#-an-area-straight-north-of-the-city

[usmetube]

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[oh-meow-swirls]

love how much shit 3 has it's great. there's so much crap. love it. 10/10.

[anghraine]

I know I've ranted about it a million times, but every time someone brings up Roman, Byzantine, and Egyptian inspirations/influences on Gondor in more mainstream Tolkien fandom spaces (not me, because I don't even talk about it off Tumblr/DW), it seems like there's always someone who gets super weird and defensive about it. I've seen so many "well actually there's no need to consider any influences outside of England, mythology for England blah blah" responses.

And it's like! Oh, you want to play the decontextualized Tolkien quotes game? How about this one:

“But this [the setting of LOTR] is not a purely 'Nordic' area in any sense. If Hobbiton and Rivendell are taken (as intended) to be at about the latitude of Oxford, then Minas Tirith, 600 miles south, is at about the latitude of Florence [in Italy]. The Mouths of Anduin and the ancient [Gondorian] city of Pelargir are at about the latitude of ancient Troy [in Turkey]. Auden has asserted that for me 'the North is a sacred direction.' That is not true. The North-west part of Europe, where I (and most of my ancestors) have lived, has my affection, as a man’s home should. I love its atmosphere, and know more of its histories and languages than I do of other parts; but it is not ‘sacred’, nor does it exhaust my affections. I have, for instance, a particular love for the Latin language, and among its descendants for Spanish ... The progress of the tale ends in what is far more like the re-establishment of an effective Holy Roman Empire with its seat in Rome than anything that would be devised by a 'Nordic.'”

Or this one:

we come [in ROTK] to the half-ruinous Byzantine City of Minas Tirith

Or:

In the south Gondor rises to a peak of power, almost reflecting Númenor, and then fades slowly to decayed Middle Age, a kind of proud, venerable, but increasingly impotent Byzantium.

Or:

The Númenóreans of Gondor were proud, peculiar, and archaic, and I think are best pictured in (say) Egyptian terms. In many ways they resembled ‘Egyptians’ - the love of, and power to construct, the gigantic and massive. And in their great interest in ancestry and in tombs. […] I think the crown of Gondor (the S. Kingdom) was very tall, like that of Egypt, but with wings attached, not set straight back but at an angle. The N. Kingdom had only a diadem (III 323). Cf. the difference between the N. and S. kingdoms of Egypt.

Or:

Thank you very much for your letter. … It came while I was away, in Gondor (sc. Venice), as a change from the North Kingdom

Middle-earth is not equivalent to England, or northern Europe in general, and Gondor especially is not northern at all!

[alphajocklover]

I’m really a super gay guy but I’m curious how I would be as a straight bro like in your hometown hex stories. Do you think that I could go in there and age up into a big hot straight daddy?

Hey there! Well it’s natural to be curious about what you would be like if things were different, in this case if you were a straight jock, I wouldn’t recommend actually going to Maxford to test this out. Maxford is shockingly self reliant and is designed so that the people inside have as few reasons to leave town as possible, so it's easy to get stuck there permanently if your jock self decided he likes the town (which he probably would). That's not the only problem with your idea though, the other one being that while Maxford changes anyone in its city limits into an athletic, straight, jock version of themselves, it doesn’t change someone's age, at least not usually. Occasionally someone will go through an extra change when they enter the town, like becoming older or younger, but that's fairly rare. The good thing is that there is a way to get what you want, and it actually has quite a bit to do with Maxford. Namely, it has to do with Maxfords main export: bottled water.

I’ve mentioned before that there are other places out there that are like Maxford, places known as transformation areas, places that change people inside them in a certain way. Maxford is the biggest transformation area, but hardly the only one. One example is Baxter Beach, which as I mentioned in a previous post is a beach that turns people into beefy surfers. What I didn’t mention is that transformation areas change more than just the people. While they don’t physically change like people do, everything that enters a transformation area is infused with the magic of it. Everything, from the soil, to the leaves, to even the water. Especially the water actually. For some reason the water that flows through Maxford and places like it retains some magical properties, allowing those who drink it to be temporarily transformed into their Maxford self. The magic usually dissipates shortly after it leaves the city limits, but a small (magical) company figured out how to bottle it in a way that allows it to keep its special properties. Even more impressive, they figured out how to change the transformation you go through by adding some different ingredients. I’ve taken the liberty of sending you a bottle of one of their drinks, ‘Diet Daddy Cola.’ It’ll make you a straight muscle daddy, for the next 24 hours at least. Send me a picture once you’ve changed, if your memory is still partially intact. I’ve also included a couple other bottles I think you’d like. Himbo Punch is one of my personal favorites. It Tastes like strawberries. 

If you’re thinking: This is a lot like the potions you gave that actor, then you’d be right. All potions are made from a base of magical water, and Maxford is one of the biggest sources in North America. I used some to make those potions, though my work is more personalized than most mass produced potions. I’ve actually been thinking of starting a bit of a potions side business… but I’m not sure I want to get in a competition with that potion company I mentioned. I already have enough enemies.

[sgiandubh]

Oh, hello

The Sibyl of Tydavnet was supposedly back home, and we finally have something to speculate upon, after a week-end with no news from both of Them (go figure). So much so that it's been very, very quiet in here:

This is, of course, a latergram, When being the important question, here. I have to say I was a bit surprised, after two hours of research (and cooking, but that is a separate story).

Let's unpack:

From 1974 to 2023, the Monaghan County Museum has been open and free to visit. Until 1981, in the old Courthouse building of Monaghan Town, then temporarily hosted by the Christian Brothers Secondary School, and since 1986 in this building on Hill Street:

I am not inventing anything, this info comes straight from their official website:

On May 18th, 2023 (on International Museum Day), the venue was closed and the collections were planned to be moved at the new Monaghan Peace Campus:

The Peace Campus is a very important local initiative, funded by the City Council, the Irish Department of Rural and Community Development and the EU, via the Irish SEUPB (Special EU Programs Body - ironically, the counterpart of my new job, starting next Friday, LOL). It was inaugurated on May 10, 2024:

Where was C, in this clip, posted today and suggesting a recent trip to Ireland?

In the old building, of course, exactly as it was on May 18, 2023:

Apparently taken on an extensive private tour that included the storage area, where this pic was taken:

How do I know it? I simply combed the meager social media accounts of the Museum, that's all. See and compare for yourself, with this screenshot of the moving operations, from the old Hill Street to the new premises (posted on Facebook, on June 14th, 2024, but very likely shot slightly before):

In April 2023, the new Peace Campus looked roughly like this. There is no way that clip would have been shot there. Not then...

...and not later, because the new display in the new venue looks totally different:

And it was completed around May 10th 2024, when this picture was taken, separately from the rest of the released info:

The pic was taken by Laura Hogan, the North East Correspondent for RTE News, a subsidiary of the Irish public TV and Radio broadcasting company:

But perhaps even more interestingly, the Museum shot several clips of people featured, like C, in the new inaugural exhibition. Such as this guy, back in June 2023, on their old premises:

Ardal O'Hanlon, Irish stand-up comedian and actor, based in Ireland and London:

This is a very, very, VERY late latergram. My best guess would be anytime between May 2023 and most probably around June 2023. Simply because it would be logical that the clip shooting be completed with all the people involved at the same time, for logistical reasons, and before the packing of the exhibits would have started in earnest.

As always, I could be wrong. As always, people will bitch around, especially the divas and those who know strictly nothing. But I'll be damned if C were in Ireland anytime near this last week-end!

[y-rhywbeth2]

It just occurred to me that there might be a way to make a headcanon to tie in the lore of Orin's dagger (that Bhaal was killing in back alleys in the place where Baldur's Gate would someday stand, despite him predating the existence of alleys in the area) with the lore from Lord of the End of Everything (he's from High Netheril), and also explain what the Undercity is and where it came from.

So High Netheril was composed of enclave cities, which were enchanted to fly. When Karsus and Jergal wrecked the Weave those went smashing straight into the ground, leaving behind only refugees who managed to get out one way or another (Bhaal and Bane apparently amongst them). The empire of Netheril was focused over what is now the Anauroch Desert, but some enclaves floated elsewhere, such as Ythryn, which was situated far North in the Icewind Dale. At least some cities, such as Ythryn and Undrentide, are now subterranean, buried beneath the earth/sand/ice.

Bhaal's mortal life was apparently spent in the flying city that was part of the nation of Rdiuz - if that city was flying over the spot where Baldur's Gate would one day be built, crashed and was buried, was forgotten except for by, say, its former spymaster/government hitman turned god... he would technically have been murdering in the back alleys of a city before the Gate.

There is the question of why Bhaal has a temple in the ruins of a city that died before his ascension, but that wouldn't necessarily stop him sending followers down there to build one/hijack an old temple of Jergal when civilisation kicked off in the area and that smuggling hub that will one day be a major city developed.

So Orin, Durge, and before them, (kind of) Sarevok, are/were living in the long-dead forgotten city of their father and ancestors in this headcanon. Hey, some of those undead haunting the place might be their grandparents! Or great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins... fully mortal half-siblings? Step-parents?

[stephensmithuk]

The Hound of the Baskervilles: The Stapletons of Merripit House

A mullion is a vertical divider in a window.

A scullery maid was the lowest ranking female servant in the household, who would wash the dishes and sometimes the clothing too. Snow White and Cinderella started off in this role.

It would take Watson around two hours to walk to Grimpen. I've done longer walks and I suppose he would have done so in his Army days.

A grocer is a person who runs a grocery, which in British English is analagous to a general store, where you would buy most everyday items, including the most common newspapers and magazines. We would also distinguish these days between the larger supermarket (grocery store) and the smaller corner shop (what New Yorkers would call a bodega); frequently run by immigrants or their immediate descendants. This is an example of the latter.

I do not know how common it was then, but today it is very common, even in major cities, to have a Post Office counter as part of another store such as a corner shop; these franchised businesses are run by subpostmasters. The Post Office, as well as post, provides banking services for both its own financial business and for other banks or building societies. The computer system that was used for financial transactions by them, Horizon, is currently at the centre of a major scandal.

Dartmoor has many peat bogs. The Ordnance Survey maps give their general location, but their exact size varies depending on conditions. Walkers frequently end up in them by accident or lack of experience; safe routes are marked out, but not always easy to see. The vast majority are not that deep and the worst that will happen is a case of smelly, muddy embarrassment. However, some are deeper, where you can end up with a risk of hypothermia - there are no less than four volunteer Mountain Rescue teams in the area to help people in difficulty.

Then some are straight up lethal, especially to animals. A gallop is the fastest horse speed setting - a horse can run at around 25 to 30mph for up to three kilometres before getting winded. So, not a good idea to do it on boggy land.

Grimpen Mire is believed to have been inspired by Fox Tor Mire:

There are 14 species of bittern. One of them is the Eurasian bittern, which was indeed extinct in the UK for a while when this story takes place and is still only here in limited numbers with its habitat. The species as a whole currently rated "Least Concern" but in decline.

The Neolithic period lasted from c.10,000 BC to c.2,000 BC, being the final period of the Stone Age. There is a timber track pathway in Somerset, the oldest recorded road, dating back to c. 3,838 BC.

Cyclopides was an old name for several species of South African Skipper butterflies. They tend to be found in southern Africa, not Dartmoor:

Miss Stapleton must deem the situation urgent to leave without her hat; people did not as a general rule go hatless in this period, even the poorest usually had some form of cap.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 28**

Sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, it's a bit of a "travel" chapter and although I had a couple of scenes I wanted to add, the rest of the chapter just didn't flow. But here it is, finally!

Series Master List

Chapter 29 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 6.9k

The weather outside the school is a crisp, early fall day, and as you all make your way towards the interstate heading north you relish being away from the city again. The route chosen takes you away from suburban areas as much as possible so for hours you walk through green fields and patches of forest where the leaves have started changing color. It’s like a picturesque fall hike, except all seven of you are armed, guns ready, and walking with your heads on swivels.

Pope’s taken the lead, Joel behind him, not willing to let Pope be all in command. Frankie and you follow Joel, and Tommy brings up the rear behind Will and Benny. By midday you’ve covered a lot of ground and take a break by a small lake. You gratefully sink down onto the ground with your back against a log. The ache in your shoulder is a dull throb and you’re trying to get by without any more painkillers. 

“Just take the damn pills, cariño,” Frankie says when you shake your head. 

“We don’t have that many left, what if we need them for something more serious?” you object and he raises his eyebrows. 

“You can be all brave and stoic when we’re inside a QZ, out here I need you to be as good as you can be with that shoulder.” He holds the pills out again, along with his canteen and you accept them. 

“ ‘Stoic’, big word there, Frankie’,” you tease him as he watches you swallow the pills. 

“The Gladiator film,” he says, grinning, “Marcus Aurelius was a stoic philosopher.” 

“How do you even remember that?” you ask incredulously and Frankie gives you a crooked smile as he sits down next to you. 

“I’ve watched that film like thirty times.”

“Director’s cut with commentary,” Benny chips in, grinning as he sits down on the other side of you. “He was obsessed!”

“How did I not know about this obsession?” you ask, laughing as Frankie reaches across and slaps Benny’s cap off. 

“It’s a masterpiece, and the Academy agrees with me because it got an Oscar for Best Film and-,” Frankie says. 

“No it didn’t, Erin Brockowich won the Oscar for Best Film that year,” Benny interrupts, “I remember Julia Roberts on stage.” 

“Erin Brockowich didn’t win an Oscar for Best Film!” Frankie protest, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” 

“No, you’re out of your mind if you think Gladiator beat Erin Brockowich, that film was awesome!” 

“It was alright, but it did not win an fucking Oscar for Best Film!” Frankie throws his hands up, “I can’t fucking believe you, Benny, you’re delusional!” 

“Russel Crowe won an Oscar for Best Actor, I’ll give you that, he was awesome. ‘What we fight in life, dies in eternity!’ “ Benny quotes in his best Russel Crowe impersonation. 

“Jesus, Benny, that’s not even the quote!” Frankie sighs with a roll of his eyes as you chuckle. 

“If we had a smartphone with an internet connection, I’d solve this straight away,” you say, giving Frankie a calming pat on his thigh. “But you’ll just have to hope we find a library with an encyclopedia.”

“I’m telling you, Erin Brockowich won an Oscar for Best Film, Frankie!” Benny says and Frankie mumbles something undoubtedly rude in Spanish and pushes himself up. 

