned guest bedrooms in Steve’s big house so Argyle wouldn’t be alone, even if he could be with Nancy. He never scolded Argyle for smoking because he knew Argyle did it to cope, to calm down, to get less stressed and anxious — and he knew the situation was stressing and anxiety-inducing as hell. He never complained if Argyle didn’t participate in their planning sessions because he knew Argyle’s lack of previous knowledge would probably just slow them down, and once during the night he said he’d do anything to leave Argyle as out of it as he could, that he felt guilty for bringing Argyle into all of it in the first place.

Argyle blamed him, it really was kind of Jonathan’s fault, but he also forgave him.

He forgave him the second after it all happened.

He would probably follow Jonathan anyway even if he knew beforehand where he was headed to.

He followed Jonathan into the final battle against that slimy, evil, twisted, disgusting son of a bitch. He followed Jonathan with homemade armor and homemade weapons, and a courage he didn’t really have. He followed Jonathan, El, Will, and Joyce — and all the rest of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family. He was stuck with them now forever, he knew it. He wasn’t complaining. They were his family now, too.

But that specific day, that was the one that was the most blurred out. Maybe it was a coping mechanism that his fucked up brain came up with to give him a rest, or maybe it was his brain too fucked up from all the weed usage, but he was glad either way. If someone asked him, Argyle was sure he wouldn’t be able to retell the whole thing.

It was way too much. He was glad he didn’t remember.

They were all alive and sore and bruised and hurt after it, and they all still stayed in Steve’s big house — to make sure they were all together if it wasn’t really over, and because they healed better as a pack. The government lady had found her lost doctor sometime in the middle of it all, and the whole Party got some good deals out of everything. Argyle wasn’t even going to be sued by Surfer Boy Pizza for stealing a company van. He actually got to keep it, and he took out the surfboard from the roof, took out all the company stickers, cleaned it up real good and it ended up looking like a regular beautiful yellow van where no man had ever died inside.

El seemed to have lost her powers for good this time, but she was relieved. Will was never haunted by the creepy chills in the back of his neck again. Max woke up, and she was blind and would probably never walk again, but she was so grateful. Argyle cooked her favorite food — information provided by El — when she was released from the hospital, and of course she was led straight to Steve’s house. She didn’t know Argyle before the apocalypse almost took her away, but she thanked him with a beautiful crooked smile of a girl who defeated death, and everyone surrounded her with love and warmth and everything was almost perfect. They were acting like the kids they were. They were allowed to, now. The only thing they’d have to worry about from now on was school and homework, the occasional regular teenage problems. No more evil scientists, no more evil wizards, no more evil dimensions. Just, a bad grade in Latin, or having an unrequited crush, a pimple in the middle of their foreheads. Argyle was so happy for them.

Jonathan and the rest of the older ones also got to go back to normal. Steve and Robin’s only worry was finding a new job. Nancy and Jonathan finally talked it out and resolved their issues — by breaking up. Nancy would go to Emerson, Boston, as she wished, and Jonathan didn’t want to and it was fine. They had grown too much, apart from each other in the few months they were away. They didn’t need to be each other’s grounding points anymore, because they could find other people and find themselves and worry about regular young adult stuff like a bad grade in Journalism 101 or the fact they were out of weed or photographic film.

Jonathan wanted to go to New York.

Argyle could get on the first bus back to California, but he had no one there and that was okay, because here he had Jonathan. Jonathan, who Argyle crossed the country for, who Argyle walked into Hell for, who Argyle would probably follow anywhere.

So Jonathan decided to go to New York, and Argyle decided to follow him.

They took the renewed regular yellow van where no man had ever died, belts buckled in for the first time ever because they valued their lives a whole lot now. They took an atlas from Robin’s collection, a few pre-rolled joints Steve bought from god knows who, a bunch of snacks the kids gathered for them, clothes they borrowed because they ran away from California with no bags, and a tight hug from each and every one of their weird, codependent, brought together by disasters, wrecked and beautiful found family.

