#writing this is like a fever dream

[nothing-impt]

(I lost my mind thinking about how the Fried Chicken Au came about and wrote a crack fic ft. Flying snakes. Also I am terrible at writing but I couldn't help myself)

---- “Ah, darling! There you are, as much as I love staring into your eyes, where is your blindfold?”  Hermes chirped, greeting the prophet as he sat next to him near the Lethe. Tiresias scoffed, “Oedipus came by today and pissed on all of them. I sent them to the wash.” “All of them?” “Every single one. Is everything alright? I was told you needed to meet me rather urgently.” He paused. “Is it about Odysseus? Did something happen to him?” Hermes cleared his throat. “No. My lovely great-grandson’s doing fine! He should be heading home pretty soon!” “So what’s the issue?” “...” “Hermes?” “Uh.. maybe you should just feel me to find out.” “Hermes, I am not falling for your tricks to get me to grope you.” “No, no! I’m being serious! Just trust me.” Tiresias leaned over and reached for where Hermes was supposed to be and his fingers brushed air. He scowled “There’s nothing there. I told you, no more tricks.” “You’re almost there! Just move your hands down a little!” “You better not be lying-” His fingers brushed against feathers. “Am I touching your shoes?” Hermes chuckled nervously “No?” The prophet pulled back “What exactly am I touching?” “Uh.. I’m kind of a dove now?” “Please tell me you’re joking.” Tiresias deadpanned. “I wish I was! One moment I was delivering messages and the next- boom! I was a bird! Here, touch me again!” A nearby soul wolf whistled and Tiresias hushed him, face burning  “Please, don’t say it like that!” he bent down and stroked dove Hermes, who crooned happily. “Maybe I should bring you to Lord Hades. He might have an answer.” Dove Hermes (Dovemes?) squawked out a laugh and ruffled his feathers. “I doubt it, all the Olympians have been affected. Dad’s currently an eagle, Polly’s a crow and Arty’s a quail. Don’t get me started on Uncle P, he’s a blue seagull! But Dio’s a little scary…” “What bird did Lord Dionysus turn into? A hawk?” “Worse. He turned into this purple flamingo-looking sculpture. He doesn’t move. Just stares. He kept asking for a drink though. Dad told the nymphs to dunk him in a bowl of wine so we all didn’t have to look at him. Aphrodite was super creeped out. She’s a swan, by the way.” Tiresias shuddered, “A curse must have been afflicted for Olympians to turn this way. Especially Lord Dionysus, to be deprived of movement.” Dovemes crooned in agreement as Tiresias continued to pet his feathers. “Anyway, it’s highly likely that Uncle Hades is a bird too! Look, he’s here now- Oh. nice eyes Uncle H!” Tiresias reached over to grab his staff and stood to greet the ruler of the Underworld. “Lord Hades.” “Greetings, Tiresias. Nephew, I see you have told the prophet about our predicament?” Dovemes lets out a chirp, “Yup! Wow, Uncle, I’m really digging the dazed look you’re going for- ow!” Tiresias prodded Hermes with his staff once more. “He may be your uncle, but don’t forget who you’re talking to. May I ask what bird you are Lord Hades?”

The sound of the ruffling feathers was heard, “I am a Potoo. Though I suppose we are centuries before its kind is made known to Greece. Excuse me, while I go find my wife to explain why her husband is currently a bird from  unknown origins.” With a squawk and a beat of wings, Hades left. Dovemes sighed, “Well, I better get going.” Tiresias raised a brow, “What? But you’re still stuck as a bird!” “Dad just sent out a message, he wants all of us to gather in Olympus to figure this out. I won’t visit for a while, but you can have this!”

Tiresias felt a small-clawed foot slip a feather into his palm. "Wait. Hang on-"

“I’ll see you around, darling!” And Dovemes flew off.

Tiresias sighed. What in Zeus’ name is going on?

[independent-fics]

Now, you can take that as a gift, or you can take it as a curse. And that's up to you.

Eliot Spencer and Parker Doing the Things Others Won’t

Leverage (2008-2012)

04x01 The Long Way Down Job

05x09 The Rundown Job

[dearmyloveleys]

broke: fangs of fortune is a trash of a cdrama with poor story writing, little focus on CP, the only thing redeeming is the aesthetics

woke: fangs of fortune is a story about myth and legend, how its editing, colour grading, costuming and aesthetic choices provide a sense that the characters are constantly living in a dream as it proposes that many myths are—dreamlike and where things are just are because people believe in them, things get incoherent, and with said characters developing relationships with each other that intrigue the heavens, all while challenging the traditional tropes of love and fate

bespoke: fangs of fortune is a once in a lifetime moving picture art form that compels the audience to suspend their belief of reality to follow the story, making them feel as though they are submerged in a long dream with the characters. it is only when the story ends, that we wake back up to reality. did everything really happen?