“I’m gonna get some lunch, I’ll get you a bowl too, cariño.” With a scowl at Benny he stalks off and you can’t help but smile at the mundane argument between the two men. Benny leans over and chuckles. 

“I totally know Gladiator won the Oscar for Best FIlm, but I just love winding him up.” 

“Benjamin Miller, you are a nuisance!” you laugh as Benny grins and digs into his own lunch. 

You continue on after lunch, until darkness starts to settle. You find a farmstead on the outskirts of a small town and once it’s cleared you all settle down for the night. You’re excused from the watch rosta again and sleep through the night while the guys take turns standing guard. You wake up early again, Frankie had the second to last watch and he’s sleeping soundly, his arm thrown over your waist. He stirs as you shift under him, mumbling in his sleep, and you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips curl in a drowsy smile. 

“Go back to sleep, Frankie,” you whisper, and as you pull on your boots, you hear his soft snores start back up. 

Joel has the last watch tonight and you find him pacing the yard in front of the farm house, turning as you step through the door. 

“Morning,” you say, sitting down on the porch steps as he turns back towards the yard. 

“Mornin’ “ 

“Quiet night?” you ask, looking out over the field beyond the farmstead as Joel turns and paces back across the yard again. 

“No one came near us but a few groups of infected moving south in the distance,” he replies, turning and coming back towards you again. He stops and looks down at you, his brow furrowed, looking like he has something on his mind. You wait, looking up at him as his jaw ticks. 

“Frankie’s girl,” he says eventually, “Tommy told me. I’m sorry.” His voice is gruff, his eyes not meeting yours, instead scanning the sides of the building. 

“Thanks,” you say, “Tommy told me about Sarah, I’m really sorry too, Lucía loved her.” 

“Yeah.” He stands still for a beat before he turns and paces back across the yard, stopping at the last building and looking out over the fields. 

You remain on the porch, watching his rigid posture, but he doesn’t turn and come back and eventually you hear people moving inside the house and you get up to help with breakfast, leaving him to his vigil. 

You made good time yesterday, Pope shows you on the map how far you’ve come. 

“We should make it to the Boston QZ before nightfall, but it’ll be slower going today since we’re moving through populated areas,” he says, his finger tracing a line across the map. 

“More people, more infected,” you sigh, accepting your backpack from Frankie as he comes over. 

“Yeah, we need to be on our toes today,” Pope agrees, “But, there’s seven of us, I’d think twice before I mess with an armed group that large.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right, Pope,” Will says, scanning the map next to you, “Let’s head out.” 

Pope was right about it being slower going. Only a few miles from the farmstead the suburbs begin, a massive sprawl all around the greater Boston area. The six men quickly fall into a familiar pattern of tactical advancement, you stay close to Frankie, as two men move forwards, covered by the other four, repeating as you move through the neighborhoods. Eventually you leave the suburbs behind and move into Boston, heading towards North End where the QZ is supposed to be located. 

As you’re moving across a large street, you and Frankie in front, you suddenly hear a desperate call for help. Frankie immediately holds up his hand to halt the others, Joel moving up next to you. The call is coming from a side street just up ahead and carefully the three of you move forward, the other four covering your backs. As you clear the corner, guns raised, you see the source of the noise, a young boy is trapped underneath a dumpster, his leg jammed and he’s crying out as he pulls on it. Next to him is a teenage girl, trying to shift the heavy dumpster off his leg. The boy cries out as he sees you, his face twisted in pain. 

“Please, help!” the girl calls, “my brother’s stuck!” She puts her shoulder against the dumpster and tries to shift it again. You holster your gun and start jogging towards the pair. 

“Cariñio, wait!” Frankie calls as he sees you move, following you with his hand out to pull you back. 

“Stop!” Joel bellows and yanks Frankie to the side so that they both tumble to the ground behind a car, you look back at them as you step forward and your leg catches on a wire. You barely have time to register your mistake and then a loud explosion knocks you sideways, showering you with dust and debris, you cry out as you land on your injured shoulder. Your vision is filled with dust, your gasping to catch your breath and your ears are ringing, somehow you register the loud noise of gunshots and then Frankie is on you, pulling you backwards across the ground behind a van. His face is swimming in front of yours as you try to focus on what he’s saying, he’s patting you down, lifting your shirt to and checking your abdomen. You shake your head, trying to clear the fog, and slowly Frankie’s voice comes back to you.

“Cariño! Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts?” He’s kneeling in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, trying to make you focus on him. A corner of your mind registers that the gun fire has stopped and you try to feel if you’re hurting anywhere. 

“Only my shoulder,” you croak finally, “I landed on it.” You shake your head again and blink and Frankie swims into view, clearer now. “I think I’m ok, my ears are ringing but nothing is broken.” 

“Get her up, we need to move,” Joel barks from somewhere to your right, loud enough to cut through the ringing, and Frankie moves around, putting his arm around your waist and helping you up. You’re dizzy but it fades quickly as you take a few steps towards the street, your legs are a bit shaky but nothing hurts. You glance over at the boy and the girl and see them lying lifeless against the dumpster, multiple bullet wounds leaking blood onto the ground. 

“Let’s move!” Pope yells and Frankie pulls you along, as Will comes up on your other side to check if you need support. 

“I think I’m good, Will, thanks,” you say, your legs feeling steadier with each step. 

“Ok, good,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder at the site of the explosion, his gun raised. “I think you got really lucky, that bomb was made wrong. Lots of noise, very little blast, amateur work.” He catches your eyes and gives you a serious look, “You got really lucky.” You drop your gaze, you know you fucked up, he doesn’t have to say it.  

You all move quickly through the next few blocks and shouts go up behind you, prompting Pope to hastily consult the map before making a sharp turn. “Down here, we’ll lose any pursuers in the alleys,” he says and you all jog along as quickly as possible while still checking every street corner. Eventually you come out on a big highway, following it north and slowing down to a walk again. 

You walk next to Frankie, he keeps glancing over at you but you keep your eyes on the ground or forward on Joel’s back. You put everyone in danger, especially Frankie, by being thoughtless and trusting. Guilt and shame crawls up your limbs and makes your cheeks burn as you remember how both Frankie and Joel yelled at you. You can’t bring yourself to look at Frankie, his concerned eyes, you know he’ll smooth it over, make it out as if it was a mistake anyone could’ve made. But you know that’s not true, the others saw the trap instantly, you just saw two children who needed help and rushed in without thinking. 

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” you finally mumble when you can’t take it anymore. And just like you thought, Frankie immediately takes hold of your hand and strokes soothing little circles onto your skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, cariño, you made a mistake, the important thing is you’re not hurt.” 

You hear Joel growl in front of you and Frankie looks up at him as Joel throws a scowl over his shoulder at you, “You could’ve gotten us all killed, being so fucking trusting, fucking stupid.”

You feel your cheeks heat up again and you bite your lip, dropping your eyes to your boots as you continue walking. But Frankie tightens his hold on your hand as he glowers at Joel’s back.  

“Shut the fuck up, Joel,” he snarls, “she made a mistake and I should’ve been more alert, should’ve seen it first.” 

“Well, that’s just the fucking problem isn’t it?!” Joel snaps, stopping and spinning around to face Frankie and you. “You’re so fucking wrapped around her that you don’t pay attention to anything. Could have fucking clickers tearing the rest of us to pieces but you’d only see her. She’s a fucking liability.” 

You see Frankie opens his mouth to yell at Joel but Will’s firm hand comes down on his shoulder. 

“Ok, that’s enough,” he says, his voice determined and signaling ‘end of fucking discussion’. “We need to keep moving, we’re almost at the QZ. This is not the time or the place.” 

Without a word Joel turns on his heel and marches off, overtaking Pope who’s looking at Frankie with his eyebrows raised. Frankie snaps his mouth shut, his teeth grinding together as he starts walking again. He’s still got a hold of your hand but as you walk you pull away from it, taking out your gun as your eyes scan the broken city around you. Joel words sting, there’s a truth to them, Frankie’s said so himself back in Arlington when you asked to help with the smuggling. ‘I wouldn’t be able to focus on what we’re doing if I know you’re out there too’. He only let you join in the operation when you pleaded with him. And now you’d proven how right he’d been, you made a mistake and his focus had been on you, not the potential danger. You grip your gun tighter, keeping your eyes on the horizon as you swallow down the lump in your throat and keep walking, trying to ignore Joel’s furious form in front and Frankie’s worried looks on your left.  

Downtown Boston is a mess, a wrecked no man’s land of broken buildings and water filled craters. It’s slow going with many detours and uneasy sprints across streets as you follow the broken signs towards the QZ. You stay behind Frankie, your gun out, pointed down towards the ground, stopping when he stops, running when he runs, making yourself small and invisible, avoiding Frankie’s eyes, and Joel’s scowls. 

The QZ gate finally comes into view as the sun sinks behind the broken skyline. You make one final detour on Pope’s suggestion, all of you hiding your rifles and some of your handguns inside a building just out of sight of the gate. 

“Better to stash them here than to let FEDRA take them,” Pope says, marking the building on his map as you hide your gun and holster at the bottom of your backpack. 

You get to the gate, get scanned and taken to a processing center. Since it’s getting late you’re shown to a temporary housing facility, bunk beds set up in the hall of a community center, and given a thin stew for dinner. After the meager meal you get ready for bed, gratefully pulling off your boots and sinking down on Frankie’s bunk bed, you’ve been assigned the one on top. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in to rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Relax now, cariño,” he mumbles, “we got here in one piece.” 

“I’m really sorry about today, Joel’s right,” you whisper, guilt welling up inside you again, “I made a huge mistake that could’ve gotten us killed.” 

Frankie sighs and lets his hand caress your hair as he pulls you in closer, “You made a mistake because you’re you, you’re not a soldier. And I love that,” he adds when he hears you inhale to interrupt. “You’re not a soldier and you shouldn’t have to be, I should keep you safe and I wasn’t paying enough attention today.” 

“Frankie, if you blame yourself for me getting myself blown up today, I’m going to slap you,” you protest and you hear him sigh. 

“But it’s true, I promised to keep you safe, both to you and to myself, and I failed.” 

You pull yourself from his grip so that you can sit up straight and look at him, “You do not get to blame yourself for that and you can’t keep me safe at all times, that’s impossible.” 

“I know, but when I’m right there, right next to you, I should keep you safe, I should’ve seen that fucking trap the second we turned the corner, I need to keep you safe,” his voice shifts, an edge to it you haven’t heard in a few years. 

“Frankie…” you say, taking his hand as you open your mouth to argue, to pull him back from where he’s heading, but he interrupts, cutting you off. 

“I need to keep you safe, you know that,” his eyes are pleading with you, “you know it’s all I have, you’re all I have. If I can’t keep you safe then…then,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “then nothing. I’m nothing. After Lucía…” he trails off, and you cup his face in your hands and lean against his forehead. “You know how close I came to leaving you because I couldn’t keep you safe,” he mumbles, “I have to keep you safe, I have to protect you.” 

“I know Frankie, I know,” you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs but you don’t try to argue with him, you don’t try to convince him, you just try to calm him down. “I promise I’ll be more careful too. And we’re safe now, Frankie, we’re both safe.” 

“I just wanna keep you safe, hermosa,” he mumbles, putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side and you lean your head on his shoulder again. “I just need to keep you safe.” 

You take his other hand and tangle your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb over the bullseye tattoo and you sit in silence while the rest of the room quietens down, people settling down to sleep. Your own eyes are getting heavy and you stifle a yawn. 

“I hope we can stay here now,” you mumble as he caresses your hair, his fingertips gently scraping against your scalps.  

“Yeah, I hope so, Boston seems good so far,” he looks down at you as you slip further down his shoulder. “Hermosa, don’t fall asleep sitting up, c’mon, get into bed.” He smiles as he nudges you to sit upright again and starts peeling your jacket off. You nod and pull off your hoodie too before climbing up into the top bunk. Frankie stands up and tucks you into your sleeping bag and cups your cheek, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. 

“Sleep well, cariño, sweet dreams.” He chuckles softly as your eyes close before he’s even finished speaking, pressing his lips to your forehead and settling down in the bottom bunk. 

FEDRA in Boston seems to have the procedure of admitting people down to an efficient art form. It only takes a few hours the next day for you all to be assigned housing, ration cards and told to report to the assignment officer in two days time. The Boston QZ is located in the city’s North End, narrow streets lined by centuries old red brick buildings and surrounded on three sides by water. You’ve all been assigned apartments in the same building, Pope, Will and Benny in one apartment, Joel and Tommy in another and Frankie and you in a small one bedroom place on the top floor overlooking Old North Church. 

Frankie pulls you into his chest the second the door closes behind you. You’ve just managed to drop your bag on the floor when his arms circle around you and the cool tip of his nose presses against your neck. You hear him inhale deeply, probably smelling almost a week’s worth of dirt and sweat on your skin and you shift under him, feeling the need for a shower. 

“I stink Frankie,” you giggle as he holds you tighter when you squirm under him. 

“I don’t fucking care, I let you shower last time I had you alone,” he growls, “you smell great to me, you’re my favourite smell in the world.” 

“Not aviation fuel?” you tease him and he chuckles into your hair.  “Close second, hermosa.” 

He’s walking you backwards into the new apartment, guiding you into a room that turns out to be the kitchen and with a firm grip on your waist, he lifts you up onto one of the counters. 

“Look at this, perfect height and everything,” he grins as he pushes your legs apart, making room for himself between them and pulling you closer. You’ve still got your boots on, and your jacket, and you’re giggling as he starts tugging at the sleeves as he buries his face against the crook of your neck, placing wet kisses on your salty skin. When he uses his teeth, nipping that spot just under your ear, your giggles turn into a gasp and he bites harder, making you moan so that he can feel the sound come from your throat. You fight with your sleeves, finally freeing yourself and throwing your jacket on the floor and tangling your hands in Frankie’s soft curls, pushing off his cap and pulling his lips up to yours. The back of your head thumps against the cupboard behind you when he meets your kiss, his tongue greedily licking into your open mouth and pushing you back. When his hands roam under your t-shirt and caress along your sides, up your back, his fingers feel hot on your skin, making you shiver with pleasure and you tilt your head back with a soft moan. Frankie lets his mouth leave yours and instead sucks a mark into your neck, the soft tip of his tongue coming out to taste the goosebumps his scraping teeth leaves behind. 