They took the I-69 to Indy, the I-70 to Pittsburgh, the I-76 to Philadelphia, and the I-95 to New York. Twenty hours on the road was nothing considering it took them three days to get from middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Nevada) to middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere (Indiana). They took turns driving, stopped for gas and lunch and dinner and a smoke session, slept in the back of the van in a parking lot until they weren’t high anymore, arrived in New York as the sky was pouring down on the city.

“The rain is nice,” Jonathan commented as he looked through the window in the passenger seat.

It hadn’t rained in Hawkins ever since the world almost ended. No matter how many times they showered, bathed, scrubbed all the grime and dirt and blood away, sometimes it still felt like they weren’t clean. The town was definitely still dirty.

“The rain is nice,” Argyle agreed.

They kept driving around, they got trapped in traffic, they got screamed and horned at, they laughed back because it felt nonsensical to be mad about cars in streets. They stopped at a diner, ate a bunch of eggs sunny side up, to counter the weather, watched the regulars and the waitresses and the cook in their routines, and they smiled at each other because it was so nice to see normal things for once. People living their normal lives. Not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids in the corner booth almost died so they could be spilling coffee on the counter and getting their mouths dirty with grease.

They asked for a cheap recommendation on a place they could rest, drove a little more, got a little more trapped in traffic, got a little more yelled and horned at, until they found the shitty motel that the waitress promised was decently cleaned no matter how fucked up it looked on the outside. But their expectations bar wasn’t high, anyway. They had two beds, separated by a tiny nightstand table, and they fell asleep turned to face each other, curtains open and bathroom lights on because the darkness couldn’t be trusted.

Next day emerged with the clouds all gone, the weirdest of contrasts, and a chilly wind kept throwing Argyle’s hair to all sides and Jonathan kept looking at him with a soft smile whenever it whipped his pale skin. They left the van in the motel and walked and walked and walked until their feet hurt, had no idea where they were going and no exact place to go to, a joint shared and their fingers touched and their mouths wrapped around the same paper. It was nothing, and it was everything.

They watched people passing by, everyone in such a hurry, people scowling and people smiling and people somehow with their expressions completely neutral. People living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware that the two weird kids walking shoulder to shoulder almost died so they could be running to catch the subway or signing for a cab to stop.

They managed to get back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, turned to face each other, curtains open, bathroom lights left on.

Jonathan wanted to go to NYU.

Ever since he was six years old, he told Argyle. The Tisch Photography program was a big one, his dream ever since he had a bowl cut worst than Will’s, when his father was still home and his mom wasn’t overprotective because none of them knew monsters existed just under their feet.

Jonathan’s eyes gleamed as he spoke about the university, so Argyle offered and Jonathan agreed, and the next day Jonathan hopped on a subway train and Argyle followed him.

The subway was too much, Argyle noticed. He shared a look with Jonathan over someone else’s shoulder and knew they were thinking the same.

They went south south south to Greenwich Village with its pretty brownstones and its artsy students roaming around, so many of them, and Jonathan stopped across the street looking at the Tisch building for a long time, inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk, his fellow hipsters having to walk around him. Argyle looked at Jonathan the whole time, saw it firsthand as his gears turned, as the gleam in his eyes faded, as the wrinkle in his forehead deepened.

“Too much?” he asked.

Jonathan nodded. “For now, at least.”

Argyle just started walking and Jonathan followed, and they just walked across Greenwich Village until they were at the pier and they looked at New Jersey from afar, all the ferries crossing the Hudson, people still in a hurry all the goddamn time and Argyle’s fingers tapped against the railing that was there to stop him from falling into the water. He kinda wanted to do it just to see what it would feel like. He lost track of time staring at the water, and the boats, and the people on the boats living their normal lives, not a single one of them aware of the two weird kids on the pier that almost died so they could cross the river on a daily basis; and he felt Jonathan staring at him and maybe it should’ve been the other way around.