[stellewriites]

pre/poly141 summer thoughts mdni

simon who’s skin is sensitive to the sun, burns after just 15 minutes unless he’s got a factor 50 on, but usually he just layers up to avoid having to reapply. that is until johnny manages to drag him ‘round to his for a bbq with all the lads one sunny day.

after drinking a couple of luke-warm beers. simon’s easily cajoled into taking his shirt off instead of suffering and sweating through it.

“what kind’a numpty wears black, an’ long sleeved at tha’, on a day like this, si? jesus wept, tek it off a’ready.”

the others are all shirtless too, it’s fine simon tells himself as he drapes it over the back of his chair, ignoring the hungry glance price sends him from beneath the rim of his hat.

simon soon feels himself nodding off in one of the lawn chairs next to kyle after filling himself to the brim with john’s cooking - burgers, steaks, ribs, sides; the lot. john price doesn’t fuck around when it comes to showing off behind the grill.

johnny nudges simon slightly as he steals the other empty seat next to him, asks softly if he wants a bit of sunblock on and si can only nod sleepily, knowing he’ll be red raw and sore as fuck in less than ten if he doesn’t. already feels the tingle across his nose warning him to reapply.

he relaxes further at the feel of johnny’s capable hands on his chest, diligent and focused on their task though the odd finger strays to brush his nipples when in reach. he doesn’t mind, sighs in fact when he feels kyle’s hands join johnny’s, petting at his thigh through his too-thick jeans.

“dressed like it’s not 32C, simon. expecting sleet or summat, mate? you do know it’s july, right?”

he slowly blinks his eyes open, lids heavy as he stares at the pair of handsy sergeants; too tired to sharply ask what they were playing at, too tired to pretend to want them to stop. just smiles back across at his captain as he watches, satisfied, from the chair opposite.

simon gets used to the repetitive, firm massaging motions and closes his eyes again when no one speaks. despite his best efforts to soak up the feeling of skin on skin, he nods off feeling comfortable and safe and low-level horny.

wakes up 20 minutes later with sunburn just creeping in on his shoulders and tummy, and when he looks down the crude shape of a sports bra has been blocked out on his chest using the cream leaving the rest of him to burn and tan around it.

johnny and kyle are run ragged for the next month during training, even when they do their very best to make it up to him in their spare time (he hisses without fail every time they drift from licking at his cock to kissing at the irritated red line across his tummy from where his jeans stopped the burn in its tracks).

price only gets off lucky because he has aloe on hand immediately and rubs it in without getting distracted. though as soon as simon’s skin isn’t so raw he’s brushing bristly kisses across his shoulders and down his chest every chance he gets.

simon considers starting to wear his heavy, buckle-laden gear outside of missions over his shirts unless he wants john to continue dragging him into his office to yank up his loose layers to lave at his skin for ten minutes at a time and giving him beard burn in a suspiciously similar pattern to what the sergeants left.

“can’t help m’self when i know what your hidin’ under here, lieutenant. be a shame not to show my appreciation, ‘specially with such easy access.”

photo insp: ‘heat stroke’ by wintam for gqchina

[steddieas-shegoes]

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” 👀

READICUS. Okay. Alright. I've caught the context disease from you though.

Rated M | tags: language, flirting, dirty talk, so much discussion about sex they might as well be having it, getting together, FWB to lovers

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

It was just grocery shopping.

They were in a grocery store.

Eddie should not be getting hard watching Steve pick out the ripest bananas.

Like, genuinely, even he knew this was as ridiculous as it could get.

It's just that they'd been casually fucking for the last few weeks, letting off steam, just dudes helping dudes through their synchronous dry spells, and watching Steve pay so much attention to a fucking banana was a lot for Eddie to wrap his mind around.

Casually fucking might not even be the right term.

It was more like...fucking like rabbits.

Eddie spent more time at Steve's house than he spent at his own, and most of that time was spent either naked or trying to be.

He spent the night last night, and only agreed to come shopping with Steve after a very convincing blowjob against the kitchen counter.

It was working for them.