He pulls away enough to pull the t-shirt over your head and you reach out to tug off his shirt too, to be honest, it stinks, as does yours, they both end up on the floor. His skin is still tanned and golden from the day you spent on the boat, his freckles sprinkled over his shoulders and chest and before he claims your skin again, you lean forward and smooth your hands over the wide expanse of his shoulders. Frankie’s hands are stroking your back, up into your hair, letting his nails scrape along your scalp as you pull him closer and trail wet kisses between his freckles. His skin tastes like salt and dust, the unwashed cotton of his t-shirt leaving its own scent, but underneath you can still smell him. You can feel his throat hum when your lips move up over his Adam's apple and into his scruffy beard, nosing against the sweet bare patches that never fill in. 

“Do I stink, cariño,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice and you nod, letting your lips wander down along his throat again, your hands slipping down over his chest. 

“You taste like salt and smell like sweat,” you murmur into his skin, enjoying the warmth that’s radiating from him, the stillness in the apartment and the calm that comes from being safe and having time. And you take your time, Frankie standing still between your legs, his hands in your hair, letting your fingertips map out a path between his freckles that you follow with your mouth. Tasting him slowly, your tongue slipping over his skin, the pebbles on his throat, the hollow just at the base. You test the give of his flesh, biting lightly like you always do, until he hums with pleasure, egging you on to bite down harder. Your mouth finds a soft spot, just beneath his collar bone, and your tongue caresses it. When the pads of your fingers drag across his dark nipples as your teeth graze his skin, biting down, he hums again, a hushed moan at the back of his throat. The sound, his soft little whine, sends a shiver down your spine, making you grip your legs around his narrow hips, heat pooling in your core and you let your fingers slip down his soft belly until you find the coarse trail of dark hair that leads down under his jeans. 

He lets you undo his belt and buttons, the zipper coming down as you cup your hand over the bulge in his tight boxers. 

“Cariño,” he groans, your fingers tracing the outline of his hard cock as his breath stutters, “fuck, that feels good…” he drops into the crook of your neck, his mouth breathing hot air over your skin as you continue to tease him through the warm cotton. His hands have been kneading your hips through the denim of your jeans but now he moves them onto your thighs, stroking his thumbs up along the inside towards your core and up to your belt, tugging at it. He makes quick work of it even when he has to stop and groan as your fingers become more firm around him. You lift your hips and he pushes your jeans down your legs, cursing as they catch on your boots. 

“Take them off, Frankie,” you say, palming his heavy length again, pulling a deep growl from him as he bites down on your shoulder, making you whine and squeeze him in response. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling away and crouching down to untie your laces, quickly pulling each boot off, letting your jeans fall on the floor before he kicks off his own boots and jeans. 

“Counter or bed?” he asks, pulling your legs around his waist again, his hard length pushed up against your wet folds. 

“We’re not gonna last long enough to get to the bed,” you say and he grins, seeking out your mouth as he feels your fingers wrap around his cock and give it a few firm strokes, letting the precum coat the blunt head. 

“Probably not, I’m-” Frankie’s reply gets stuck in his throat as he groans, his hips thrusting into your hand of their own accord. “Fuck, that feels good, hermosa,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your grip.

Guiding him right you look down between your bodies to watch as he pushes in, the stretch making you clench hard around him. He growls, a low rumbling in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips, the slick heat coating his aching hard cock and he feels your pussy pulse around him as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull his mouth to yours. When he starts to move his hips hips he has to squeeze his eyes shut, he wants to fuck you hard, built up tension making his body want to chase release too fast. But you’re just as greedy, he can feel it, your heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer with every thrust of his hips. Your lips slip from his and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, clinging to his shoulders as he slams deep. Every time he bottoms out he grinds against your aching clit, the wiry curls at the base of him slipping across it, making you gasp out hot air over his chest. 

“Frankie…” you moan, “harder…please…I’m so clo..ose,” the last syllable comes out as a whine as he plants his feet firm on the kitchen floor, his hands grabbing handfuls of flesh and slamming into your, pushing you up against the cupboard with a panted groan.

“Fuck, so good…” Frankie pants, “feels so good, I won’t…” 

He has to bite his lip to stop himself from coming, pistoning into you and listening to your whimpering as he hits the right spot. Your nails dig into his back, your teeth scrape across his shoulder as you seize up and cry out, your high hitting you as he grinds deep into your tight heat. The spasm of your cunt around his aching cock, deep inside you, pushes him over the edge. With a growl he pulls you in even tighter, pushing your hips onto his cock, emptying deep inside as he shivers under the onslaught.

You tilt your head back, breathing heavily as your body relaxes around him. He drops his head forward and your arms come up and cradle him against your chest, pressing kisses to the top of his head as stillness falls over you both, the only sound your breathing, as you slowly calm down.

Later, after showers with soap and shampoo, he carries you to the bedroom and places you naked on the bed and kneels by your thighs. If the first time together after a week traveling was rushed and chasing relief, now it’s slow and calm. A soft bed again, a door to close and lock, no one nearby and no need to stand guard. Frankie does what he loves best, he pushes your legs open with his calloused hands and makes himself at home between them, making you whimper his name while his cock aches under him. As your body arches up and you cry out, he pins you down, buries his tongue inside you, and begs you to let him make you come again and again. 

When you finally fall asleep, the sheets are already ruined, your thighs covered in your release and his seed, Frankie’s sweat damp curls a messy halo around his head, the taste of you on his tongue. With your face nestled in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm, he pulls the covers over you both and holds you close with his arms circled around you. When you hook your leg over his, he feels like he should simply stay here always, never leave this bed again. Your nose against his throat, warm breath slipping over his chest, your soft waist under his arms and he feels your body rise and fall in a steady rhythm. 

He has to keep you safe. 

“I talked to Joel yesterday,” Will says one evening, a few weeks after you’ve all arrived in Boston. “He’s been looking into trading around the QZ, talked to some of the people selling stuff to see who’s moving what.” 

Frankie and you have joined Will, Benny and Pope in their apartment, continuing your routine of sharing dinners. Tonight it’s your turn to cook and Frankie’s helping you chop up the vegetables while you try to season the rice with what little is available. 

“I invited him and Tommy over tonight, after dinner, to see what they have to say, seems Joel’s keen to get into smuggling, they used to do it in the Austin QZ.” Will says, putting down bowls on the kitchen table and knocking Benny’s feet off it at the same time, “Get your stinky, fucking socks off the table, Benjamin.” 

“Do you know why they left Austin?” you ask, turning to Will, who’s scowling at his younger brother.

“Tommy got friendly with a group of people who were convinced things were better up north and wanted to join them. Joel said he tagged along to keep an eye on Tommy,” Will replies and Benny nods.  “Seems they had a pretty rough journey,” he says, “they lost most of the group, stopped in some QZ:s along the way, moved on when FEDRA got too oppressive or the smuggling got too dangerous.”

“So everyone in the group died until it was only them left?” you ask, seems like you guy got off easy in your journey if that’s how bad it’d been for Joel and Tommy.. 

“No, they left a few behind in Pittsburgh,” Will says, “Tommy said two of the guys found partners there, one of them had a kid, another one was fed up with running, wanted to take down FEDRA there. Thanks, man.” he sits down at the table and accepts a glass of whiskey from Pope. “I think Tommy wanted to do the same but Joel thought it was a bad idea and got Tommy to leave. They were heading to New York but ran into some trouble and decided it’d be safer to go further north.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Pope asks, “New York seems to be the logical choice if you’re leaving Pittsburgh.” 

“I didn’t ask,” Will says, shaking his head, “seemed to be a sore point with Joel so I didn’t push it.” 

You put the pot of stew on the table and everyone sits down, “So the plan is to start up the way we did in New York?” you ask, “And maybe avoid pissing off any local gangs?” 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Will nods with a crooked grin, “Joel seemed to have some ideas so maybe he’s heard something about what’s going on.”

Joel does have plenty of ideas you realize when he and Tommy turn up an hour later. Tommy’s been asking around and there’s a couple of people to approach if you’re looking for something not available with ration cards. But Joel’s been more direct, he’s found a route to get outside and tested it, venturing far outside the wall and picking up the rifles and ammo you left out there. He’s also made a connection with the man who runs the private radio in the QZ and figured out which FEDRA soldiers have what weaknesses and who can be exploited for those weaknesses. 

“How’d you find out all that,” Will asks as Pope and Frankie exchange a worried glance. 

“Asked the right people in the right way,” Joel grunts, stretching out his long legs as he leans back on the couch. 

“What do you mean, ‘the right way’?” 

Joel eyes Will for a few seconds before he responds, “I ask and make sure they know they need to tell the truth;” he says, his tone curt and crossing his arms over his chest, his face closed off, it’s like watching a shutter come down the way he clenches his jaw tight. There’s a menacing tone to his voice that makes you shudder when he says it and by the way Frankie tilts his head and shoots a quick glance at Pope, you know you’re not the only one who picked up on it. 

“Joel, you know I’ve been smuggling for years,” Will says, “We’ve got to be more subtle or FEDRA’s gonna catch on and we haven’t got any protection in place yet.”

“That’s what I’m getting us,” Joel says, “protection. And, speaking of protection,” he looks over at Frankie, he’s sitting next to you as usual, with his arm over your shoulder, “you two can’t go on runs together, you don’t prioritize right when she’s with you and it puts the rest of us in danger.” 

“Joel,” Benny interjects, he can see Frankie’s hackles rising, “we came all the way from Arlington and it was never an issue, Fish’s got everyones’ back.” 

“She nearly got us killed yesterday,” Joel growls, “because he wasn’t paying attention to covering us, only her. No offense, darlin’,” he says, looking over at you and you’ve never felt less like someone’s ‘darlin’ with the way he’s looking at you, “I’m sure you can handle yourself, but I ain’t working with you and Frankie together when it’s plain as daylight who his first priority is.” Joel shifts his look over to Frankie before he lands on Will, “He’d try to save her even if it was hopeless, he’s too focused on her.” 

“Well, I guess that’s us out then, Will,” Frankie growls just as low as Joel in response, “because I’m not letting her go out on a run without me.” 

“She’s a good shot and a great look out, Joel,” Pope interjects, looking at you and giving you a small smile, “I’d work with her any day. And Fish, I trust him with my life,” Pope looks over at Joel again, “we need both of them.”

“Like I said,” Joel is standing up, getting ready to leave, “I’m sure she can handle herself and I know Frankie’s as skilled as any of you guys, but I don’t trust them together, she makes him unfocused and I ain’t risking my life for it.” 

Frankie opens his mouth to snarl something, but Will’s quick nod at him makes him snap his mouth shut while Tommy stands up and joins Joel at the door. 

“Thanks for the whiskey, see y'all tomorrow,” he says, giving a wave as Joel disappears out the door and he follows, an uncomfortable silence falling over the room when they’re gone. You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes on your hands and you feel Frankie’s fingers flex around your shoulder. He inhales and opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. 

“I’ll just stay behind, you need Frankie more than me,” you say to the room, “and you need Joel more than me.” 

“Cariño, fuck him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Frankie says, squeezing you under his arm but you shake your head. 

“He’s got a point, who would you save first, him or me?” You’re looking at Frankie and you can see in his eyes that he knows full well you’d be the first one he’d save, and you’d do the same for him. You hadn’t seen it until Joel put his finger on it, but your bond puts everyone else in danger. 

“It’s never been an issue, hermana,” Santi says from his corner of the couch, “we’re not in the army anymore, different rules apply and we adapt around it. Will would save Benny first if he had to choose.” 

“But Frankie doesn’t even want me going on smuggling runs,” you say, “I had to twist his arm to let me come,” Frankie’s eyes are pained when he meets yours, “You would rather I stayed behind and be safe.” 

He sighs, running his hand over his neck, “Yeah, I would, you know I hate the thought of you getting hurt, or worse.”

“So I won’t go anymore,” you shrug, pretending it doesn’t bother you, and stand up, getting ready to leave, “If I’m with you on a run your focus will be on me, and I know you won’t let me go with someone else. It’s just better if I don’t go at all.” You know Frankie isn’t fighting you on this because it’s what he wants, he’s trying to hide it but you see relief in his eyes as he gets up to join you. The other men remain silent, Benny opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, closing it again as he stands up. He surprises you with one of his signature bear hugs instead. 

“I’d have you on my team any day,” he mutters close to your ear as his arms crush you to his chest, “fuck Joel.” His support makes you smile and you give him an extra squeeze before letting go. 

You’re subdued when you get back to your own apartment and Frankie hovers in the living room as you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You know him well enough after all these years to know what he’s doing, and when he comes in and leans on the door frame, watching your evening routine, you know he’s getting ready to speak after sorting the words in his head. 

“Cariño,” he begins, his hand shooting up and rubbing across his neck, “I can’t pretend like I won’t be calmer if you’re here, safe, instead of out dealing with FEDRA patrols, raiders and infected and all the other shit. Joel’s right, when we’re out there, I’m always focused on you, and I’m always worried about you, in a way I never was when it was just me and the guys on missions in the army or doing runs with Pope in Arlington.” He’s gripping the door frame, grinding his fingers into the wood as he speaks, his eyes seeking yours in the mirror as you continue to brush your teeth. When you look at him he takes a tentative step towards you, his hand coming out and resting on the small of your back, as if he wants to circle your waist and pull you close, but he’s not sure how you’ll react yet. “I know you wanna come with me too, I know you worried about me when I went out with Pope, but it’ll be different now, I’ll be with Will and Ben too, we’ll be able to handle anything, it won’t be as dangerous as before.” 

You spit the toothpaste out and rinse your mouth before meeting his eyes in the mirror, “I hate it,” you say, giving your head a small shake, “the idea of you being out there, in danger, I fucking hate it.” 

“I know,” Frankie says softly, his arm coming all the way around your waist and you lean into him. 

“If you don’t come back, I’m coming after you, you know that right?” you whisper into his chest. 

“I’ll come back, I promise I’ll always come back.” He’s turning you so that he’s got you pressed against him, his arms around you and holding you tight as he drops his head against the top of yours. 

“You can’t promise that, Frankie.” 

“Watch me,” he mumbles, “Just fucking watch me.” 

Chapter 29

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

[ratsoh-writes]

Hey y’all! Say hello to

Ebott~

Or at least the first wip of the ebott map! I have all the main (above ground) locations so far!

For those who are wondering, dark brown is rocky hilly land/cliff sides, rusty brown is mountain ranges, khaki is grassland, green is forest, and light tan is beaches obviously lol. I don’t think I need to say what the blue areas represent.