“Wanna try again?” he asked after, maybe, hours, and Jonathan nodded.

They walked back, Jonathan stopped inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk across the street, stared at the Tisch building for what wasn’t longer than a minute and a half.

“Too much,” he decided.

They took the subway back north north north to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed and still felt unclean, collapsed on their separate beds again, curtains open, bathroom lights left on. Jonathan turned away and slept looking at the wall. Argyle slept looking at Jonathan’s back.

Sun was still out bright the next day.

They went out silently for breakfast at a café a few blocks down, heard the weirdest fucking story told by the people sitting at the table next to them. One look at each other and they were back at the motel, into the van, across the bridge, east east east into Long Island and clouds started to appear the more further east they went.

Montauk sure had that creepy energy hanging in the air, as if everyone was constantly waiting for the shoe to drop, but it somehow didn’t feel as world-ending as Hawkins did. Jonathan whispered that if Will was there, he’d probably be scratching his neck by now. They kept heading east, into the State Park, to the lookout, out of the van. Stared at the ocean. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contained, and it should’ve been too much but Argyle let out a long sigh and breathed in deeply, a single drop of rain touched his forehead and it felt good.

They went back to the van, back to Manhattan, back to the motel, took their showers, scrubbed a little less, collapsed on their separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom lights left on, turned to face each other again. They said nothing. There was a constant hum from somewhere outside the motel, in the neighborhood, that lulled them to sleep. Argyle thought he heard Jonathan call for him but when he opened his eyes again Jonathan was snoring lightly. Argyle smiled at the view and fell back to unconsciousness.

Clouds were back the next day.

They checked out of the motel, Jonathan took the seat behind the wheel, headed back to I-95 again and hit the pedal hard. They drove for about half the time as they did from Hawkins to New York, never leaving the I-95, looking through the windows as they drove past New Haven, Providence, Boston, plus some stupidly small and completely forgettable towns in Maine.

They only left the I-95 when they passed the border, when the Highway didn’t exist anymore.

“Will they know we have weed?” Argyle asked as they were growing closer to the customs. They only had a single joint left, but it was worrying anyway.

“Don’t think they’ll check,” Jonathan answered, and he didn’t seem bothered at all.

Argyle doubted they would be able to cross, he didn’t even have a passport, but Jonathan was thankfully right. The guard asked for their drivers’ licenses only, where they were headed and what they were doing — Jonathan said they were on a roadtrip. When the guard asked how long they were planning on staying, Jonathan said “enough days to see a bit of the three east provinces”, and that’s when Argyle was sure the guard would tell them to turn around and get the fuck out, back to bumfuck-nowhere, Indiana. But he just nodded as he inspected the photos on their documents, and when he handed them back along with a pocket-sized canadian atlas he said: “Have fun.”

And that was it.

Argyle’s shoulders dropped from where they had situated above his ears as Jonathan waited until the customs couldn’t be seen from the windows anymore so he could hit the pedal hard again, this time on what they called the Trans-Canada Highway (information provided by the pocket-size atlas gifted to them by a random and kind government employee).

Jonathan drove for about an hour and a half after they crossed, and Argyle’s sudden drop of adrenaline made him doze off for a while before he woke up as Jonathan was parking at a motel. He looked around, saw some signs, picked up the pocket-size atlas from where it had fallen off to the floor of the van.

“You wanna stay in…” he checked the atlas, “Fredericton, New Brunswick? This was your destination all along?” he asked with a grin.

Jonathan chuckled. “I’m just tired for today. But I wanna keep going, actually. If that’s okay?” his eyes were suddenly filled with doubt, and oh no, Argyle couldn’t have that.

“Absolutely, my man. Point where and I’m headed right behind ‘ya,” he was smiling, and his tone was light-hearted, but he was being the most honest he ever was.