Except for how much Eddie loved Steve. Not like a friend, or a brother, or the way he loved his Hellfire minions. He loved Steve in the "would marry you in Vegas and have tons of babies with you if you wanted" way.

So embarrassing.

Especially taking into consideration that there was no way Steve saw their arrangement as anything more than convenient.

He watched as Steve finally settled on the perfect bunch of bananas and shuffled back to the cart that Eddie was leaning on.

Eddie leaned forward as Steve leaned over the cart, his lips brushing against his ear.

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs," he whispered.

Which was bold of him considering the grocery store was packed with weekend shoppers.

Steve tensed, his body freezing completely as Eddie backed away, smiling and waving at an old lady glaring at him.

"What the fuck, Eds."

Steve's cheeks were fire engine red, his hands gripping the edge of the cart like it was the only thing holding him up.

"What? I just thought you should know how bad I want you," Eddie shrugged.

They flirted with each other all the time, that's what led to their situation in the first place: the flirting went a bit too far and Steve ended up on his lap, rocking his hips back and forth until he came in his jeans.

No big deal.

Just another day.

But never in public, barely even around someone they trusted.

"Here? Now?" Steve squeaked out, eyes widening comically.

"Why not? You're hot," Eddie's hand grazed his lower back, just enough of a touch to tease, not enough to really be noticed by anyone else.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed. "You want people to see?"

"No, 'course not," Eddie smirked. "I just want you to feel."

Watching Steve struggle to find words, struggle to flirt, was possibly the biggest win in Eddie's book. If he could pat himself on the back for it, he would.

"We're in public."

"Stevie, I hate to say it, but being in public doesn't really stop me from wanting to get on my knees and suck your dick."

Steve's face got impossibly darker, only spurring Eddie on more.

"If I wasn't so worried about being walked in on, I'd drag you to the bathroom right now. Maybe fuck you in a stall. You'd probably like that, huh? You liked when I fucked you against the shower wall the other day," Eddie let his fingers trace along Steve's arm, subtle, easy to pull away if someone got too close to them.

"Eddie-"

"Or maybe you'd wanna fuck me. I know how much you like throwing me around and showing off sometimes. Think that would work for you?"

Eddie watched as Steve shivered, biting his lip and doing his best to hold back a whine.

"But we won't do that, right? Because only I get to see you like that. The way you fuck me, the way I fuck you, that's just for us, isn't it?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked around, confirmed no one was close enough to see, and settled a hand on the front of Steve's jeans.

"This is just for me."

"Yeah, just for you," Steve choked out, his hand grasping at Eddie's wrist to either pull it away or hold it in place. "Eds-"

"I know, Stevie. But we gotta shop. That's what you said when you were on your knees in the kitchen this morning."

"I can shop later," Steve gasped as Eddie's hand squeezed once before pulling away.

They were in public and there was only so much Eddie was willing to try to get away with, but Steve's reaction was everything.

He looked away, focusing on the apples in front of him as if he cared at all about apples when Steve Harrington was hard right next to him.

He froze.

He thought about everything he'd just said, how possessive he'd sounded, how he'd never quite crossed that line before.

How into it Steve was.

He looked back at Steve, who was still staring at him, face almost back to a normal shade, but lips bitten red and eyes glassy.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want that to be just for me?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to be mine? Like, more than just...fucking?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Is that...an option?" Steve was letting him have this discussion in the grocery store.

"If you want it to be."

Every once in a while, Eddie saw this look in Steve's eye, only ever when he was looking at Eddie doing something stupid or funny or when he was messing around with the kids.

He never let himself think that it was anything more than just Steve getting distracted while looking at him.

He could see it now, though, and he couldn't ignore what that look actually was.

"I want it. I want you."

Eddie was fucked. In more ways than one, it seemed.

"You do?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've practically been living with me for weeks, dude."

Eddie's lips curled down, disgusted.

"Don't call me dude, oh my God."

Steve laughed.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," he winked, turning around and pretending that he didn't just make Eddie's brain short circuit.

"I- what-" Eddie sputtered.

"What? Can't handle my mouth? You handle it fine earlier."

God, Eddie loved this man.

"Stevie, how fast can you finish shopping?" Eddie started pushing the cart away, not even sure if he was going in the right direction.

"If you stop distracting me, ten minutes."

"I'll be in the car, then."