I’ll add descriptions of each landmark below the next picture.

Alright starting from left to right:

Atlantis: home of the hadal monsters, the majority of this city is underwater, but some of it is accessible through the cliffs of bluefin island as well as floating buildings anchored to the shallower ocean around the island. The majority of Atlantis city houses its people in the curved section of the ocean trench by bluefin island. The buildings are carved into the rock.

Seashore: ebotts second largest beach town, seashore is a beautiful place where the majority of ebotts fishing trade takes place. It’s a popular vacation spot more for ebotts residents, but it does get some tourism too during holiday season.

Echo hills: the southernmost city of ebott, echo hills is a small city surrounded by grassy farmland. Due to the location, the place is raining more than not, and is perfect for crops that need lots of water! Echo hills is best known for its rice, producing just enough to sustain ebott.

Remembrance: located to the west on wells island, remembrance town houses one of the maintained entrances to the connected underground’s. It is also the point where the famine monsters were found and rescued. Here the royals placed the memorial of those left behind. Massive stone statues carved all over with the names of family who died underground or were left behind in the crash surround the caves entrance. A small town of monsters maintain the area, and some livestock are raised there as well.

The great dam: exactly what the name suggests, it’s just ebotts biggest dam. It’s part of the national forest so only a handful of maintenance workers and rangers actually live there. The dam is connected to waterfall lake.

The national forest entrance: this is the official way to see the national park, and access the maintained trails. Most of the park rangers live near here as well. There’s a small tourist trap too selling gift items, and farther up is a hunting lodge that opens during open season.

The Temple: located right in the middle of ebott, the actual temple building sits on top of three large mountains near kidney lake. The temple houses ebotts history and is a popular tourist spot. It also houses one of the maintained entrances to the underground, connected to some of the upper levels of waterfall.

NEW EBOTT: the largest city of ebott, and the capital of the county. New ebott has it all! The education, entertainment, shopping and jobs! And of course all the important big government buildings are here as well as most of the royals! New ebott is the only city connected to all the railroads and has the largest airport.

Rails Way: a city surrounding an important train stop, rails way is the in between rest stop between Portland and new ebott. Besides the trains passing through, it also is where trucks in ebott are made and fixed for the most part. There’s a few other factories in the city as well, like a few metal processing plants.

Metta Land: north to new ebott, this is basically a theme park, mega mall, and Hollywood all rolled into one spot. Metta land is so big that there’s even a few villages around it where its employees live. It also houses the only man/monster made entrance to the underground, going straight to hotland of course. What happens in metta land stays in metta land

Portland: this is the second biggest city of ebott located on the east. Almost all trade ships stop here. Portland is a bustling business city full of factories, and has a few houses of education too! It also houses most of ebotts navy and has the second largest airport.

Cape resort: located on the southern rocky cliffs, cape resort is in fact not a resort. It’s rocky, cold and generally horrible to live in if you’re not an aquatic monster lol. However it has an oil rig. Lots of hadal and sea monsters live there maintaining that oil rig.

New hope: new hope is a beautiful mountain town housing the entrance to snowdin, the largest entrance to the underground. It gets the largest amount of tourists year round and is a popular ski location during the winters as well. The parts of new hope that aren’t for tourists are mostly farmland or forests put aside for logging. Plenty of vineyards are in this area

Ridgeside factory: Ridgeside factory is ebotts main power plant and is directly connected to the core in hotland as well. It’s surrounded by a few villages too where more outdoorsy monsters live. Those who don’t work at the factory are either from hotland or are miners. The mountains in the area are littered with natural caverns being used as mine entrances

Golden valley city: the golden valley refers to the surrounding farmland, but in the very middle of it is the golden valley city. It is a rural type of place, is where the majority of ebotts produce passes through before being sold, and is a huge art center of the country. Just about everything above ground is grown in the valley surrounding the city.

Steeler city, the third largest city of ebott, steeler is where golden valley ships their produce to be preserved and spread around the rest of the country. Steeler is full of factories and restaurants. The most famous eating places of ebott are located here!

Crimson gate bridge: it’s a massive bridge named after the Golden Gate Bridge in California. This bridge is actually a sunny gold color, but they named it crimson in fear of being called copycats

Corncopia: a third farming community located between the split between white water river, ebotts biggest river. Corncopia is absolutely gorgeous but space is limited so it’s a fight to get any land there. The prime spots are taken by the rich for their homes or by the big wig farmers who cemented their place when the country was first forming

Not listed on the map is the underground! Ebott still has all the underground chambers from when the monsters were sealed away. New entrances to the underground are being discovered each day, and still plenty of monsters live there, preferring the comfort of a home they knew from before. Since there no longer trapped inside, the underground has become pretty comfortable. At least the discovered parts are ;)

I’ll describe the three main areas from smallest to largest

Hotland: hotland is really only a small thin chunk of the underground. A long but thin lake of lava surrounded by rocky chambers makes up the areas of hotland. The most popular spot of course is hotland city, connected to metta land, it’s pretty much the Vegas of ebott these days. The less visited spot, core, is a small town housing the core, connected to Ridgeside factory, and housing several research centers.

Snowdin. Snowdin is actual just the name of the small quaint town close to the underground entrance in new hope. They have year round skiing, and a pretty boat ride through waterfall straight to hotland for tourists. The outskirts of snowdin however have several villages filled with farmers growing magical crops that thrive in the cold temperatures.

Waterfall: it’s estimated that nearly 80% of the underground chambers are waterfall lands. Humid, cool but not frigid, and filled with varying levels of fresh and salt water, waterfall is underneath the majority of ebott, and even extends into the ocean some. Almost all of ebotts magical crops are grown down in the lived in parts of waterfall. It’s because of this area that ebott is self sufficient in feeding its people. Waterfall also houses the fourth and fifth largest cities of ebott; New Shell and Lily pad Fields.

Whew! That was a lot! I’ll probably add more to the map later on, but I think this is good for now

[sileaz]

Gemstone ✦ J.F.

✦ Jesper Fahey x Fem! Lantsov! Reader

━━━━━ ( SYNOPSIS. ) Your monotonous life as the youngest Lantsov takes an unexpected turn when, one evening, you come face to face with a man⏤ "a Crow," he insists⏤who seems determined to steal a mysterious jewel. 

5K words ✦ Fluff

In a distant province, at the crossroads of several lands—Fjerda to the north and Shu Han to the south—stood a kingdom both adored and despised: Ravka. The few lonely souls, strangers to this land, who wished to cross its borders had to face the dark horror of the fold or the unpredictability of the True Sea when you did not come from the East.

If, luckily, your feet managed to tread the paved ground of the capital, Os Alta, then your gaze would be instantly drawn to the castle overlooking the city. It dominated the land, its tallest tower almost touching the sun as it was high in the sky, sending shade over the streets which, observed from above, took the form of a gigantic star. In the outer area, where peasants and simple souls lived, the houses piled up in a dancing procession of bricks, roofs, and whimsical walls. Small, large, squares, long… none were similar. Each house seemed to have been carefully shaped by the own hands of those who lived behind its walls.

One needed to venture into the heart of the city for the buildings to become more structured, losing their charm but gaining in size and prestige. Colours also disappeared, replaced by the monotonous grey of the stone, sometimes adorned with the shine of gold but without ever provoking in the retina of the passers-by a flamboyant explosion similar to those triggered by the peripheric villages. The Ravkan elite were jealous of the beautiful sight they sometimes saw on their way out of the city, separated in their carriages.  

Flowers.

They covered the villages. At every corner of the streets, of the houses, the flowers decorated and coloured the hamlets with a palette of hues which could be seen nowhere else. They were an ode to greenery, colour, and joy. Its inhabitants spent their days telling each other the news of the day without worrying about the horrors that this world had to offer. It was as if the Fold had not touched them. Perhaps they wished to hide all the fear that poverty and the uncertainty of tomorrow could bring in this blooming spectacle.  

Roses, hydrangeas, cornflowers, honeysuckles, lilies… all were there, adding their colours to the great and ubiquitous floral harmony, which Os Alta’s centre could only envy, as did the prettiest flower in the kingdom, trapped in the colour-and-flowerless castle. Lovely, radiant, delicate; she was a bud still waiting to be picked.

For gilding blinds the sorrow, no one knew that, enclosed in the top of her golden tower—the highest in the castle—her petals were fading one by one. Slowly. Painfully.

The sound of the piano resonated the room. It was heard, it was understood and appreciated. It made itself understood by all those present except by the person who played it. You could see your fingers moving with grace and delicacy. You were not feeling the music, you were enduring it. For you, this was not a melody, it could not possibly become one. Those were only sounds; sounds without any poetry, nor any meaning.

In the middle of this symphony, suddenly, a false note.A false note that sounded better than a note perfectly played. A false note that reminded you that nothing could be perfect — despite what your mother endeavoured herself to tell you. You wanted to smile, smile at the joy that this mistake had caused you. But you held back, keeping your back straight, your gaze fixed on the music sheet and its lines stained with shapes, of which you understood only a quarter.

“Start again.”

The voice was carried away by the draught, but nevertheless, it reached your ears: a low voice, a firm tone—annoyance. Just like that, your hands began to move again, to move to the rhythm of the notes, without any fault. The sound escaped from the strings pinched by the hammers, encompassing the room in a musical trance in which you did not participate. Your gestures, alike that of a puppet controlled by strings, stopped abruptly when, at last, the final three notes resonated several minutes later.

“You’ll play it until it reaches perfection. It is out of the question to pass for fools because of you at the gala.”

“Yes, mother.”

Receiving a positive comment from your genetrix was impossible. This lack of acknowledgment hurt you more than you wanted to admit, but no one knew about this. Your mother—the Queen—had, after all, done an exceptional job when she had taught you the art of hiding your emotions.

“A dignified queen must always appear in control of the situation, even if she is not.”

“A respectable queen must not let her emotions supplant her wisdom. They are detrimental and useless.”

These sentences were simple excerpts that made up the long list of manners you had to learn. For your parents, most specifically your mother, these were the most important thing to remember. They had focused on instructing their values. They had tried to turn you into their perfect little pet. They had not noticed how they had deprived you of freedom. They had grown attached to perfection, even more than to their own daughter.

These pieces of advice had fixed themselves in your mind. You didn’t let any feelings appear. Never an ounce of fear, anger, sadness could be seen on your face. Never once you questioned this method. Never once you thought that, perhaps, humankind needed it. Never once you thought that perhaps, it was vital for humans to show their emotions.

The most painful thing was to see that this did not apply to your brothers. Nikolai had been allowed to travel at sea, becoming a privateer guided by the wind. Vasily, when he was alive, had had the chance to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh, alcohol, life.

The sound of many steps, followed by one of a closing door was the warning signal to drop this mask that had become too heavy for you; this illusion of a model princess, the worthy heir to the throne of Ravka. The citizens thought they had a strong woman in front of them, ready to lead their destiny to glory as your father had tried and failed to do.

They were wrong.

You were none of that. Sometimes, your thoughts would take you on a journey into a parallel world, a world in which royalty did not flow through your veins, a world in which luxury was only one thing you could dream of.

You stood still for a while, staring at those black and white keys; these keys that contradicted the saying, “life is not just black or white.” And it was true. Life was not reduced to two side. Life was an expanse of hues, unique to each individual. Most people had a colourful expanse, similar to the various flowers adorning the village’s streets. Some, more melancholic, held an expanse of dark tones, as dark as the Fold. You, however, had only ever experienced an expanse of grey. Your life had taken the form of a repetitive and boring rhythm, a rhythm that did not make you sing, a rhythm that did not make you dance, a rhythm that made you want to sit on a chair and stay motionless.

Resuming touch with reality, you looked around. Only silence answered you. No maid, no valet, but most of all, no mother, something that relaxed you. Your shoulders, until then tensed, fell back into their natural place, just like the curvature of your back, until then so straight that it had made you feel acute pain in your kidneys.

It was a routine you cherished, that of being able to remove for a few moments this mask of the perfect student, to be able to cut the puppet’s strings. The unfortunate thing, and above all the most painful, however, was knowing that these threads and this mask would control you again in a few hours. Oh, how much you hated this life. If only you could run away, your existence would immediately become simpler. You envied criminals and their lawless world. No more responsibilities, no more orders, no more parents and their lack of empathy. Nothing more than freedom.

How beautiful it was to dream...

You waited for a few moments, finding solace in this silence which, while some might have described it as deafening, differed so much from the sound of this damned piano. That was maybe why you thought of it as beautiful. Standing up was a difficult task to achieve; no matter the season, day, time, your maids persisted in covering your body with the most delicate fabrics and intriguing knots, the beauty of the outfit had always prevailed over comfort, forcing you to keep a smile on your face while your chest was constantly compressed.

When, finally, you headed for your quarters, walking with a steady and assured step, you admired the windows and the beautiful landscape they offered you. The sunset had been magnificent and the moon, almost full, had risen, pouring its silvery light over the plain, the mountain and the mounds that rose here and there.

During your journey among the huge corridors empty of any presence, you observed the bindings of the walls for which you could not pretend care. The people your mother and brothers invited, governors, diplomats from neighbouring lands, were ecstatic at every detail of these walls, floors. They admired the finesse with which the sculptor had carved the stones, the candlesticks covered in gold and the precision of the carpenter who had created the dressers.

All you could see was bricks, candles, and wood. Nothing less, nothing more. There was nothing worth babbling in admiration, after all, it was obvious that these people possessed excessive castles and other dwellings adorned with the same, if not better, attributes. It was only the result of the sheer hypocrisy in which the court of the king, your father, had bathed. Among this crowd, all wanted to be thought highly of, thus laughing falsely at every word, before criticizing those with whom they had just discussed.

However, you were careful to not share your observations with these people, who would laugh with contempt at each of your words, wondering how such an ungrateful and uneducated girl would become the queen.

The castle was plunged into darkness with one exception; on the stones the yellow glow of the still illuminated candlesticks glowed. Your hands caressed the soft fabric of your white silk dress out of sheer nervousness. The wind was howling, crashing against the windows and trees. Chills ran down your spine. The grip on the fabric not loosening, you picked up the pace, hoping to get to your room as soon as possible. Something was terrifying about being alone in this vastness.

Your trembling pupils grew larger as the candlelight dimmed. You felt that the temperature of the castle had suddenly dropped, your whole body beginning to shiver. The silence that you had enjoyed earlier had been broken, disturbed by whispers, footsteps that seemed to become louder. Passing by the throne room, your whole body froze when your eye caught something abnormal.