Jonathan seemed to get it, because he was looking back at him with that reserved soft smile of his and Argyle’s brain went a little fuzzy, but it was probably from the nap he took.

They went inside the motel, finally, got their bedroom with two beds, separated by nothing but a few inches, and Argyle’s first instinct was to actually bring them together so they’d be just one big bed, but he restrained. They took showers, didn’t really scrub a lot, collapsed on their barely separate beds, curtains closed, bathroom light left off, turned to face each other. Argyle fell asleep with a smile on his face, and if he didn’t dream it, Jonathan had one of his own on his lips.

Next day was more than cloudy, it was pouring rain again.

Jonathan sat behind the steering wheel once more, hit the pedal and they headed east east east, so far east that Argyle feared for a second that they were going to reach the border of the world or something. They crossed New Brunswick and almost reached Nova Scotia, but then Jonathan took a sharp turn north.

“An island, man?” Argyle asked as they crossed the bridge to Prince Edward. Jonathan just shrugged, but he was smiling wider than Argyle had ever seen him smile before. Not bothered at all. It was a good sight to see.

The capital city was on the southeast, but Jonathan kept going north again. It seemed like they were almost at the end of the island before he finally stopped, at some stupidly small and completely forgettable town.

“This place has probably half of the citizens of Hawkins,” Argyle noted.

“I need a phone,” Jonathan said.

His smile didn’t falter.

They found the single Bed & Breakfast the town had to offer, asked for a bedroom — it only had one bed, they didn’t mind and neither did the young lady in charge —, they asked to use their phone, “How much is a phone call to Indiana, you think?” Jonathan asked Argyle, smile turning into a wicked grin and Argyle had definitely never seen that, so the only answer he could come up with was a loud laugh.

Jonathan dialed.

Argyle saw the lady had a bong on her table, so he lit up their final joint.

They waited for the phone to be answered.

Jonathan’s eyes never left Argyle’s, and their wide smiles were like mirrors of each other. Argyle had no idea what Jonathan was up to, clearly no good, but Argyle was down to it anyway. He’d follow Jonathan in whatever disturbed plan he had, to whatever edge of the world he wanted to go to.

And, finally:

“Hop, hey, it’s Jon. I’m in Canada. Yeah, you heard it right, Canada. Do you think Owens’ FBI friends can do us a final favor?”

⟿

Argyle looks out the window.

In the reflex, he sees Jonathan, his head on Argyle’s shoulder, and he’s also looking out the window. It’s been like this for a few months now, just the two of them, in tandem, doing the same things. Synchronized. It feels good, the best he ever felt. Jonathan’s skin is warm against Argyle where their arms touch, and he smiles without even thinking about it. It’s been like this for a few months now, smiling around just at the thought or sight of Jonathan. It feels good. The best he ever felt about someone.

“I’m really glad we did this,” Jonathan mumbles against Argyle’s shoulder.

This: a trip along the coast to a different country? This: bribing the government for a new beginning in a town so small and forgettable that no monster, human or not, could find them again? This: getting a house of their own, a fucking boat and a fishing license, a truck they could drive down to Charlottetown on good days?

This: falling in love in the process?

Argyle’s not sure what Jonathan is referring to. He’s really glad too, either way.

Argyle looks at their small world out the window.

It’s Sunday morning, commerce is all closed, streets are empty. The sun is covered by clouds, a summer thunderstorm approaching, and he can see the sea from here. There’s no one at the beach. The waves look nice. All that amount of water, the vast nothingness of the view and the wide greatness it contains.

It’s not too much. It’s nothing at all, actually, and it’s everything.

And it’s perfect that way.