[denkilightning]

i fully believe skybound was written with every characters flaws at their worst and like to show what it would take for them to lose. skybound is a mix of the worst kind of villain the ninja could face (pedophilic tendencies At Least Implied, absolutely excellent manipulator, physically undefeatable) with the worst circumstances they could be in (separated with one [nya] gone and one physically too exhausted and traumatised to use his powers [jay. duh]). and to lead to these circumstances, everyone needs to be at their worst. the most neglectful, insecure, overconfident, isolating and pushing-everyone-away. they had to be divided by themselves first.

[thel1ghtningthief]

im just now realizing my childhood favourite book series is a lot more fucked up than i remember because it is HEAVILY implied that after saving the main characters from a life of slavery via self sacrifice, an old man is skinned alive

[the-love-witch-roleplays]

[pencap]

they warned me that i cannot want you. mother told me wanting you would get me hurt. father told me wanting you would get me scarred. you told me wanting you would get me killed.

foolish heart, do you think i do not know? i have known from the moment that i laid eyes upon you and the devouring void in my chest woke up and named itself wanting and stretched and stretched and never stopped stretching that you would be the death of me.

foolish heart, i am not afraid.

it was always going to get me killed, this life of mine this life of yours this life of ours. and if you are going to be the death of me ( you are, you are, you are ) i would rather die for wanting you than die for hating you. i would rather die for the hope of having you than die for the fear of having you.

be my sun, my winds, my ocean and i will make myself icarus and i will find my joy in your blinding light and i will find my freedom in your touch and i will find my death in your waiting arms.

and you can melt me down like a candle under the flame or you can cast me about like a leaf in the skies or you can swallow me whole like a memory.

i will still be yours and wanting and wanting and wanting.

[vro0m]

Can't believe we're only halfway through the season and at the same time I can't remember what happened so far.

Someone send me a summary please. What happened. What did we do. Where are we.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

storytime which my figs know about but whatever (and thanks to my beloved boundin for being all worired abotu me. sorry.)

so i had an assignment due yesterday. a care plan worth 15% of my grade for a double credit point unit. anwyay. i didn't touch it, for various reasons up to and including what i'm currently calling situational depression, and planned to get an extension.

fun fact: apparently you can't get extensions day-of, at least for that assignment.

i found this out at about 11am, due 8pm, having not even looked at assignment before then.

so of course i kind of panicked. just a little bit. and opened it up real quick. shifted to desk. put on the kettle and started digging around my music library.

there's this song i like, carpenters of course, "don't be afraid". i cycled through a few other songs before i got to that one, none of them helping me get into the zone.

(anyway i listened to "don't be afraid" on loop 108 times yesterday afternoon, putting it as the top number of plays on my music app, finally surpassing a particular movement of a beethoven sonata (13 second mvt) that has reigned as king for a couple of years. then towards the end, flagging, i switched to a combo of "road ode" and "a song for you (reprise)", because those two songs have to go together musically.)

i was already feeling awful physically because most of my intake the previous day had been cheese, so wheeee dairy and almost-diarrhea as well as reasonably severe stomach pain. stress was making me dissociate a bit as well.

so. caffeine time.

keep working. more caffeine time.

keep working. more caffeine, an unmeasured amount of sugar, and another couple of spoonfuls of coffee because why not. because of a mysterious headache (likely caused by a combination of too much coffee, no food, and dairy the previous day), took ibuprofen.

keep working. more coffee. more headache. more ibuprofen.

at that point i was entirely detached from my body, experiencing symptoms of a caffeine overdose and potentially ibuprofen overdose too (didn't exceed the maximum for ibuprofen in a day, but in that short a time yes, and certainly caffeine), and saying all the stuff that worried boundin. still working on the assignment though while feeling unreal to a complete degree, not just partial, and noting symptoms as an intellectual exercise. was not present in my body at all. oh, did i mention i hadn't eaten that day? i was also experiencing violent nausea.

keep working. song still on loop. headache reducing. time passed and the reaction i was experiencing began to fade. brother gave me chocolate at some point near the end.

completed and submitted assignment about five minutes before i had to go out for the evening. somehow not at all shaky but i could feel all my skin and was inclined towards giggling.

arrived at friends' house. mentor asked how my day had been. i began laughing, explained what my day had been doing, and ended up giggling helplessly. she looked Concerned++ as i hilariously recounted my accidental overdoses x2 and that i hadn't eaten anything except chocolate, sugar, caffeine and ibuprofen that day. i made many jokes throughout the meal but mostly restrained myself overall - i was self-aware enough to know how abnormally i was acting, but it was so hard to avoid these things. inclined to laughter the whole evening, though after eating actual food that didn't contain sugar it did settle a little. later in the evening i impulse-agreed to a thing saturday i didn't want to go to, noted the concerning level of impulsivity and restrained myself from agreeing to anything else.