The door was ajar.

That had never happened before, you were sure of it. In all the moments that made up your miserable life, never had you seen this door open at night. The castle guards made sure to lock it every night, before beginning their rounds. This room was only open to the public on very rare occasions; even yourself could count on your fingers the number of times your feet had treaded the tiled floor. Of course, the gala was approaching fast, but why start preparations in the middle of the night? It was complete nonsense.

Deciding that it would be a wise decision to check what was going on, you approached the carved and gilded door, full of apprehension.

You did not believe in all the nonsense that the old madwoman of the village uttered all day long, this lady whom all the inhabitants had praised for her talents as an oracle. There was nothing more ridiculous than thinking of having power over the future yet so uncertain and anything else mystical. However, and as much as you hated to admit it, as you stood, ready to open that door, you could only trust your instinct. Something didn’t feel right.

Trembling, your fingers wrapped themselves around one of the handles, ready to push it to glimpse inside. With your gaze fixed on your action, it was impossible for you to notice the human silhouette that merged with yours.

“Hello there.”

A bloodcurdling scream resonated in the castle. Yours.

“Shush, princess. It would be a shame to get caught. Don’t you think?”

A hand was pressed against your mouth, forcing you to swallow back your protests. Pupils trembling, heart beating fast, your first reaction was to struggle. Your assailant took the blows without flinching as if your kicks were just a caress. Many tears flowed down your cheeks. Fear slowly crept into your veins, like a snake crawling through a deserted forest, not wanting to be spotted by potential prey. 

The only exception being that, here, you were the prey.

What was going to happen to you? Was this how your life was going to end, at the hands of a criminal? The latter loosened his grip on your waist, but while you saw an opportunity to escape, your ambitions were completely destroyed when he, instead, imprisoned your wrists. The man pulled you into the room with him before closing the door, which you were sure awoke the whole castle.

"Sorry princess, but I need you to stay quiet a little longer.”

A candle was lit, illuminating the face of the man who would surely be responsible for your death. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight of man. Tall and graceful, his features exuded a mix mischievousness and innocence—what a joke, you thought. A slight mocking but sweet smile was addressed to you. A smile so beautiful it must have been carved by the sun itself. He was beautiful, even ethereal. Never had your father’s pretenders reached the level of beauty you were now facing. His curly black hair fell before dark eyes, sparkling of malice. Bowing, he grabbed your hand to lay a kiss on it, a gift from his pink and thin lips.

"My name is Jesper, princess. It is an honour to meet the one who makes the entire kingdom swoon,” he winked.  

“The honour is not mutual. Unhand me at this instant, thief.”

“Ouch, careful with your words, princess! I’m not a thief. I’m a Crow,” he insisted.

You had heard about this name. Nikolai had mentioned it in one of his many letters. You could not remember the exact term he had used to describe them, but there was no doubt that crime was a byword for it.

It was just your luck to be faced with a member of one of the Ketterdam gangs.

For the first time in many months, a dose of adrenaline rushed in your veins. For the first time in many years, the excitement of being a part of an adventure—even though you were the victim — rushed in your veins. For the first time in your life, you felt alive.

You were pathetic, you knew it, walking into the lion's den so simply. Perhaps it was because you so desperately wished to live and feel, even fear. Perhaps it was because he had been the only one in several years to speak to you with a semblance of emotions in his voice, even if it was malice. This tone changed from the contemptuous one used by all those with whom you had been forced to converse.

This man, you did not know him, had just spoken to you as a normal person, if we ignored the excessive use of “princess.” So, yes, maybe this man—a strange character—, who had just broken in the castle if we were to judge the dust on his hands and face, should have been reported to the guards from the moment his hand had met yours… That should have been his destiny, yes, but you could not bring yourself to do it.  

“I demand you to immediately let go of my hand, sir,” you repeated, for he had seemed deaf to your order the first time.

He did so, but not without caressing your skin which he found to be as soft as a plum. The harmonious features that made up your face were royal, worthy of a queen. You were one of the most beautiful sculptures of beauty, a faithful allegory of the saints. Jesper could not look away from your figure. He found your beauty almost poetic as it told a story. On your skin, he saw the expression line caused by excessive and forced laughter. In your eyes, he could see the redness caused by repressed tears. The image you sent back was that of a masterpiece of celestial and melancholy.

All these rumours, those which spoke of an heiress with beauty as pure as a Saint were true.

After straightening his posture, the shooter dusted off his clothes. This particular gesture caused you to draw your attention to them. The black suit adorning his body made you frown, confirming your thoughts. An outfit like this had no place in this castle.

"Who are you, and what is the reason for your presence here, sir?”

A smile lit up his face as he approached you—making your breath hitch at the same time. What a strange man, you thought. He didn’t seem to care about anything, not even the fact that a single word coming out of your mouth could lead him to death. His step was light, giving the impression that he was floating rather than walking. With one hand, he grabs a strand of your hair, wriggling it around his index finger. Two mischievous eyes met yours.

To say you were surprised at this closeness with a stranger was an understatement. Wanting to keep you pure for your husband, your mother had strictly forbidden you to approach men, no matter their age, without a chaperone. Since childhood, your thoughts had been occupied by the responsibilities of being queen, the future that awaited you, never had you had time to find a moment to let your imagination flow to men. This land was totally unknown for you.

That’s why you didn't understand what was happening to you.

Why had your heart suddenly started to beat wildly when the scents of tobacco and musk, an exquisite combination, had reached your senses?

“I already told you,” a sly smile appeared on his face, “The name’s Jesper. The prettiest member of the Crows. As for my presence here… I am looking for a particular object, a gemstone if I may add.” He refrained from saying more. Kaz would kill him.

It was as if someone had just poured a bucket full of ice water on your body. A grimace formed on your face, a face that, you hated to admit, when you were angered, took on features that were known to belong to your mother. Your hand abruptly put an end to his touch by pulling his finger out of your hair. Two steps backwards were taken before an accusatory finger was pointed towards him.

"If you think I will let you steal my brother’s crown or his sceptre, then you’re absolutely wrong. You must leave before I warn the guards about your arrival and how you manhandled me.” 

“It won’t be necessary, sweetheart,” he replied, starting once again to play with your hair. He admired for a few moments the strands against which his fingers were slipping, they shone so much that he could have confused them with silk. You swatted his hand away, huffing. This man was slowly but surely pissing you off. "The gemstone will already be too far away for it to be recovered.”

Impossible. The guards had been chosen amongst the bravest and strongest men in Ravka. It was not a wretched criminal—his clothes made him look like one—that was going to counter that. He was alone, there were dozens of them. You shared your thoughts with him, scoffing at how ridiculous and overconfident he sounded.

"What is this jewel, anyway?” you went on, annoyance slowly increasing. “It must be small if you think its disappearance will not be noticed.”

He imprisoned between his long fingers your chin, which he directed upwards, before plunging his gaze into yours. His pupils were unstable, constantly going back and forth on your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your hair… 

You were really beautiful, ethereal even, he thought. 

This man—that you had never heard of—was watching, even scrutinizing you, so intensely that you broke the eye contact, embarrassed. With his simple glance, the man had just sent the immeasurable number of lessons given by your mother flying. Even if it was impossible to hide the erratic beat of your heart and the warmth of your cheeks, you tried to maintain a neutral expression.

The words he articulated were spoken in a soft but mischievous voice, in the same tone that someone who would have taken to tell a secret.

"It’s the most beautiful gemstone in the kingdom. It is said that its beauty exceeds that of a pure diamond. Many wish to make it theirs; hypnotized at the thought of seeing this mysterious treasure with their own eyes. It is however inaccessible, enclosed between the walls of this castle. Only the most reckless tried to overcome this obstacle, but no one had succeeded. No one until me.”

"I… I am… not sure I understand what you may be talking about, Mr. Jesper.” Your voice was trembling, by the Saints, why was it trembling?

He shrugged, reassuring you that you would soon understand what his words meant. Looking around, assessing the room in which you were both still standing, his gaze finally landed on a small door at the back, next to the imposing throne. You swallowed when you understood where his eyes were focused. In this room was the wanted gemstone, worth millions of kruge. If by misfortune, this Jesper, whoever he was, managed to gain access to this room, your mother would have his head and yours with it.

"You cannot do that.” The façade you were trying to keep intact was starting to crack, its bases weakening at each of his words. It would collapse soon, for sure. Nevertheless, you had to hold it together until he was no longer in front of you. It was out of the question for him to see how his mere presence was managing to destabilize you.

"It isn’t in there. Though I might have to return one day. I could use some diamonds or even rubies. I’m not picky. Both suit my complexion, he sassed.”

What a boor!

The way he behaved triggered in you a fire that was increasingly becoming more difficult to contain. You were bubbling with anger. Didn’t this man understand what his presence here meant? Didn’t he understand how dangerous it was for him, for you? Frowning, fists clenched so strongly that your nails had made crescent shapes appear in your palms, you tried to stay calm. However, something in you snapped when he had the nerve to laugh.

"Get out! I said get out!”

Your cry was so loud that he recoiled several steps, his hands held up.

“Wow, calm down princess.”

The feeling of having your face on fire becoming disagreeable, you breathed slowly, a hand on it to calm you down. The beating of your heart resonating in your ears, you did not hear the few patting that sounded strangely like footsteps. It was only when the thief approached you, catching your hand in his, that you did realize the threat that was advancing faster and faster, always getting a little closer to its prey. You two.

Suddenly, many sounds of metal friction were heard in the silence of the castle, before shouted orders resonated, they had been pronounced so precisely that they could only be uttered by those who regularly surveyed these grounds.

The guards.

Your wide eyes crossed those of the man. The latter, frightened, stared in front of him, a hand on the holster on his belt, trying to determinate how long it would take these men to reach you. By the sound of their armours, it would not take long. Shaking his head, his thoughts converged in the same direction: he had to protect you—you were precious cargo, after all. Not that you knew.

Kaz would have his head if he were to scuttle the heist.  

A profanity was muttered; it being a word you couldn’t even bear pictured in your thoughts. Without you being able to understand what was going on, your body found itself placed without any delicacy on a shoulder clad in black clothes.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’m a renowned gentleman in Ketterdam.”  

“Ketterdam?!”

Jesper began to run at full speed to one of the nearest windows, mysteriously already opened. He must have broken in through here, you concluded. Looking behind him, the man hurried to jump off the ledge when his eyes caught sight of the armed men’s horde dressed in armour.

Ignoring your screams, and the blows your little fists dealt to his back, he reaffirmed his grip on you before jumping, trying his best to protect you as much as possible from the impact.

The flower field softened your landing.

The eyes that you had closed under fear began to filter the moonlight again. The incomprehension could be seen on your face. If he had had the intelligence to steal his oh so precious gemstone and leave without a word, everything would have gone well. It wouldn’t have been difficult for you to make up a lie about your presence in this room.

After all, lies were nothing new to you, they were constantly spilling from your lips. “Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’m glad to be here. Yes, I can’t wait to become the queen.” Finding an alibi would have been a breeze and would have allowed the thief to escape safely. But, in the name of the Saints! Why did he drag you into this? Now his chances of survival had just been reduced to nothing and you were cold.  

In the middle of the chaos that were your thoughts, you could not help but notice something, however. Watching his pockets, nothing seemed to resemble near or far to a jewel.

“Where’s that famous gemstone? Tell me this mess wasn’t caused for nothing.”

“It’s right there, sweetheart.” Not waiting any longer, he took your hand, dragging you through the field of flowers, moving you further and further away from the castle. “Hurry up before the kingdom learns that their precious princess is gone.”

Soon you reached Os Alta’s outskirts.

Your eyes looked around, admiring with almost childlike curiosity the greenery that surrounded you. Stopping, forcing Jesper to do the same, you crouch in the grass, unconcerned about getting your dress dirty. Your eyes wide open, sparkling with happiness, fixed themselves on a flower with red petals. Slowly, your index came to caress the sweetness of this little gift that nature had honoured your kingdom with. One tear flowed, then the other, falling delicately on one of the petals, a morning dew ahead of time. 

For the first time, you saw and touched a real flower that was much more beautiful that what you had imagined the windows of the castle. For the first time, you could admire nature in its most beautiful form, you could be part of this painting and not just have to look at it knowing that it would never become a reality.

Watching the delicate features of the man who had just taken your hand to help you get up, gently caressing it with his thumb, you laugh. For the first time in your life, a real laugh shook your body, lodged tears of joy in your eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt free. For the first time in your life, you took your courage with both hands, ignoring the voice of your mother who tormented your thoughts, and stood on tiptoe to land a delicate kiss on Jesper's cheek, near his lips.

There was a silence that caused your heart to miss a beat. Did you just ruin everything? Perhaps you were deluding yourself? God, you could already hear your mother yelling at you, and the court laughing. Your cheeks tinged with red by embarrassment, you desperately tried to get away from him, wanting to preserve the last spark of dignity you had but you could not do such thing, already his arm had imprisoned your waist and his hand your cheek. Without your brain being able to apprehend the rest, his lips landed delicately on yours, but they immediately withdrew, so quickly that you thought you had imagined their warmth. A chaste kiss, which sent your thoughts into unspeakable chaos. With wide eyes, red face, you tried to hide the latter in the man’s chest shaken by his laughter.

“We’ll do more of that later, Jewel. For now, we need to get moving or Kaz will definitely have my head and I need it to kiss you.”

Suddenly, in the grey hue that had summed up your whole life, drops of paint fell. They fell by dozens. Red. Yellow. Even green. A real summer shower whose raindrops painted the air, your soul, your heart in colours all brighter than the other. It was a splendid picture of a field of flowers that appeared in your thoughts. In the midst of these tasks of colour, of cheerfulness, two silhouettes ran, their hands intertwined; above them, a crow loomed, almost like a protector.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: blood, violence, knife violence, threats, weapons

AO3 link

Chapter 10 - Kaz

Kaz cracked his knuckles, surveying the blood splattered across his gloves. The man in front of him whimpered, leaning as far away from Kaz as his restraints would allow. His nose was broken and spewing blood faster than one of the ugly city fountains outside the exchange. Kaz’s clock was ticking down - he was supposed to meet Inej in only a few minutes, and he needed to get back to the Slat yet. 

“Are we done here?”

He opened his mouth, only for more thick, black blood to spill over his lips and drip down his face, bubbling in the corner of her mouth. Kaz sighed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Money by next week, you skip town and I put a bullet in your skull. Nod if you understand,”

He nodded.