#jargyle #jonathan byers x argyle #jargyle fanfic #jargyle fic #jargyle oneshot #argyle x jonathan byers #jonathan byers #argyle #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #lui writes #lexssummerfanworkschallenge #should've posted this tomorrow on jargyle jursday but oh well. what's done is done

62 notes · View notes

eupheme · 2 months ago

Note

I am in AWE at From Eden! I read it just before going to bed and I can't stop thinking about it!!! I just rewatched Logan as well and god your writing is so vivid and works with the story perfectly. Your prose is so gorgeous, I don't even have the proper words to describe it!!! I am SO enamored by not only the Druid!reader you created but the way you wrote her and Logan's relationship. Every line and interaction had the weight of their past in it, bittersweet because we know the ending but so full and heavy with love, devotion, familiarity. The guilt he feels for bringing her away from fertile land, but her not having it any other way. "When I used to imagine playing house with you"!!!!!! 😭😭

I almost died reading that a whole garden bloomed the first night they were together, and "everyone knew you were in love"!!! And Logan helping pick the flowers when they bloomed during stolen moments on missions. The fact that he knows the names of the blossoms, when they bloomed at the end!!! That when they met he was already grey at the temples (yessss).

And oh my god, the smut was so TENDER and so stunningly written like again I'm just in AWE. Being intimate while she tends to his wounds, I-- I'm speechless. And "I keep going for you"!!!!! 😭😭😭

I could babble on and on and on, it was such a gorgeous fic and one of your best. One of my favorites of all time.

I am so happy with what you've written!!! However I wanted to share that, if you were interested in taking a request or writing more for these two-- like writing how they met, that first night together, a drabble of one of those moments during a mission-- I would be more than enthusiastic to read!! Thank you thank you THANK YOU for this fic!! 🥰🥰🥰

anon I keep coming back to read this, this was so incredible to see and I feel so so lucky to have recieved something as kind as this 💖

I loved druid!reader - I love characters with those sorts of powers and it felt like such an interesting one to pair with the Logan universe (like as something that would aid them, but come at a price like everything does in that movie) and she’s so dear to me so I am over the moon that you liked her.

And I loved seeing which parts you liked, the hints of how much they loved before (and they still do now, and are just so aware of how things have changed) (and the grey temples yesss! I was imagining him at the beginning of dopf vibes haha). It means so much that you think it’s one of my best because it felt really special to write and I am glad I got the chance to explore their story!

And I will have to think about that for sure!! A little flashback where he’s smug and teasing would be so sweet! Thank you times a million for your kind words, each time I go back to read it I get so emotional!! 🥺💖 hoping you have such a good weekend!

#I am 🥺💖💖💖!!!!#anons #eupheme answers #to keep and cherish

8 notes · View notes

a-witch-in-endor · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, just wanted to drop by to say that you’re an incredible writer, and While Mighty Oaks Do Fall is my favourite fic of all time! Thank you so much for creating it and sharing it with us <3 And I was also just wondering - you drew on Florence and the Machine for where the stars do not take sides, specifically ‘100 Years’, so was While Mighty Oaks inspired by ‘Which Witch’ at all? I always think of it when I listen to that song!

Thank you! You know what, it wasn't on the playlist, but now that you've mentioned it... it definitely should go on my MO playlist!

Florence and the Machine: 'Which Witch'

And it's my whole heart Weighed and measured inside And it's an old scar Trying to bleach it out And it's my whole heart Deemed and delivered a crime I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

Who's a heretic now?

I'm not beat up by this yet You can't tell me to regret Been in the dark since the day we met Fire, help me to forget

Chained and shackled, oh All that gravel, oh It's a pity, oh Never to return But I never learn It's a pity, oh

...