was offered, and enthusiastically consumed, a quantity of cold roast potatoes, which definitely helped as well.

arrived home less inclined towards giggling, but still violently nauseous; managed to avoid throwing up by the barest of margins. practically inhaled bread and ham, which i found too sweet because it was housed in the same fridge as bananas; found peanut butter for the last slice of bread, which helped. still feeling very ill but suspected i needed it given all the everything - i think this was the right call.

went to bed, yoinked ransom, cuddled him forcibly and eventually managed to sleep, still feeling rather quite hyper.

this morning i am still slightly hyper and mildly unwell but fatigue is balancing the tendency towards impulsivity. am not going to consume either caffeine or ibuprofen today unless something drastic changes or something, and a hard ban on both refined sugar and dairy until i feel more normal again.

bit of a rollercoaster.

[deadlysoupy]

like, truthfully, i dont think im ever going to express just how much starbee means to me. fundamentally. how they're perfect for each other, how one cannot exist without the other, how they're both entirely possible and insanely impossible to end up together - as if its a roll of the dice, one wrong move and they're broken, never to breach the gap, never to find the string pulling them together. its just. no amount of fanfics can ever make me express it. even if i try, and try, and always will try to express it, theres just no way. starbee is too big for me chat am i dying

[ladycrimsonandblack]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard & Kevin Day Characters: Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day, Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Matt Boyd, Allison Reynolds (All For The Game), Renee Walker (All For The Game), Aaron Minyard, Nicky Hemmick Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Queerplatonic Relationships, although i'm convinced that no one involved knows what queerplatonic relationship is, Friendship, Humor, Kevin Day: Professional Third Wheel, 5+1 Things

Summary:

Considering the fact that Andrew and Neil are definitely a couple, everyone thinks Kevin will have much less involvement with their relationship once all the deals are over. Everyone is wrong.

(Or, five times the Foxes witness Andrew, Neil and Kevin being strange, and one time the whole world is confronted with their relationship.)

[the-silver-chronicles]

2025 Year Of The OTP May Prompts: "Enlightenment" [Boa Lurking In The Bliss]

Tagging @direwombat @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @raresvtm @imogenkol @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @saynogrumpy + anyone else who'd like to read.

May prompts based on this Year Of The OTP fandom event. Tackling the only one prompt this time: Stalking.

Sharing the April Oneshot here, but alternatively can be found on my AO3 here.

CW: Non-sexual non-consensual touching from Faith (Silva doesn't even know Faith's there). Unconventional Stalking because of the Bliss.

Anyway, you can read the oneshot below the cut or on my AO3 above. Enjoy!:

Title: Enlightenment

Series: The Silver Chronicles

Pairing: Boa Lurking In The Bliss (Silva Omar/Faith Seed)

Prompts: May – Stalking.

CW: Unconventional stalking and non-sexual non-consensual touching.

Words: 2,678

Faith glided past the obscure yet recognizable shapes of the sinners with ease, their bodies made of the shifting green mist that belonged to the Bliss.

None interacted with her, given she wasn’t actually there at the sinner’s jailhouse, safe in one of the private chambers at her Gate, the Bliss pouring into the room conjuring a vague imitation of the jailhouse and the occupants in there.

Many weren’t aware, but there were two “locations” so to speak that she could take one in the Bliss; the first is the dream-like Bliss world she constructed, and the imitations of existing locations. Like the prison the Cougar’s holed up in.

Such imitations were constructed based on other’s perceptions with how much Bliss they intake. Most sinners believed that one had to be close to her Bliss or at least have large doses in their system in order to be effected by it, but what they didn’t know was that second and thirdhand residue was just as effective, given enough time and effort.

She wouldn’t have been able to reconstruct a location like John’s ranch in the room, since her brother forbid anything from her sans herself close to the family’s home. But in the Henbane, the Bliss wasn’t just in the fields or her outposts; they were in the air, the water and often stuck to passersby. Although she wouldn’t have as much sway over the individuals, she could still use their weak connection to the Bliss to utilize their perceptions. Sometimes, it allowed her to listen in on what they planned, if given enough time and patience.

But that wasn’t her focus at the moment.