“Good,”

Kaz turned on his heel and snatched his cane back from Anika, who was standing in wait next to him, and they began to pace back together. 

“What time is it?”

“Almost five bells,” said Anika, before shoving her little fake-gold watch back into her pocket, “How much does he owe you?”

“A little north of three thousand kruge. You would know that if you read the paperwork I gave you,”

Anika shrugged, and Kaz rolled his eyes. No wonder anyone else ever got anything done around here.

Almost five bells. He was going to be late - he’d have to forgo the Slat and go straight to meet Inej. 

“There’s a line of credit waiting for you at the Crow Club,” he told Anika, “Keep the tables busy. But I need you to stop and update the old man first - and tell him I’m changing some of the shift schedules,”

There was a particular bruiser at the Club that Kaz wanted on a new pattern, so he could see if he was right about him - Big Bolliger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins, tossing them to Anika; her money for tonight’s job, which seemed more than generous considering she threw two punches then just stood there holding his cane. 

“Tell Jesper he has a line of credit as well, but only for the Crow Club. He wants to wander off and get himself into deep shit again I’m not digging him out of it,”

Anika nodded and turned away, as Kaz began to make his way to the meeting point to see Inej. Halfway between East Stave and the University District would be the Financial District, but there was no safe place to meet undetected in the area and Inej could traverse the city much more quickly and subtly than Kaz could, so they were to meet in the Barrel - far South, below the Staves, where the tourists were fewer and the drinks were cheaper, if you cared about that. Kaz wasn’t drinking tonight and he sincerely doubted Inej would be either, but it was hardly a suspicious meeting place for two Barrel rats to wander into a rowdy bar even if they didn't order anything. The hope was that it would be busy enough no-one could overhear them, and far enough away from their usual haunts for anyone to try to do so anyway. By the time Kaz arrived, bad leg complaining at every step in the sudden turn the weather had taken to this damp, drizly misery, Inej was already inside. Kaz nodded to the barkeep and waited for two waters to be placed in front of him, then slid into Inej’s otherwise empty booth. Only when he planted the glasses on the table did she look up.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,”

“I was delayed,” he replied, picking up his water without making eye contact.

“I can see that,” Inej murmured, and Kaz realised that her gaze was focused on the blood splattered across his shirt.

He sighed - he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Inej’s righteousness tonight. Or this morning, actually. Dawn was just beginning and the distant, dreary sun leaked through the clouds and crawled over the window sill to vaguely illuminate the booth Inej had chosen. She always chose somewhere with a window, if it was an option. Kaz looked up and saw the sunlight catching in her oil black lashes, fanning lightly over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes to the table and collected one of the discarded menus laying between them. The sky was pink and yellow and golden orange, and when she glanced back up Kaz could see the reflection of it shimmering in Inej’s dark brown eyes. Even the pale, dreary sunlight could turn to glitter in her eyes, like stolen stars shimmering at him across the table. He tensed. 

“Well?”

“Well, all the food here looks terrible,” said Inej, sighing and dropping her menu back onto the desk, “I love Nina but she's a terrible cook; I need real food. But in other news, we have a problem,”

“Problem?”

Inej drummed her fingers against the desk, eyes still flicking through the disappointing menu. 

“I’m not sure local fish is as appealing as they think it is,” she mused, “I’ve seen the water here; there’s nothing good living it,”

Something about the environment of the city? Kaz didn’t have time to crack codes Inej was making up on the spot. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but just as he did she glanced up at the other patrons of the inn, then went back to idly skimming through the menu. Kaz followed her gaze, and his eyes found a Black Tips tattoo sitting at the bar. Dammit - it was a good job Inej was paying attention, because apparently Kaz wasn’t.

“Maybe that’s because they’ve taken all the fish out. What’s the problem?”

“That,” she said, turning over her menu to look at the drinks, “The fish is gone,”

Kaz almost choked on his water.

“Excuse me?”

Inej looked up.

“You lost the target?” he hissed, leaning forwards over the table. 

Inej’s eyes flashed so briefly that Kaz thought he might have imagined it. He flexed his fingers over the crow’s head of his cane as he leant back again, attention flicking towards the thug at the bar. The bruiser wasn’t looking in their direction but that didn’t mean he didn’t know they were there, and if he’d seen them he’d surely recognised them. It wasn’t an unimaginable thing for them to be here and it wasn’t an unimaginable thing for this to be a coincidence, but Kaz didn’t trust coincidences. Neither did Inej, but fate and rotten luck were a debate for another day. 

“Oh, they do cocktails,” she smiled, “I didn’t expect that,”

Something out of character had happened - rotten old inns at the bottom of the Barrel didn’t serve nice cocktails and rich kids with question marks on them didn’t just disappear - and Inej hadn’t been ready to respond to it. Kaz sighed, then begrudgingly took the bait.

“Are you going to order one?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” she mused, lightly, “the last time I had something as strong as these my head ached an entire week,”

He’s been missing for a week.

“A week?” Kaz spat, struggling to control his tone.

“Well I thought maybe it was just illness,” 

He missed a few days of classes, but people get ill and when they get ill if they’re rich enough they stay at home. It wasn’t worth reporting on.

“But now I’m quite sure it was something else,”

Something else is going on - something more sinister?

“So I had a good think about what could have caused it,”

Scoped out the house, probably the university offices too, just looking for news.

“And I decided the solution was probably to quit drinking,”

Kaz frowned. Had he followed that one right?

“You mean-?”

“Withdrawn,” she dropped her menu and lifted her glass of water to her lips, “Completely out of nowhere; no word of anything since. I felt completely rotten, I’ll tell you, holed up alone in my room and didn’t speak to anyone for days,”

There was a pause. Kaz nodded, slowly.

“There’s nothing I want to eat here,” said Inej, standing up, “We should go back to the Crow Club,”

Kaz stood, leaning heavily against his cane. His leg was grateful for the brief reprieve but Inej was right; they needed to move, so they could lay this out properly and so they were out of here before that Black Tip got ideas. Only they were too late for that.

As soon as they both stood up the bruiser turned towards them, a wicked dagger gleaming in his palm. Kaz sighed as several other patrons came to alert along with him, all drawing their weapons. The rest of the inn either panicked, fell completely silent, or both. Mostly both, actually.

“What business?”

The bruiser at the bar grinned.

“Not business this time, Dirtyhands,”

“Everything’s business,” Kaz said, catching Inej in the corner of his eye. 

He didn’t risk a nod, but she didn’t need any more signal than that fleeting moment of eye contact.

“And as flattered as I am that you’d go through all this just for us,” Kaz pretending to swallow a false yawn, “It’s been a long night. If you’ll excuse me,”

He took a step forwards, smiling at the sudden intensity that took hold of the motley crew surrounding him. They actually looked a little afraid - he was down by at least five men, his chance at a head count had been brief and the odds were about to swing in his direction but it was a fair estimate, and was yet to draw a weapon. And they were afraid. 

“You ain’t going anywhere,” snarled the thug who’d moved away from the bar to close in on Kaz, apparently some sort of ringleader to this group of clowns.

“I don’t know what your boss is after,” Kaz said coolly, “but you can tell him that he won’t get anywhere by having me killed - first and foremost because I have a nasty habit of coming back from the dead. And secondly-”

Kaz’s cane whipped around the back of the bruiser’s legs, finding pressure points in the the back of his knees to bring him stumbling to the ground whilst Kaz grabbed his arm and thrust it backwards until he felt the shoulder popping out the socket. The dagger clattered towards the ground and before anyone could draw breath Kaz’s good leg had come down on the handle so it spun upwards and he could catch it midair in his free, gloved hand. He pressed the blade against the bruiser’s throat.

“- because I don’t take kindly to threats. What’s your name?”

Silence. Kaz pressed the blade closer to the bruiser’s neck, so it just began to break the skin.

“What’s your name?”

“Velthuis,”

Kaz smiled, slowly.

“Even if you manage to kill me today, Velthuis,” he crooned, leaning closer, “you’re starting a war with the Dregs. You really think the Black Tips would survive such a proposition? Because I’m not sure they would,” he tightened his grip on the dagger, and Velthuis released a slight, pained yelp, “I’m definitely sure that you wouldn’t,”

He released him, and stepped back. Kaz had no more intention to start a war with the Black Tips than they did with him; he wasn’t going to kill one of their own in the middle of a busy inn with their own gang members watching, whether he could plead retaliation or not. If they were going to have to fight their way out of this, he needed this skiv to draw first blood.

“He don’t want you dead,” blubbered Velthuis, shaking his head, lifting a hand to the bare scratches Kaz had left on his neck as though they were an open, gaping wound, “Not yet, anyway,”

“What does he want?”

“Information,” he spat, “He wants the-”

Velthuis stopped, looking around and finally realising that Inej was no longer standing next to Kaz.

“Where did she go?”

“Who?”

“I - the Wraith, she was -”

A body thudded to the ground behind Kaz. And then another. And then another. 

They were still breathing, he was quite sure, but they’d be incapacitated for some time. Kaz smiled as he watched the horror spreading across Velthuis’ face. He stumbled to his feet, trying to back away from the sudden carnage, and fell straight into Inej’s knife as she appeared from the shadows behind him. He cried out as she grabbed his shoulder and leaned over, a second knife now pressed against his throat in as many minutes.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she breathed, “But you can tell your boss I’m not interested,”

“Let’s move,” said Kaz, turning towards the door.

She forced the bruiser to his knees and patted him lightly on the head, then walked to the door with Kaz following in her wake.

[withinthereeds]

The Mirror Man's Victims; a character study

Once again I have been plagued by the visions, this time about some characters absolutely nobody cares about.

This may get a bit rambly and include some speculation/headcanons, but that's just the nature of this sort of thing. Might also be a little image heavy as I toss up examples to prove my points. Putting it under the cut.

Note: for brevity's sake, I will be giving names to each of the children because frankly the names we know them as are entirely too long. The Boy Who Got Tall - Ricky The Boy Who Got Strong - Linus The Boy Who Got Forked - Casper The Humpback Girl - Destiny/Dess

First, the Setting:

Clearly this is a more modern time, in some form of urban area. I'd wager somewhere between the late 90's and early 2000's, going off of the kid's clothes (beanie, baseball cap, hoodies, etc). This contrasts rather starkly with the more rural setting of the previous comic involving the North Wind.

I have reason to believe this city is not inside the Nowhere itself. While the children do seem to be aware of an 'urban legend' surrounding the old building, Dess is the only one that believes in any danger. With the Sounds of Nightmares, we've been shown certain people may dream into the Nowhere and become acquainted with the monsters within, and it's not out of the question Dess herself has had night terrors such as those.

(the comment about the wind is funny, considering the last chapter was about the North Wind, but that very well may be a red herring. Even so, her conviction is strong. More on her later.)

An argument could be made about how is the Mirror Man in the real world in that case, which I understand. I have two counter theories for that though. Either the Ferryman himself brought him over as part of his trap, or the Mirror Man was never fully there to begin with. I'm more inclined towards the latter.

Notably he was already described as "the thing that wasn't there." And he isn't, really. He's in the mirrors, and he only reaches out of them without fully leaving them himself. Mirrors themselves are often described as portals or windows to another world, and I'd be inclined to think the Mirror Man's realm is sort of inbetween the Nowhere and the waking world, though it may have been tainted in some way and it's influence is severely limited outside the Nowhere.

Moving onto the children.

Ricky, The Boy Who Got Tall

Looking at him straight up, he is notably shorter than the others, and a bit more portly though the style doesn't make it that clear in most shots. I'd wager he's the youngest of the group.

His desires almost seem naive or softhearted in comparison to the others'. Reflecting a sense of self-importance, maybe?

(ha ha cookie fat joke so funny funny. rolling my eyes here)

Regardless. Ricky was also the one to argue with Dess about going into the building, and was the first to uncover a mirror. He takes the most initiative out of everyone in the group and is stubborn/pushy with what he wants, as if making up for a perceived inadequacy. However, he was also the one to help Dess with her plan to send the Mirror Man away (while Casper was injured and unable to assist).

(he also admits he was wrong, which is a nice touch)

Even with his rough edges, he shows the most consideration for what Dess feels, being the only one to stop and talk her into joining them inside, as well as the most concern for her wellbeing once things go to shit. He also promises to come back for her once they get help, and although Dess claims they never did, we don't know for certain how much time passed between the boys leaving and the Ferryman's arrival.

That being said, given the Ferryman's predatory nature, I wouldn't put it past him to manipulate her at her lowest point so she'd come with him to the Maw.

Linus, The Boy Who Got Strong

This one, we arguably know the least about, given his early removal from the comic, to put it lightly. He has very few lines, but we can infer a number of things from his actions, particularly his interactions with Casper.

He's shown being rather close to him, in the bluntest meaning possible. Working alongside him while Ricky is busy talking to Dess, having no qualms about personal space, and so on. He's also shown leading the way inside, next to Casper, and quickly follows up on Ricky's impulsiveness in uncovering the mirrors.

(note how they went in through the hole at the same time)

Moving on. The mirror's reflection showed him in a position of power. Building a "real castle," and sitting on top of it. Never to be picked on again. I'd reckon he views himself as king, or as the unofficial leader of his friend group. However he's not on top of the pecking order in his mind, so in a broader social scale I'd wager he's a Bully, but also a target for bigger bullies outside of his group.

(minor thing: is he throwing bugs at people? i cant tell)

I can't talk about him fully without bringing up his best friend's interactions with him. Onwards.

Casper, The Boy Who Got Forked

Props to this boy for being the only one in the friend group to have visible hair. Jokes aside, Casper seems to be sort of a two-faced cunt? In the beginning, he follows Linus' lead, yes, but also appears to be more put off by the place like Dess was, repeating what Ricky said to reassure himself. Once the mood lightens and they're enamored, he quickly falls into line, mirroring (hah) Linus and Ricky's sentiments.

(very much unrelated but why do they all have lighters... have they been smoking something on their past adventures...)

Anyhow, his desires, as shown by the mirror, are convenience, and not being alone. Getting his chores done early to spend more time elsewhere, presumably with his friends, as well as having more support for his "games." He calls it playing sure but it definitely looks more like he's bullying that kid. (kids?)

(note Linus is also part of his desires, while Ricky is not.)

After Linus is taken, Casper is somewhat reckless; approaching the mirrors to get changed back. The Mirror Man appears, and Dess barks at him to run.