And some of the extracts I've previously posted for writing While Mighty Oaks Do Fall:

NEEDTOBREATHE: ‘Testify’

Come to the fountain, and Let me hear you testify

Leonard Cohen: ‘Hallelujah’

And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand right here before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Leonard Cohen: ‘Anthem’:

I can’t run no more With that lawless crowd While the killers in high places say their prayers out loud But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up a thundercloud They’re going to hear from me

Regina Spektor: ‘Après Moi’

I must go on standing You can’t break that which isn’t yours I must go on standing I’m not my own, it’s not my choice

Sara Bareilles: ‘Eden’

Walking in the garden was a serpent-shaped heart and he told me What is broken cannot show, And less than beautiful is worse than unholy

Idolized my innocence Stole it from me in the end Now I’m wide awakened and still paying for the poison they sold me

Sara Bareilles: ‘Saint Honesty’

We’re collecting evidence Of one remarkable storm How wild it was to find it, finally feel the climate Instead of only staying dry and warm

Rain on us, Saint Honesty Salvation is coming in the morning But now, what we need Is a little rain on our face from you, sweet Saint Honesty

Billy Joel: ‘Only the Good Die Young’

Well they showed you a statue Told you to pray Built you a temple and locked you away But they never told you The price that you’d pay For things that you might have done

#while mighty oaks do fall #mighty oaks playlist #fire sage zuko

55 notes · View notes

dogearedheart · 7 months ago

Text

guys is it weird to call a guy you never even met after your girlfriend broke up with you?

#yes this is about my stanford fic #it's all about finding comfort in a person you never met #because it feels like you've known them your whole life #and you're in your twenties and you're spending most of your days alone #and you want to form connections but your hunting buddy couldn't handle your life and neither could your girlfriend #but there is this guy who listens to you and doesn't think you're crazy and he has a kind voice and you wonder if he looks just like you #imagine him and he hosts a music show on the radio even tho he doesn't know shit about music #and he tells you stories so fantastic and strange and he is way too serious sometimes but when he laughs you wonder what it would be like #to see him smile. to see his eyes narrow with an expression of joy on his face. and you wonder if his lips are as soft and as sweet as his #voice sounds #and suddenly you wonder what happened to you in the last few month since you first talked to this guy. maybe there is something wrong #with you because when you lay down on the backseat of your car. covered by a leather jacket that is way too big for you....#yeah that's when you start to think 'what did this bastard do to me.'#we met at the end of eden fic #txt.

3 notes · View notes

aceofsweets · 2 years ago

Text

Keep Smiling! [ 🔑 ]

Oh my god, im writing!!!!! omg!!!! anyways first Project: Eden's Garden fic on the blog, rejoice brothers! this fic is dedicated to Wolfgang Akire and angst! wonderful thing to greet yall with!, jokes aside please take caution when reading the fic because i forgot how to write

Cw: Mentions of Murder, Project: Eden's Garden Prologue Spoilers, Character Death (specifically Reader Death), Slight Gore. [ IF CONTENT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, EXIT THE FIC. ]

Pairing: Wolfgang Akire x Reader. Genre: Angst. Note: Reader has no specified gender, Reader is the Ultimate Merchant, Reader replaces a specific character, Wolfgang might be OOC and Reader uses S/O in the fic.

[ NONE OF THIS IS PROOFREAD BTW. ]

Maybe he shouldn't have accepted the letter sent by Eden's Garden Academy.

Accepting it only made his life more...difficult.

Painful, even.

. . . . .

"Hey hey Wolfgang! Wolfgang look at what I found for you!" ah, your voice, your voice made his heart run a marathon but at least it's in a good way. He smiled back at you. "Ah, [S/O], good to see you!"

You ran up to the Ultimate Laywer to show him what you got for him "look at what I got~" it was those magnet necklaces that are usually worn by couples or friends, the thought of sharing a matching necklace with you made his heart skip a beat.

"W....Where exactly did you get this from?" "Uh the internet obviously." he tried to keep his composure, but to be completely honest, you were the Ultimate Merchant, it was to be expected you'd find something from importers and others.