Traversing the vague halls and corridors of the jail, her eyes were peeled for a familiar shape. Searching a specific figure.

She’d done this many times before. For a time, it was to check up on Tracey, especially after they fell out.

And while she did still retain a love for Tracey, she made her peace with their diverging paths, only holding onto a small hope that her friend could return to her arms under more amicable terms before the Collapse arrived.

But there was another in the jail who caught her curiosity, one who silently beckoned to be observed. To be seen.

Faith entered the cellblock, the obscure misty forms of people crowding the room. Only able to make out distinguishable traits of notable persons by the sound of their faint voices and the outlines of their shapes.

Such as the Sheriff and Minkler, whom she was fairly certain were in deep discussion to the side nearby, but the topic was unknown to her, and she wasn’t wasting time and energy to focus on their chat as for today.

No, she laid her eyes on the only perceivable person in the room.

Occupying a seat afar from the door where Faith stood, tinkering with a compound bow that archer had reportedly gifted her in the Whitetails (according to the Chosen Extraordinaire’s observations, at least), was the deputy who came as close as Joseph to being at the centre of the Reaping.

The lamb who would break the seven seals, or so claimed Joseph. Although, from what Faith had observed, she wasn’t someone she’d consider fit the criteria of a… “lamb”.

Which came the curious part; she could observe the deputy. The Bliss’ perception of her still wasn’t perfect, but it was undoubtedly close to accurate – Silva Omar was the only person Faith could see who wasn’t entirely obscured.

Face, clothing, accessories; all the details the other shapes of the crowd lacked? It was there, on her.

Even her eyes were distinguishable; although Faith noted the Bliss’ misconstrued the colour from a dull grey to an illuminating silver.

The Bliss’ misty construction of the woman also held an oddity compared to the others in this room; while everyone else’s were usually a light green ever flowing mist, like a stream of running water – the deputy’s mist was calm in flow (allowing for more intricate features to show), and the colour was more of a yellowish green, mixed with what she could only describe as tendrils that held a light hue of gold.

Faith could make out a soft hum from the woman across the room, even while she stood afar. Contrasting yet again from the misguided fools in the room, whose noise were often intangible unless the herald focused.

Deciding the distance wouldn’t serve her well, Faith tentatively approached the other side, closer and closer to the deputy.

With exception to her eyes, the Bliss did not retain any other colour Joseph’s lamb had; much like the rest of the crowd, the colour of the deputy’s discernible traits – the dark hair braided into a tail that was left undisturbed at her back, the slivers of dyed silver running down said braid like a waterfall, the deep earthly tones of her clothes and gloves, the gold locket she hid under the top hem of her shirt, and the dark olive complexion of her skin – were all unrecognized in the Bliss’ construction.

Faith slowed her approach as she gave a little twirl for no one’s eyes, expertly manoeuvring around the space until her back rested against the wall next to the busy and unaware deputy.

Ordinarily, Faith would have written the other woman off as another misguided soul, another small thinker who’d rather follow the loudest person in the room than see the world for what it was. Another doubter who she needed to show the Father’s truth, even if she had to be a bit forceful about it.

Sure, the how the Bliss constructed her image was certainly odd, but such was the nature of the Bliss. Faith was still finding new discoveries about her creation with each harvest, with every potent portion increasing.

But even without the Bliss, the deputy was far from ordinary.

It had been a fascinating habit Faith found herself indulging more and more, watching afar in the open fields, nothing more than a spectre barely acknowledged by sinners and faithful alike, albeit likely for differing reasons.

Whether it be in her bountiful fields of Bliss, the winding roads and the rugged hills, it became apparent that unlike her compatriots, Deputy Omar acknowledged the herald’s form of presence with a glance back, or even outright observing Faith’s spectral illusion while on stake outs nearby the Project’s outposts. Any intention for her spectre to get closer to the woman resulted in the Bliss’ apparition to be dissipated by a bullet.

Faith wondered how many times the Henbane’s newest troublemaker learned to open fire on one of her apparitions when they approached her, lest she be mauled by a wild animal blessed by her Bliss.

Here and now though, without a phantom-like form to haunt the deputy’s perception, Faith could closely inspect the other woman with her being none the wiser.

Oh, she wondered how the deputy would react if she ever found out that not even being induced with strong doses of Bliss would keep her safe from the “wretched, cruel siren” as the sinners deemed to dub her as.

Although, Faith thought as she observed how the skilful gloved hands impressively adjusted and removed and improved the compound bow in the deputy’s lap in swift succession, She really shouldn’t be upset about it.