He does not.

The Mirror Man grabs him, and so does Dess, pulling him in half. For the rest of the story, he is of few words and little help. Even after he was physically whole again, the mirror still held a massive part of him, I'd be inclined to believe.

This is largely speculation on my part, but his story is rather tragic too. Like Mono, he watched his best friend get taken away. But unlike Mono, he couldn't follow them. He couldn't save him. He's just a kid, after all, he doesn't have that same power.

Maybe the reason they were taking so long to come back was because he was having a massive breakdown over the loss of his friend, but who's to say for certain?

Destiny, The Humpback Girl

(sidenote: she appears to be wearing a hijab, or some other headscarf. interesting and neat.)

As mentioned previously, Dess is (rightfully) afraid of the building housing the Mirror Man, but how does she know it would be dangerous? Again, this is pure speculation as the comics were discontinued years ago, but now that we have the context of children slipping into the Nowhere through dreams, we have a potential reason for her fearful behavior.

Going back to what was actually said in the comic, is at odds with her friends. They don't take her seriously until it's too late, and they seem to have a history of shrugging her off (re: last week it was the wind). Despite this, she still risks herself for their freedom, and shows concern for Casper when he's hurt.

She was brave when she needed to be, and clever, more than her friends were, but she still slipped up. The mirrors never stopped being dangerous.

She risked herself again checking to see if the Mirror Man was dead, only this time she wasn't so lucky, as we know. He twisted her image, knowing how she perceived herself (re: mirrors always talked too much), leaving her to wallow in despair for her efforts.

However. The Mirror Man allowed her friends to change back. I doubt breaking the mirror he was looking through had any effect on Him specifically as it was only a window as we established earlier, so why did he let them go?

I have another theory. Dess was growing increasingly exasperated her friends, having been plagued by nightmares that weren't taken seriously, or being listened to at all. This whole experience was a trap for her, orchestrated so she'd be wounded and left behind, ready to be taken away. The Ferryman is manipulative and clever, it's possible he struck a deal with the Mirror Man to terrorize some children, allowing him to take one for himself as payment, as long as he left Dess alive and hurting.

closing thoughts: i think the ferryman should eat his own shorts. these brats and their dynamics have so much potential but i am likely doomed to scream into the void about them. maybe ill write something abt them myself lol

first time writing an analysis like this hopefully im coherent dsjknfdsjkfnjk. also my inbox is open to suggestions

[bearholdnews]

📰 — URGENT BEARHOLD NEWS . . .

Citizens of Bearhold are in shock this week as the first arrest has been made on suspicion of connection to the recent slew of gruesome murders. Long-time Bearhold community member John Anderson has been taken into police custody, and is undergoing intense investigation, after an anonymous tip and three eye-witness statements placed him near the scene of the most recent crime. Witnesses stated that Anderson was seen dragging something heavy towards the bluffs on the northern-most end of the Bearhold coastline. He was then seen throwing multiple items over the bluffs into the rocky surf zone, before leaving the area, empty handed. Sources at the Bearhold PD say that they were able to debunk Anderson's alibi by using his car's GPS to confirm that he was near the northside cliffs at the time stated in witness accounts...

continue reading below...

Though it is still unclear what Anderson was dispensing into the bluffs at the time, unidentified and dismembered remains were discovered on the north coast roughly a quarter of a mile up-stream from the bluffs. These remains were in similar condition to the previously discovered remains, though the evidence was more severely damaged due to the harsh backwash in the area. When given a description of the rough size of the discovered remains, witnesses confirmed that the items they saw Anderson disposing of were of nearly identical size. Multiple sources close to Anderson have come forward in outrage, claiming that the Bearhold PD's investigation leading to the arrest was fraught with negligence and political bias. Anderson's previous position as city comptroller from 2018 to 2022 resulted in a reduction in government funding within the Bearhold PD, causing four staff members to be laid off. Members of Anderson's community have claimed that this has negatively impacted the BHPD's ability to conduct an unbiased investigation on Anderson. Bearhold PD has not yet reached out to give a statement on these accusations. Despite public evidence, Anderson's wife gave the Bearhold Independent a written statement, claiming that she and her husband arrived home from Washington State Cougars game late that night, shared several cocktails together, before going to bed around 3 am, long after witness statements place him at the bluffs. She claims that, even if he had left after she went to sleep, he was far too drunk to drive in a straight line when she left him, and that he very likely would have been pulled over or gotten into a collision of some kind. Anderson is being held on a $10,000 bail, though sources close to him say that his lawyer has advised him to wait it out instead of making bail. This may be because their camp is waiting to see if another murder occurs while Anderson is behind bars, which would do wonders for Anderson's pleas of innocence. Anderson himself has been advised not to make a statement to the Bearhold Independent, yet, but we still patiently await to hear what he has to say.

— what have bearhold community members had to say about this? The Bearhold community is rather split on their opinions of John Anderson, and thus are split on the news of his arrest. Many people were in support of the funding cuts on the Bearhold PD, given the current political climate as well as the fact that Bearhold is quiet, calm, and relatively crime free. On the other side of that, though, were people who's friends and family were affected by the layoffs, as well as people who would have wanted a heightened police presence, and they blamed John Anderson for this defunding. Seeing that the defunding drama happened back in 2022, talk had mostly died down for a long time, but the recent murders and attacks had caused the topic to stir once again, given how overwhelmed the police department was. Aside from this situation, there was an unsubstantiated (but widely believed) rumor back in 2016 that Anderson had conducted an affair on his wife of 20+ years, with a girl who was still a junior in high school. The Anderson family and the family of the young girl were all very hush hush, and the only perceived consequence that came of the situation was that Anderson was removed from his part-time teaching position at the local school. The young girl and her family soon after moved to California. Anderson was inducted as city comptroller, just two years after this incident occurred. — what does this mean for the investigation? The investigation is still moving forward at full force. The evidence that Anderson has been arrested on is circumstantial. Not enough information has been concluded from the recent discovery of body parts, nor from the previous discoveries. Investigations into Anderson's home, office, personal life and finances are being conducted. The Bearhold PD are still waiting on DNA results from the recent discovered remains. As of now, the identified victims have no known connection to Anderson.

[ghostsprobably]

Hello sorry for the inconvenience I just wanted a clarification on your winx au to understand how you place the realms

No inconvenience i'm sorry it took me so long to answer this!!!!!

I've posted the map I made a couple of times but i never really went that in depth about what i did to the places themselves. Well I mean I did but that's in a notebook somewhere and didn't ever actually get posted lmao sorryyyy

Okay so! I'm going to try formatting it as straight forward as I can, but it's still gonna be long as hell. Also there's some things I can't quite remember so I'll come back and update this when I find them in that notebook

Earth - Regular Earth where we live

Magix - The name of the planet where everyone that isn't from earth lives; It is very similar to earth in every way other than having magic; I might have people from this planet be called magicians, alongside people from earth being called earthlings.

COUNTRIES

Solaria - One of the major world super powers of Magix. A massive kingdom with happy citizens and generally good quality of life. Capital is Soletres which sits along the coastline of a massive bay, the capital city is surrounded by desert as you leave the coast. The south most shore is quite marshy and the northern most border is mountains, with lots of different kinds of terrain in between. Though King Radius and Former Queen Luna divorced many years ago, Luna is still a prominent figure in politics. Princess Stella is a beloved icon of her people.

Eraklyon - Another major super power. Shares some of its western border with Solaria and extends east to the coast. A very mountainous country, with some areas of plains to the south. Capital is ________. Quite a different vibe from Solaria, Eraklyon is heavily militarized with a sizable class divide. Much of the country lives in poverty. King Erendor and Queen Samara are proud, stubborn rulers (and parents). Prince Sky is largely a mystery to the public.

Andros - Though not quite as enormous as the last two, still quite a powerful kingdom as they are rich in resources. Also in control of Lightrock Penitentiary, a highly secure prison on an small island to the north. The main island of Andros was created by a massive, now extinct volcano. The bowl is now an enormous lake that is connected to the ocean via giant rivers and canals, this is where the capital city, _________, is located. Andros is a semi aquatic kingdom, a merge of two civilizations that were once at war, and as such there is a secondary royal family that resides off the coast of the main island. They are secondary in power to the main royal family, comprised of King Neptune, Queen Ligea, and Princess Aisha.

Dominoe - By the time of our story, this kingdom has long since fallen. All that remains of this once flourishing nation is abandoned ruins nestled in the snowy mountains north of Eraklyon. After the fall of Dominoe, Eraklyon actually tried to take over it's territory, but found the landscape to be far too harsh to settle. The captial city of Sparks is now a ghost town, or is it?

CITIES

Linphea - A very small city in the forests of Solaria. Populated by both civilians and acolytes as this city is the location of the Sacred Garden of the Mother Dragon. It is said to be where she first landed on Magix and is a holy site full of secrets.

Melody - A destination city in the south of Solaria. A cultural hub filled to the brim with tourists. This bustling city is always buzzing with passion, and it's where Musa's parents met and she was born.

Zenith - A densely packed city in the north west of Eraklyon, just within its border with Alfea and close to Red Fountain. This city is a hot spot for tech and engineering. Despite being a bustling city that never sleeps, this is ironically one of the more socially relaxed parts of Eraklyon, and people are a lot more welcoming here than other parts of the country.

Dyamond - This is a spoiler!

Gardenia - Bloom's hometown on earth, now located just outside of New York City because that's the area I'm familiar with and that'll make it a lot easier for me to write for.

OTHER

Alfea - Elite fairy College north of Linphea, near the Solarian border with Eraklyon but on the Solarian side.

Cloud Tower - College for witches just north of Solaria's border in a small country I don't have a name for yet, and to the west of Alfea. One of the few schools for witches across Magix, allegedly where the practice was founded.

Red Fountain - Military academy to the east of Alfea, past the border into Eraklyon.

Lightrock Penitentiary - a highly secure prison on an small island to the north of the main island of Andros

Light Hope Monastery - Home to peaceful monks who tend to the island on which Lightrock Penitentiary is located. Sometimes prisoners with excellent behavior can be granted a sort of parole and allowed to live amongst the monks. It is also kind of like rehab.

Omega Penitentiary - the most brutal prison in all of magix, where the worst magical offenders of all time are kept in crystalline prisons designed by the Great Dragon herself.

I think that's just about everything I've cooked up so far!!

[ladylooch]

You're Mine- Timo Meier

Part of the Loving & Leaving Series.

A/N: Okay you know I love this. Thank you for letting me use Timo and Emma for this! I immediately went to Timo being jealous. I tried to think of other angsty things but it always came back to jealousy. Like that is what is going to get these two to hate fuck each other. Inspo from this lovely request. P.S. Would you believe me if I told you I wrote this in public 😏

Word Count: 3.6k

Timo and I lock eyes across the bar. We both lean back in surprise, then grin at each other. 

“Stay there.” He calls, beginning to work his way around to me.

We both arrived separately at a sponsorship event for the Devils. Me as his date and a business owner and him as my date and a player in attendance. He came from home, waiting for Lio’s babysitter, while I was already in the area doing some admin work and catching up with Rhea back in Switzerland. Arriving separately has proven to be fruitful. I have several business cards in my purse and follow up meetings next week for potential events to host in the coming months. Business in North America is doing better than I could have predicted.

“Hey.” Timo murmurs, kissing my cheek. 

“Hi.” I smooch his cheek too, lacing our fingers together.

“When did you get here? I didn’t see you walk in.”

“I think I got here before you. I’ve been chatting with a bunch of people. I already have like four potential events to book. We might need to delay going home for a bit.” He shrugs like that isn’t a big deal to him.

“Of course you do. You’re the best.” I blush, chomping on my lip at his praise. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“Um, just water for now. I’m so thirsty.”

“Be right back.” He says, leaning down to kiss me again. This time he lingers, hand drifting dangerously low on my back to skim across the top of my butt. “Can’t wait to get you alone later.” I open my eyes, drowning in admiration as I watch him leave.

I can’t wait for that either.

“Excuse me, are you Emma?” A voice to the right asks. I turn, taking in a tall, blonde with mirrored aviators. He extends his hand, showcasing a perfectly straight smile while enclosing his fingers around mine.

“I am. You are?”

“Colin. I’m the owner.” He motions to the expensive restaurant and event center.

“Oh! Yes, I was asking the staff members if you were here. My company is hosting an event here next month. I was told I needed special permission from you to bring in rescue animals as it requires a specific permit. I believe you as the group owner need to pull the permit with the city?”

“Excuse me.” Someone says behind me, trying to sneak through. I step closer to Colin. My heel falls into a crack and I get a bit wobbly. Colin steadies me by my forearm. I latch onto his in surprise. 

“So sorry.”

“No problem. It’s a little tight up here.” 

“Yeah, but the space is incredible. The Edison string lights really make the space.

“Thanks. You have amazing taste.” He chuckles. He takes off his aviators, tucking them in the breast pocket of his suit.  “Tell me more about this event.”

I fill Colin in on our idea to have rescue animals at the event from a local non-profit to raise more donations for a vet program that helps homeless individuals receive care for their pets while living on the streets. Its a massive need in the NY & NJ areas.

“We are thinking a puppy kissing booth and a fashion show. I understand it is a lot to ask, but we know this would really help reach the fundraising goal for the night.”

“You’ve completely sold me. I’ll have to be in attendance to spend some money. I’ll have my assistant gather the permit paperwork in the morning. Would you be available to stop by for lunch tomorrow and we can iron out the logistics for the permit? My treat.”

“Yeah, that would be great. The sooner we can get it submitted the better.”

“Perfect. Do you have a card?”

“Unfortunately I ran out! Do you have your phone? I can put my number in directly.”

“Even better.”

He hands me his iPhone so I can click the numbers in. I hand it back to him and we shake hands. I ignored the way his hand lingers a moment longer, but bring my left hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. My large wedding rings are blinding in the sunlight and I know he sees them because his cheeks tighten a bit in disappointment. 

As Colin is walking away, Timo is returning, frowning, with his hands full. He wordlessly hands me the glass of water.

“Thank you.” I say, immediately gulping down two sips. I stick my tongue out, faking a pant. “It’s kinda hot today. I didn’t think it got so hot in the Spring.”

“Who was that?” Timo asks. I can hear the tightness in his voice even as he tries to sound breezy. I pause, scanning his facial features, taking note of the muscle pulsing in his jaw.

“Colin. The owner here.”

“You know him?”