"So?" he looked at you in confusion "so....what?" he asked "are you gonna wear it or not?" you said, pouting somewhat. "a-ah! my apologies [S/O]." he apologized while smiling awkwardly, you could've sworn there was a sweat drop coming from his face. "Wolfie, don't apologize! jeez you take things too seriously." you giggle, his face turns into an embarrassing obvious shade of red "awwww!~ you're so cute when you're flustered Wolfie!~" you teased, both the nickname and extensive teasing from you made him blush even more, but he'll let that slide, for now he'll just enjoy your presence.

For now that is.

. . . . .

In present times, it's much different, having accepted the letter from Eden's Garden Academy only brought him into a new life, a new life that'll be absolute hell.

Your warmth was no longer with him, mainly due to the fact you didn't get an acceptance letter which relieved him, but it doesn't change the fact hes alone.

Having to wake up in what seems to be a dining hall and kitchen was the second weirdest thing aside from being knocked out by some gas on the train. He was thinking, nothing is audible in that mind until...

THUD!

That scared him really bad and it showed. "Oi! soybean are ya gonna say something or gawk in fear all day?!"

Okay, this woman was really, really loud. "Ah...forgive me for staring, I was...startled you could say." he said while having to force a slight chuckle at the end of the sentence.

"Yeah yeah...ya gotta be lucky I ain't gonna punch you or something!" the woman with the visor said "mhm...." he said while having a worried look on his face, was this really someone attending a prestigious academy? Tick....Tick....Tick

It's quiet, but aside from that. Minutes went by and he got the name of the loud woman with a visor, Grace Madison. The Ultimate Golfer. He was baffled by how young she looked but he can't really say anything when he himself is 22 and is known for being the Ultimate Lawyer at such a young age.

Later on, he met a blonde male with emerald eyes, a raven-haired female with blue eyes, and finally, a young child who claims to be the Ultimate Matchmaker. What a peculiar group.

As more time went on, he met more people ranging from different ages, at most 14-20, they all went outside as a group, to introduce themselves at least.

Toshiko Kayura, the young Ultimate Matchmaker decided to introduce the Ultimate Lawyer. "Ahem, Along with Grace Madison, we have the mighty and prestigious Wolfgang Akire!-" "-Hes well known as the Ultimate Lawyer."

Wolfgang smiled at the young girl's apparent enthusiasm when introducing him "...Yes, that's correct."

Suddenly, a crimson haired female spoke up and said "oh, hey hey lawyer man." the new nickname made him a tad bit confused "l-laywer man? Is that your name for me?" he asked.

"Yup! It's either that or Wolfie. Do you like Wolfie more?" the girl said, suddenly, his confusion washed away, rather, a new expression came on his face, something unreadable, as if he was contemplating something. "Wolfie..." it was the same nickname you gave him, the moment he starts thinking about you, is the moment he feels a tad bit hurt. He misses you so much.

"Ya good?" Grace asked "Of course!... just stay with what you already have." he said, but the more he thought of the nickname, the more he thought of you, were you doing okay? were you safe? were you fine without him by your side? so many questions flooded his mind as introductions went on until...

Ding Dong, Bing Bong.

The speaker turned on!

"Testing. Testing. One two three..." a rather mysterious yet sophisticated voice spoke. "Can everyone hear me?" asked the voice, yet nobody responded. "Yes? Great!" Wolfgang was confused yet suspicious of the voice speaking, a loud ahem is heard. "Good morning my amicable student friends! First off, allow me to apologize. I realize the ride here was a bumpy one, especially for Ultimates such as yourselves...But expect things to be different within these halls!" the voice said. "Yes, it is my pleasure and privilege to welcome you all to Eden's Garden Academy. May this be the beginning of a wondrous journey!"

The crimson haired girl or rather, Cassidy said "did he just say...we're at Eden's Garden Academy?" Damon proceeded to say: "No...We can't be." Jett proceeded to say something but it was somewhat cut off by Wenona saying, "Stop talking so loud, I want to hear this."

Shortly after that, the voice continued. "I'm sure you're on the edge of your seats waiting for a proper orientation, but there's one more thing to do before we can meet face to face! It won't take very long. All I ask is that you enter the building across from me. From there, we can begin preparations for a formal introduction. Until then, farewell!"

...Click!

...

Well, that was...interesting.

Commotion started spreading around the courtyard. After a short bit of chattering and deciding what to do, everyone stood in front of the entrance, nobody willing to enter first.

Eventually, Damon mustered up the willpower to open the entrance and...

... No. ... You were there...but... ...

No. ... It was too much....

No, Stop It. ...

The sight was horrid, you were laying there, battered and bloody. Your clothes were wrinkled and soaked with dried, pink, blood. What laid next to you were was a knife with flecks of dried up blood, and a gun.

...

"AHHH!" Toshiko's blood curdling scream echoed through the hallway. "EEEEEEK!?" Eloise's panicked cry followed soon after. In a flash, everyone started panicking.

But Wolfgang...he was...pained.

He couldn't move a single muscle

He couldn't breathe.

And for a moment...

A tear rolls down his cheek.

He tried to stop them but he couldn't.

The tears kept flowing.

If that wasn't enough, his body moved on it's own.

He ran to your bloodied body.

"[S/O]..." he tried to wake you up, hoping it was just some sort of prank, you liked to pull those off! You're joking.

Right?

....

RIGHT?

He tried everything, slightly shaking you, tapping you. How come he never saw you? Where were you...you weren't on the train-- so why are you here?

Please answer him. He'll do anything.

"[S/O]. [S/O] please...this...isn't funny anymore. Wake up." he couldn't stop the flow of his own tears. Everyone looked at the lawyer with different emotions plastered onto their faces. Shock, Worry, Pity. All of those emotions.

He remembered something. A promise you two made.

...

"Hey Wolfie! You do know I bought these necklaces for another reason!" you said cheerfully. "Oh? and what is this other reason?" he asked, his interest has clearly been piqued.

"A reason!" "What...reason exactly?"

"A reason that even if it's raining or shining we'll stick together! Even if we do get busy!" you said with the biggest smile on your face "they are magnetic necklaces so they'll also signify our bond with each other!" he chuckled at that. "[S/O], I'm going to Eden's Garden Academy...I'll be rather busy tho.."

"Who cares?! I'll be waiting for you till the very end! Plus we still have to go to that bakery that's opening in a few months! You can make time for that right?" he smiled "of course." "pinky promise????" "pinky promise."

...

Hes holding onto your clothing for dear life, like if he lets go then you'll disappear.

"[S/O]...we still have to go to the bakery opening in a few months remember...? We made a promise..." he buries his face into your neck, trying to muffle his sniffles and tears, but it's no use.

"Just come back..."

Seconds sped up to minutes, it took Jean, Jett and hell even Damon to convince the lawyer to stand up on his feet.

But even then he looked tired.

Discussions of how you died turned into investigations, which he isn't angry about.

He just wants to know who did this to you. He wants to bring this killer to justice. He wants to avenge you, one way or another.

No matter what it takes.

Your death will not go in vain.

Okay, hot damn is this kinda poorly written! but anyways guys Merry Christmas, have me writing as a gift!

Word Count: 1542 Characters: 8631 Characters W/O Spaces: 7185

Happy holidays everyone! Stay safe and healthy!

-Parfait Cookie!~ [ MIDDY . ]

#Wonderful Christmas present!#Merry Crisis everyone #Happy New Year!#Project: Eden's Garden.#Project: Eden's Garden x Reader.#Wolfgang Akire.#Wolfgang Akire x Reader.#MIDDY [ WRITES. ]#MIDDY [ ONESHOTS. ]#MIDDY [ PROJECT: EDEN'S GARDEN. ]#MIDDY [ ANGST. ]#CW: Murder #CW: Slight Gore #Cw: Major Character Death #Cw: Spoilers #Cw: Angst #Reader Insert.

59 notes · View notes