After all, could her curiosity really be blamed when the woman’s enigmatic attitude was practically daring to be unravelled? Was it really wrong of her to investigate an outlier in her Bliss, and reality, which begged for an explanation?

Faith didn’t believe so.

Almost leaning over the woman as she inspected her relaxed features, Faith revisited a train of thought that’s been bugging her ever since she first locked eyes with the deputy during the Father’s arrest; what made her so special?

There was just something about the deputy which compelled Faith to get closer to her – a sensation that only grew stronger while in the Bliss. Some inexplicable calling that drew her closer to the deputy’s space.

Even watching her tinker was oddly fascinating; in the minutes Faith had observed her working on the compound bow, she could tell how vastly different it looked compared to how it originally was before.

From a distance, one wouldn’t realize the bow’s curves held a serrated edge to it, making close combat, should the arrows be no longer necessary or effective, a surprise to be sure.

Quite deadly. And subtly ingenious. Not unlike its owner.

Faith glanced back to the woman’s face, and noted something the Bliss exemplified – the small, crude white lines littered like cuts on various parts of her features. It looked familiar, like the scarring tissue on John and Joseph’s bodies, though she’d wager a guess the deputy’s had time to heal far longer than either of her brothers.

Her green eyes roamed down further, stopping on the chapped lips, before moving to what little she could see of the deputy’s exposed neck and throat, and recognized the intricate patterns of third-degree burns creeping a little on the left side, with possibly more hidden underneath her clothing.

Like the scarring that cut on her face, such a detail would have been barely noticeable to Faith if it weren’t for the Bliss favouring to detail Joseph’s lamb, which was intriguing and frustratingly inexplicable by its own right.

Faith wondered what stories were behind such marks. What hardships in life had a woman as young as the deputy lived through to obtain those mutilations on her form?

So close to the deputy now, an impulsive thought abruptly forced its way to the forefront of her mind; a compulsion to touch the deputy.

A small part of her voiced caution over such an action, but a deeper part of her seemed to rationalize it, a compelling want to press against the deputy’s form, if only to see what happens. Regardless of her mind over the matter, she could not stop her arm lifting to reach out to the unaware deputy’s shoulder. Not much concern in doing so, Faith reasoned. After all, when her hand would eventually connect with the Deputy’s shoulder, she fully expected nothing to occur-

Silva tensed up, her posture straightened upon Faith’s fleeting touch, a touch which had retracted with an immediate step back upon seeing the other react. Soon enough, Faith was frozen, staring into the wide and unnervingly silver eyes that the Bliss peculiarly chose to illuminate, the deputy soon furrowing her dark brows as her eyes narrowed, grip on her compound bow tight and ready for combat.

Caught by the intensity of her gaze, Faith noticed how her own breathing seemed to halt, held in the back of her throat as she could only stare back at Silva, dazed. She awaited the woman’s next move, a thousand panicked thoughts running through her head on what could possibly occur now-

Then the deputy blinked. And blinked again, puzzled eyes flitting around for the source of the unexpected touch. Faith didn’t chance a muscle to move, not until she was certain of Silva’s next move. An answer that came when her face receded from the space Faith was in, looking around elsewhere, the crowd in the room ignorant to what occurred.

Faith exhaled when the other woman opted to drop her gaze back on her bow, even if her brows furrowed and uneasily forcing her body to relax. Shaking off the strange occurrence, huffing as she rubbed one gloved hand over the small bags under her eyes.

Once the moment passed, the herald soon eased up, recovered from her surprise, brushing some stray light brown hair that had been disturbed by the sudden jolt. Faith tilted her head as her mind processed and reviewed the result of her action, observing as the deputy’s posture began to naturally relax, though she was no longer humming.

Huh, was the thought Faith could comprehend. Cautious, Faith took a step closer, and then another. Nothing that invoked a reaction out of the deputy.

That has never happened before.

In all her time working on the Bliss over the years, nothing as groundbreaking and strange had simultaneously occurred ever since her proliferation and utilization of it. And certainly nothing to the degree of this outlier the deputy seemed to be becoming.

While she could certainly implore the perceptions in the minds of the imitations of the Bliss bodies around her, usually when her hold was stronger through high dosage and exposure, she couldn’t physically feel them. Even truer if her hold wasn’t as focused or strong, especially if the person in question was only exposed to minimal doses of her Bliss, like the deputy should be.