“No, just met tonight. We were talking about the fundraising event I’m hosting here next month.” I shrug, bringing my glass to my lips again.

“Really? And he had to stand that close to you?” I slowly lower my glass down, taking a calming pause before responding.

“It wasn’t intentional. The crowd was pushing us into each other because people kept trying to get by to the bar.” I place my hand on his forearm, giving him a squeeze. He pulls away.

“Your tits were practically bouncing off his chest.” I pause with my tongue partly licking my bottom lip. “Maybe you should go home with him tonight.”

“Oh my god.” I scoff, rolling my eyes at him. “I’m going to give you a one-time pass on that comment.” I flip my hair over my shoulder in annoyance.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

“I’ve been networking! Which you told me was okay to do tonight because of who is in this room.” I clap back at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you when you walked in.”

“Didn’t realize it was going to be only men you talk to. Guess that’s why you picked that dress. Thought it was for me.”

“Wow. Yeah, I came here tonight with you, my millionaire husband, to hit on other men in a low cut dress to make a few extra dollars. I think I can afford to not sell my body for potential clients.”

Timo looks down into his drink as he takes a sip. 

“Hey, Timo. I hope you don’t mind if I steal your wife. I’ve got an event next Fall I think she would be the perfect planner for.” Tom Fitzgerald says from my left.

“No problem. She’s all yours.” The insinuation in his tone makes tears pinch the back of my eyes as he walks away.

After talking to Tom, I end up going to the bathroom to let my tears fall. I come out of the stall, dabbing discreetly at my eyes with toilet paper. I no longer feel up to more networking. All I want now is to leave. So, I go find Timo.

“I’m not feeling well. I want to go.” I avoid looking into his eyes so he can’t see my red rimmed orbs.

“Okay, give me a few minutes. I have more people to catch before I can go.” Anger flares inside of my chest, a burning ball of injustice at him being such a jerk tonight.

“Forget it. I’ll have Nico take me.” I start walking away before he can respond.

“Emma, come back here.”

“No.” I snap over my shoulder as I walk to find my brother.

- - -

Nico ends up bringing me home. He doesn’t ask questions, just gives me a hug and assures me it’s going to be okay when he sees my tears. He comes in briefly to give Lio a smooch, then leaves to return to the party with the rest of his teammates. 

Timo doesn’t come home until later, after I’m pretending to be asleep in our bed. He walks into the room, checking the comforter is covering my whole body. He carefully rakes my hair back into my pillow case, dropping a kiss to my temple. 

“Love you.” He mumbles. I hear him go into our closet and change, then grab his pillow from the other side of the bed and leave for the couch- the sleeping arrangement I texted him about earlier. He doesn’t get to insult me then sleep in our bed like he didn’t cross a line.

The next morning, I awaken well into the morning. I glance at my phone, surprised to see its after 9:00am. Lio is usually up by 7:00am. I grab the monitor, not seeing him in his crib. Both boys must be up then. I take the peace and quiet, grabbing my breast pump to take care of the first session for the day. As Lio has gotten older, I’ve started to rotate between breastfeeding and pumping, mostly because I’m gone more frequently than when he was a newborn. 

When the cycle is complete, I gather the bottles then head down to the kitchen. Timo is putting Lio’s bib around his neck. Lio has starting to enjoy more food in the last month, much to my delight. Timo hears me step onto the hardwood from the stairs. He glances over his shoulder briefly then looks back at Lio.

“Good morning.” He tries to sound cheery, but the frustration from last night is evident in his tone. I tilt my lips up into a half-assed smile. “He was up at 5. I gave him two bottles already, but he still seemed hungry so we are trying pumpkin.”

“Oooo a new flavor.” I smile at our son who’s gummy grin fills his face. “Pumpkin for our lil pumpkin.” I smooch Lio’s cheek and his giggle fills the kitchen. I press my nose into his hair, smelling the sweetness of his soft skin. Timo watches me, leaning against the counter. Our gazes connect but I look away. I place the fresh bottles in the fridge after marking the date on them.

“Are we going to talk?”

“Probably at some point.” I say, walking to the coffee bar to begin working on an espresso.

“Well I have to go to practice soon.”

“Good for you. You’ll need to take Lio with you to the sitter. I have a client meeting with Colin.”

“That douche from last night?”

“He’s not a douche. You were the one acting like a douche.” Timo’s eyebrows shoot up and he’s instantly seething. He walks back over to the highchair, giving Lio another spoonful.

“I don’t want you to go.” Timo suddenly whirls around, practically spraying pumpkin all over the white kitchen. “Can’t Rhea call and talk to him?”

“No. It’s paperwork for a permit. And I really don’t care what you want. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.” I can feel my blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. He is being completely unreasonable. 

“So my feelings don’t matter?”

“Not when it comes to my work.” I turn back to the espresso machine. “ End of discussion.”

“Uh, no it’s not.”

“It is.” I suck air between my gritted teeth, trying to stay calm. 

“This is bullshit.”

“Timo.” I spin around, gesturing to Lio.

“He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Until that’s his first word.”

“I want to talk more about this.”

“I don’’t.”

“We are no longer fuck buddies who get to play around like this. We are married. You’re my wife. And as your husband-”

“You better stop talking right now before you step into something you won’t be getting out of for days.” I turn back to the machine, watching the last few drops fall into the small cup.

“Emma, if you turn your back on me again when I’m talking, you better be bending over for me to fuck you.” His voice is low but razor sharp. I pause, sucking my cheeks in, glancing over my shoulder at his face. He is pissed. Absolutely seething with his arms crossed over his thick chest, Lio’s spoon in one hand and the jar of baby food in the other.

Our gazes stay locked in heated defiance. If Lio wasn’t here, I know how we would settle this. But he’s right there, wiggling for Timo to give him his next spoonful of pumpkin. I turn back around, showing him my back just like he told me not to. The spoon and jar clatter to the counter. Timo’s large hands swoop me up, throwing a shoulder into my thighs so I hang down his back.

“Timo, our baby.” 

“He is fine.”

“Not in the high chair.” Timo slaps my ass, hard. I squeak, feeling the intense burning coat my backside.

“Shut your mouth. Or I’ll shut it for you.” It’s at that moment that I realized I may be a little in over my head with this.

“Put me down.”

“No, you’re being such a fucking brat.” He huffs as he hauls me back over his shoulder so I fall on the bed. “Stay here.” He points a finger at me. I oblige, listening to Timo bring Lio into his nursery. I’m shocked when our son willingly goes down. He must sense his dad’s exasperation.

My heart flutters and breathing intensifies with every thud of Timo’s feet coming back to our bedroom. When he walks in, my heart aches for him. I hate fighting with him. What used to drive me crazy with sexual tension, now fills me with terror. Losing him is no longer a livable option. Not since we made Lio.

“I’m sorry.” I begin to bubble as he pulls me down the bed to him.

“Sh. Don’t ruin this by being sweet now.”

I can tell he’s already over whatever was happening in the kitchen. All he wants now is to be buried to the hilt, feeling me squeeze him while dropping moans into his ear. He climbs on top of me, hands coming to dash through the sides of my hair. His mouth is on mine, greedy and possessive. As he kisses me, he shoves his hard erection between my legs, rutting into me until I give the whimpers he’s desperate to hear.

He grips the waistband of my shorts, ripping them down my body. I nibble my swollen lip, panting as I watch him hover his mouth above my clit. He locks eyes with me, then licks up my slit, maintaining eye contact. I look back as long as I can, but the ecstasy calls my head to the pillow. I whine when he roughly slurps at my clit.

“T. Fuck me. Please.” I beg.

“You gonna be good?”

“No.”

“Em, you know what I want from you.” He pulls completely away, smirking at the way I desperately cry to him.

“There is a vibrator in that drawer just as good as you.” I challenge. He sucks his cheeks in. 

“Doubtful.”

“Prove it.” I hiss, gripping him harshly over his shorts. The control shifts back to me instantly. He pulls his shorts off, then settles back on his knees between my legs. I wrap my hands around his shoulders, making his lips meet mine in the middle.

His engorged head is perched at my opening. He presses in fast, bucking his hips into mine as I grip his neck for leverage to watch us connect. I'm so tight; he’s so rigid, I’m instantly moaning when his mouth connects our lips. His tongue drags along mine, practically choking me with how deep he’s going. Fuck, this is fantastic. But I want to be the one in control. I shove at his shoulders. He won’t relinquish. He pulls back up, fucking me harder until my hips are writhing off the bed to meet his.

“You belong to me.” He reminds me as he pounds deeper into my folds. I can’t breathe. It’s so good and intense and necessary. His grip on my hips is as possessive as his words. Nothing could pull him away from me. 

“Then you better treat me like I do.” I pant out, reaching up his back to claw my fingernails down his back with his rapid fucking. “Fuck.” I sob, digging deeper. Raw, angry marks form under my nails on his back. Timo turns his face into me, sucking the sensitive skin of my throat before biting down. 

“I treat you like a goddamn queen. You were a fucking brat last night, not letting me sleep in our bed.” 

“You deserved it.” I am quick to quip back. He responds by bringing his hand up to my throat, holding it there and watching my eyes close with desire. He doesn’t tighten his grip, just holds me down as he pumps faster.

“Keep it up.” He whispers with an edge. His other hand comes down to my clit, two fingers feeling their way between my folds. His touch is light and has me writhing beneath him for more. “You want to come? You know what you need to do.” I think about fighting more, but the need is too great. I tangle my legs around his waist, keeping him close to me. He pauses, buried inside of me. “Baby.” His voice is coated with love now. 

“I love you, T. I’m yours. Forever.” I bury my face into his neck as he begins to rapidly pound into me again. It’s so incredible. Fast and deep and ragged. His cock drags along my inner walls, fingers playing with my clit while he sucks at the nook of my neck and shoulder. Explosions sparkle along my black eyelids. “Ooo-oh.” I choke out into his ear, then suck in a short, staccato breath before exhaling a loud moan. My pussy tugs ribbons of cum from his tip as he tells me how fucking incredible I feel when I’m coming.

Our heavy breathing shakes the bed. I run my hand up his back to his hair, holding his face to where he kisses my shoulder. His breath is hot against the wet skin there. After a bit, he falls off to the side, rolling me with him. I curl into his chest as his hand travels down, cupping my butt. He rests his lips on my head.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I forgave you the second you slid into me.”

“It’s kinda our way, no?”

“Yeah. I’m okay with that.”

“Me too.” He chuckles. Some silence passes, our breathing starts to regulate. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you.” Timo says. I think about that for a second.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re mine.” That one answer holds so much weight. As possessive as it sounds, it’s really about the fear he still has that I might not be here one day. The same fear I felt grip me when he walked into the bedroom.

“T, I’m never gonna leave you. Ever again.” He sighs after I say those words, crushing me to his chest so he can kiss my lips. “You proved to me that you’re better than the vibrator. So…” He snorts against my face, then throws his head back into the pillow to laugh.

“I’m gonna use it on you tonight so we can settle that once and for all.”

“If we close the blinds, it could be night time right now.” I wiggle my eyebrows excitedly. “Lio definitely went back to sleep.”

“Yeah, did you see his teeth coming in? Little dude is going through it. I hate it.”

“Ah, I felt them when I was feeding him yesterday. It was awful.”

“You should be done breastfeeding. Teeth on your nipples seems like more than you signed up for.” He jokes.

“You just want to touch my boobs again.”

“Yes. Duh. And put them in my mouth.”

I pause to consider, fueled mostly be selfish desire. It is probably getting to be time though. Lio seems to like bottles better these days, but the thought of being done with our journey makes me sad. 

Suddenly, the doorbell sounds through the house.

“Oh fuck, Nico!” I sputter, rolling over and almost off the bed. Timo grabs my arm at the last second, allowing me to catch myself with my other one on the ground. “I forgot he said he was coming back this morning.”

I toss Timo’s shirt over my head, jumping around on my feet to pull my underwear up my legs, then rushing from the room.

“Babe, you really gonna answer the door like that? It’s your brother!” Timo’s voice calls after me. I ignore him.

“Hey!” I say breathlessly to Nico after swinging the front door open. Nico stands there, sunglasses cover his eyes and a twisted scowl. I can feel his judgmental gaze rake down my body.

“I see you’ve made up.” 

“No I just slept like this.”

“I know what just fucked hair looks like, Em.”

“Ew.” 

“Ditto.”

Timo comes strolling into the entry way behind me, Lio in his arms with sideways, matted hair after his brief nap.

“Oh, we got some grumpy gills back there.” Nico’s tone immediately changes seeing his nephew.

“Yeah, he’s not too happy with me.” Timo bounces our son a bit, trying to get a smile. Lio refuses.

“Lot of people not happy with you.” Nico snips, grabbing Lio from Timo and walking further into the house.

“Your sister and I worked it out.” Timo murmurs as I step into his arms, wrapping mine around his waist to give him a squeeze. His hands slide down to my ass, giving it a hearty squeeze. He spreads my cheeks a bit and I feel his cum sliding out of me. I wrinkle my nose, grunting quietly at the feeling. Timo laughs because he knows what is happening.

“Awww, you hear that Lio. You’re gonna be a big brother!”

“Nico Hischier, if you speak that into existence right now, I will end you.”

Nico hides his snicker with Lio.

[juni-ravenhall]

i want to make a new just straight up self insert sso oc thats as close to real me as i can manage but im also suffering from the horrors and the tired. but it would be fun to fill out sheets as myself and draw portraits of myself but like as a jorvegian.

i wonder where i should have grown up like whats sort of comparable to my irl? i feel like valedale/firgrove area might make sense, bc our family home is in the forest but in general my province is full of wide fields and forests (no mountains) and fields make me think of silverglade. we're also not super far from stockholm (its 1 hour bus ride thru fields and forest, from downtown, ig 1.5 hour from my home) so being not so far from jorvik city also makes sense. i like valedale more than firgrove, and my hometown has a river running thru it also, so mb thats what i should go with? it also feels right being close to dino valley since both in general sweden is cold + my family is from the far north, so my identity and life experience is mixed between this central countryside province + far north.

i was in countryside elementary school irl but in town for after that, so maybe i wouldve gone to junior high and highschool in either silverglade village (if we imagine its a bit bigger) or jorvik city? my town looks relatively a lot like aideens plaza imo so maybe it would be fun to imagine i went to school in that area.... (i say my town but like, i never lived in town. i lived in the forest to the countryside and now i live in an apartment by the same forest. but i still see the town as my town)