Faith furrowed her brows in thought. She glanced to her hand – the one that touched the deputy’s shoulder. She could feel a lingering and tingling sensation, like a slight temperature, though she couldn’t put a name on it. It felt almost right.

Looking back to the deputy as she continued to tinker, though with an occasional glance around the room now, Faith wondered if she should risk it again.

After all, she thought to herself, stepping closer to behind the deputy’s seat, justifying her ignited curiosity, By all accounts, it is my duty to test all manner of the Bliss’ operation, if we are ever to reach closer to Eden. It is the Father’s will.

Directly behind the seated deputy now, she took a breath as she leisurely placed both her hands onto the deputy’s shoulders.

Silva stiffened under her, and Faith fought the impulse to retreat her hands like they were touching the hot surface of a stove. It took Faith instinctively kneading at her shoulders for Silva to make any sort of response, the woman seated below her glancing back, eyes seeking the source of such an inexplicable sensation.

Faith held her breath when those illuminating silver rings were brought onto her. It was an uncanny sight. If kind of bewitching to look at.

But like last time, no matter how hard she tried to narrow and squint her eyes for the source, Silva returned her gaze back to the front. Perplexed on what was happening, most likely, but trying to retain some measure of normalcy from the strangeness she was experiencing.

Faith bit at her bottom lip, wondering how far she could take this interesting discovery.

She tightened her grip on Silva’s shoulders, fingers clenching and unclenching, rubbing at her along a joint.

The tension of Silva’s body begun to dissipate into relaxation, the minor massage Faith was giving the woman invoked a soft gasp and light exhale from her lips.

Faith watched with intrigue as the woman reached a hand up to one shoulder, gloved fingers brushed against the herald own exposed one. Faith was unsure how to describe the sensation, but it wasn’t unpleasant, almost basking in the touch. She wondered if her deputy could feel the skin of her dainty, calloused hands as well, though when the gloved hands retracted back to her lap, Faith thought not.

The sensation her hands felt on Silva’s body felt right. Like she was being whispered to; soft welcomes, murmurs of belonging, in a way that encouraged her to sink further on Silva’s form.

Faith adjusted her stance, bending a bit so her hands slinked below Silva’s shoulders and rested above her chest, fingers interlocking as her face passed Silva’s cheek, chasing after that wonderful sensation the closer her body pressed against the woman.

She briefly thought about sweeping her deputy away out of the sinner’s den, take her back to her Gate, if not to hoard this feeling for herself, then to keep it from her brothers’ greedy hands. She couldn’t stand the idea of anyone but herself knowing this pleasant sensation, of having it.

With her arms wrapped around her seated deputy, ignoring the small shudder from the recipient of her embrace, her face rested in the crook of the woman’s neck, Faith couldn’t stop the thought that finally named the familiar sensation she longed for while holding Silva.

Warm.

[recurring-polynya]

why is this fanfic 7000 words? this is so unnecessary

[wawamouse]

Oz AU ⟶ After six years at Lardner Correctional Facility for aggravated assault, Carmen Guerra is out on parole when he begins to experience strange and vivid dreams of another man's life. At night, he wakes up and can see and feel through the body of a man named Miguel Alvarez, an inmate from Oswald Correctional who is on the run toward Mexico after breaking free of prison. What originally seems to be an odd but explainable phenomenon takes a bizarre twist when Carmen learns from an old friend who was incarcerated at Oswald that just two years prior, an inmate by the name Miguel Alvarez had escaped from Oswald, only to die while being captured in the Arizona desert. Having gone weeks of dreaming up this stranger's life, feeling his fear and hunger and paranoia, Carmen can't help but be compelled to do some further digging around, if only to figure out why he subconsciously felt so drawn to this man in the first place. While snooping through reports on the matter, Carmen quickly learns of the suspected foul play in Alvarez's death, a police cover up that no one seems interested in pursuing, and a potential connection to a string of vigilante murders down by the border. That night, he goes to bed and wakes up alone and feeling terrified in the abandoned warehouse that Alvarez had holed away in for sleep. As he watches Alvarez stand, a voice speaks, raspy with disuse, and seemingly aimed at no one in particular. It's Alvarez: "If you're there," he starts, and trails off, mumbling a nervous curse before trying once more. "If you're watching... Carmen, I ain't a dream and I ain't dead, either, not yet. Hope to keep it that way. But I need your help."

Tagged: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Era, Psychic Bond, Mystery, Thriller, Strangers to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending