#And a sun sets on this chapter and rises in the lower city

[coconut530]

WHAT A CHAPTER 🩷🛻🤝🏼🎆💚

[novemberheart]

{overview} The two alphas in the pack are warming up to you and you can't help but feel the same

{warnings} a/b/o dynamics, fem reader, a bit of reader backstory, poly 141 x reader

Chapter 7 <- Chapter 8 -> Chapter 9

“Sweetheart, I want you to promise me two things.” John began as you started your walk back home. “Number one, if there's a question on this thing-” he nearly growled, holding up the envelope he was carrying for you. “that you don't want to answer, don't. Nobody's business if you don't want it to be, understand?”

“Yes, Alpha.” the title slipped from your lips out of instinct. You were so focused on your own embarrassment to notice the sudden rise in his body temperature, or the way he began holding the envelopes lower. “I’m sorry-”

“Don't be,” he insisted. “You can call me whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable to you,” he assured, causing your heart rate to slow. The title ‘alpha’ certainly fits the Captain. It also felt more personal- more intimate than John. You hoped the outside air would be enough to waft away the growing sweetness in your scent.

“What was the other thing you wanted me to promise?” you reminded.

“That you'll seriously think about getting chipped. If it's a hard no, I'll understand, but it's important to me- to all of us that we set you up to be safe should anything happen.” he requested.

The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering around at lightspeed. The alpha was close to you as you walked. The overwhelming urge to just tuck yourself under his strong arm so he could make good on his promises. A whine left your throat at the understanding that you couldn't touch him yet.

Alpha's were built to keep their omegas warm. Your omega was throwing a temper tantrum at the denial.

“I’ll stop pressing you, sweetheart. I apologize.”

You quickly realized he was referencing your whine. The sound made his stomach flip.

“No- I wasn’t whining at that. I'm not sure where that came from, to be honest.” you lied. “It's probably a good idea actually. It'll help me feel safer too.” you didn't know who had taken over your mouth. Maybe it was desperation. If you got chipped that would be one step closer to being his.

“Come on, pup.” You poked your head outside your door, peering at Simon as he shut the TV off and stood up from the couch. He winced a bit as he tested how much weight he could put on his leg. He stood still watching you with dull eyes. You quickly got up and trotted over to him.

“Do you need something?” you pondered.

“Time for your walk,” he smirked down at you, making his way over to the kitchen, where he grabbed his key card and a pack of cigarettes out of the drawer. He then grabbed a black balaclava and tugged it over his head. Your brows furrowed at the tease in his voice, but you complied heading back towards your room to grab a pair of shoes. “Need to get you walking shoes.” he ‘tsked’ eyeing your flats. There was a subtle limp in his walk and you could tell he was trying to downplay it.

“Do you need a cane or something?” you poked. He shot you a look, but his hand reached up and rested on the back of your neck, causing you to erupt in goosebumps.

“This’ll do.” he shot back, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“You like being outside don't you?” he observed, watching the way your breathing deepened and a glow appeared on your face as the sun hit it. You nodded your head.

“I grew up in a crowded city. Every summer break my parents would take me to the countryside to be with the rest of our pack,” you explained.

“Split pack?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you affirmed softly.

“That’ll serve you here.” Simon commented. “You already have experience being away from the majority of your pack, along with knowing how to manage the emotions that come with it.”

“For when you guys have to do your jobs?” you clarified. He sucked air through his teeth, then hummed in agreement. When you were at the Omega house you would lie awake thinking about it, growing anxious even though you had no relationship with them. Now the thought of them leaving wasn't an entirely negative one. You hoped that they wouldn't all leave at the same time. It would give you a chance to bond with those who stayed and miss the ones who left. “How often do you leave anyways?” you questioned.

“Eager, huh?” he gave the back of your neck another squeeze. “We never know. Sometimes we’ll go a few weeks without being called away, other times we’ll just be here a few days out of the month.”

“Do you all leave at the same time?��� you held your breath.

“Sometimes.” he drew out. “That might change with you though, at least in the beginning.” he sighed. He guided you behind a large building, releasing your neck. He leaned against the side of it, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, rolling his mask up, and placing the cigarette between his lips. “You don't smoke do you?”

“No.” you nearly spat.

“Good, nasty habit.” he praised, lighting it. All was quiet between the two of you and you focused on trying to listen to the birds between the distant sound of gunfire, whirling machines, and shouting. “How’d you end up in an omega house?” he asked suddenly. He watched as you frilled up like a spooked cat.

“When I was fifteen my mom left us.” you began. You avoided Simon’s gaze even though you could feel the burn of it. “My dad reclaimed shortly after and along with that came a new pack. I didn't adjust too well.” you trailed off.

“Their fault or yours?” he questioned. You paused for a long moment mulling it over. You finally lifted your eyes from the tree line, merging with Simons. Cold and unreadable.

“I'm not sure. Mix of both,” you whispered. He got the last bit of cigarette he could before putting it out against the lid of a trash can.

“Tell you what.” he started. The grip on the back of your neck returned, as he headed back towards the pavement. “I’ll let you know whose fault it is after I get to know you a bit better.” he offered. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the slight sting in your chest at the memories.

“Hey, Peaches.” an instant smile appeared on your face at the familiar voice.

“Hi, Johnny.” you smiled up at him. You had just gotten back from your walk with Simon when John and Kyle came back to swoop you up for lunch. After they dropped you back off you were determined to finally finish unpacking.

“Need any help?” He asked, taking a seat in your doorway.

“Not really.” you sighed, looking over your horrible wrinkled clothes. “Thanks though, Johnny.” You smiled. He smiled back, getting himself comfortable by leaning against your doorframe. “Can I ask you something?” you asked hesitantly.

“Course, bonnie,” he replied instantly.

“How come you don't have an omega yet?” his smile remained on his face as he shrugged.

“I always wanted one, and I know Kyle has been thinking about it a lot lately, well, ever since Laswell had brought it up. I think the Captain was putting it off because he's a worrier. Simon is just a prick.” he whispered the last part, his eyes snapping over to the couch where Simon had passed out. You giggled, following his gaze. “I hope we didn't hurt your feelings, bonnie. I know Laswell wanted to pair you up with us sooner and we”-

“Rejected the idea?” You finished for him. He nodded his head- regretfully.

“Didn’t know it would be you though.” The smirk returned to his face, as his eyes drifted up and down you playfully.

“I don’t think Simon’s a prick.” You defended softly, wanting to change the subject. “He’s been quite nice to me. Well- all of you have.” You sighed happily.

The words he wanted to say were at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back. The truth was you seemed rather oblivious to your impact. The closest way he could describe you was addictive. Your scent, your eyes, even the way you scowled when you didn’t approve of something. You had flipped a switch in the brains that had been dormant their whole lives. It wasn't just him either. He watched the way John eyed the clock and practically sprinted out the door when it was time to pick you up for lunch. He noticed the way Kyle picked out a deep, forest green shirt today because you had absentmindedly shared you had liked the color. Just the idea that you had been chosen for them. You had been selected with the intention to be theirs. And even though you still hadn't bonded with them or been marked, the prideful beta in him rumbled at the thought.

Instead of saying all that he settled with:

“Give him some time, Peaches. He’ll come around.” he snickered.

“If you say so.” you huffed.

“We should throw your things in the dryer, Bon. Can't have you walking around like nobody’s takin’ care of ya.”

It was dark out before you knew it. You had already eaten dinner, orange chicken with white rice. They didn't have a dessert, but Kyle quickly raced to the vending machine to get you a candy bar. You smiled, curling yourself deeper into your blanket.

All of you were together, for the first time since you had arrived. John is at the very end of the couch, with his feet up on the coffee table. Kyle lying next to him, his feet nearly on his lap. Johnny was also sprawled out, he and Kyle sharing a pillow. Simon sat stiffly next to him. His pain meds must be starting to wear off. You could always tell because an annoyed scowl would appear on his face. You were curled up on the other side of Simon, and you took it upon yourself to slowly inflate your scent. You weren't sure if he knew you did it on purpose, but you felt giddy when you saw his tense muscles begin to relax.

It was John's turn to pick what to watch- although he offered to forgo his turn if there was something that caught your eye. You politely shot him down, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy. He had settled on a ‘How It's Made’ episode about kayaks, safety boots, electronic signs, and cereals.

All in all, it was the perfect recipe for sleep. A pack that you were beginning to feel comfortable with, a calm voice on TV, a full stomach, and a soft blanket.

John watched as your eyelids began to droop. You were comfortable. He was pleased with how easily you had adjusted to their pack. He knows the first day wasn't easy- or what you had hoped for. If he could do it all again, trust him, he would. But here you were drifting in and out of sleep, the smell of warm peaches and vanilla filling the air. It made his own restless mind slow, and the ache in his temples dissipated.

“She asleep?” Johnny whispered. It was then he realized the show had ended. “Should we move her back to her room?” The Scot questioned, peeling himself off of the couch. He stretched, his back popping loudly.

“Best leave her out here with me,” Simon said all too quickly. Three heads snapped in his direction. “Fuck off,” he growled. “You want me to get better or not?” he reminded. They all agreed, not voicing any other theories about why he wanted you there with him.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll see you in two days for chapter 9! 🧡

[formulawolff]

xv. everlong - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.0k

warnings: age gap relationship, team principal x driver relationship, cursing, marijuana use, alcohol use, toto being down bad per usual, light angst, toto is not the best person for a minute, mentions of divorce/separation, some lighttttt smut (the heavy smut will be included in the next chapter! promise!) oral (f! receiving), some realllll sweet n tender shit, yadayadayada

a/n: this chapter is probably one of my top five favorites, if not favorite chapter of this series. although it would be pretty hard to top chapter xii., i really enjoyed writing this one! to set the mood for the chapter, i have a few song recs to listen to as you read! please try to listen to them in order, as they really set the tone/vibe of golden girl x toto! <3 also, a huge shoutout to the anon who inspired me to write about gg x toto smoking together!! :)

little hell - city and colour

alkaline - sleep token

one way (feat. t-pain) - 6lack, t-pain

everlong - foo fighters

skin - mac miller

prev. | next.

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“toto, tell me. are you in love with her?” 

yes, susie. i am. 

she is a divine being, bringing me to my knees at the sight of her. she is the sun, a bright, radiant beacon of light and warmth. her touch alone makes me weak. my mind is consumed with thoughts of her every waking second. i’ve been apart from her for so long, i can barely hold it together right now. 

the team principal inhales sharply, letting out a shaky breath, “i – i can’t answer that.”

“you are, aren’t you?” susie’s expression is unreadable, “you’re in love with her. if this was just some fuck you wouldn’t be acting this way.”

there it was again.

that pang of jealousy deeply interwoven in her fiery retort. 

“susie,” toto begins, scrambling for formulate some sort of coherent response, “i don’t know what to say or how to respond in a manner that will make this any more–”

“no,” she holds up a hand, “you do not have to explain yourself to me any further. i know you love that girl. you wouldn’t have let her pull that little stunt if you didn’t.”

“it wasn’t just some little stunt–”

“exactly,” susie shakes her head, tears glistening in the light, “it wasn’t just some publicity stunt to you. i could tell that you enjoyed that kiss, toto. you were practically making out with her for fuck’s sake.”

“susie,” toto rises to his feet, “we made an agreement, remember? we wanted this. both of us.”

“but that doesn’t mean i have to act like it doesn’t tear me apart seeing you with someone new. someone younger than me. someone who is far more beautiful than i ever will be. someone who can bear more children for you. someone who will–”

“susie, stop. cut that shit out right now.” 

“why?” she demands, whipping her head towards the team principal, “why are you so stone cold as i’m falling apart in front of you? why does this not bother you?”

“because,” toto coughs, clearing his throat, “i don’t love you anymore. that’s why. all of those feelings, they’re long gone. when i look at you, i don’t feel love. you’re one of my good friends, one of my business partners, and the mother of my children. i feel respect, and a deeply rooted companionship. but i just don’t feel love. not even an inkling.”

her eyes narrow, “oh, so i was wrong. you’re not just in love. you’re in deep.”

“and i’m not going to stand here and play childish little games,” the team principal scoffs, “you’ve never acted this way before, and i am not sure why this girl is bothering you so badly when i’ve mentioned other women in the past.”

susie’s lower lip curls into a sneer, “did it ever occur to you that this bothers me so much because i know her? because we were friends at one point? she has a relationship with the academy, toto. i’ve met with her several times. we’ve spoken on a regular basis at one point. it just feels wrong.”

“well,” toto shrugs, “she’s going to be around for a while, susie. you may want to get used to seeing her face around here.”

“you’re fucking ridiculous,” susie snarls, raising a pointed finger at the team principal, “you’ve been a terrible father lately. you’ve been a horrid team principal. and the worst part, you’ve completely lost it. ten years ago, you would have never put your reputation on the line like this.” 

the team principal remained silent as his former wife gathered her composure, cursing under her breath as she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, nearly stomping out of the office. the department surrounding his space probably eavesdropped on the entire heated exchange, but he didn’t care. 

after monaco, it seemed like he had less and less fucks to give these days. 

licking his lower lip, toto almost crashes down into his chair, collapsing as a groan rumbles in his chest.

so much for her taking that news well. 

and if he happened to marry this girl?

oh god. 

susie would probably have a conniption. fuck, she would probably ransack his entire office, defacing each and every one of his items. shit, she would even probably try to find a way to get him fired somehow. 

well, he didn’t entirely blame her. it wasn’t like he kept her in the loop about his personal life or romantic relationships. although they had a pretty amicable relationship after their separation, the subject of new love was always like rubbing salt in a wound.

a wound that toto thought had healed. but apparently not. her explosive outburst in the office reaffirmed that. 

there was a pang in his chest, squeezing in his heart as he hunched over the desk, burying his head in his arms. 

oh, how he missed his golden girl.

god, wasn’t that fucked up. 

his ex-wife of nearly a decade just basically professed she still harbored romantic feelings for him, and here he was, fretting as he yearned over his new love. 

he needed to see her, oh so badly. 

but how? although they were only approximately forty miles apart, it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of miles between them. it was more than likely due to the nature of their current situation, but it left him aching for one singular thing. 

her touch. 

fuck, he craved her touch. the light drag of her nails against his skin as her fingertips traced along his toned back and shoulder blades. the wisp of her hair as she buried her head into his chest. the ghost of her mouth of his as their bodies intertwined together. 

her presence alone was enough to send him spiraling. 

it wasn’t like they were forced to go their separate ways between monaco and montreal. it was just suggested heavily by their pr teams that they do so, just so that williams and mercedes could launch their own personal investigations in regards to their relationship. 

and for the time being, it appeared that things were all cleared. they had broken no rules. they didn’t breach any contracts. well, not entirely. mercedes, williams, and the fia did not need to know about the hours the two of you spent discussing your decision to join toto at mercedes. 

besides, they did not need to know that you were naked, basking in the warmth of him, body tangled with his when you made that decision. 

the official contract talks would have to be scheduled here soon. 

after all, toto was running out of time. 

he needed that second driver. 

and he had you. it wasn’t entirely official quite yet, but he knew he had you. 

time to start making things official then, huh? 

not like he had to really, you already did that for him in monaco.

plucking his phone off his desk, the team principal starts to type out a lengthy text message, swallowing the lump in his throat as his thumb hovers over the send icon. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“what are you feeling for dinner over there, eeyore?”

alex’s voice snaps you out of your zombie-esque trance, your head swiveling as you glance over your shoulder, “i’ll just eat a little bit from whatever you make. i’m not really hungry.”

“oh come on,” alex rolls his eyes, yelling from across the kitchen, “you have to eat something! fuck our diets right now. what do you want? i’ll literally make anything for you. i am begging you to eat something.”

“it’s rare for alex to beg,” a giggle sounds from your right, light and airy, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea though, to eat a little something.”

exhaling, your gaze falls on lily as she sits beside you, perched in the plush chair, “i’m just not that hungry.”

“is it because of everything going on?” lily cocks her head, reaching for her wine glass, “i mean, i can’t imagine what it must be like to be you right now. you have to focus on your racing, your diet, keeping up on social media. yet, you also have to factor in your parents, your briefings, and your personal life. it must be a lot, considering what happened in monaco. by the way, what did your parents think? were they shocked? happy for you?”

“well,” your eyes drift over to the ledge of the balcony, taking in the way the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon, “they weren’t necessarily jumping for joy that i happened to fall for a fifty-two year old man. i think they’ll feel a lot better once they meet him. toto has this charm that has draws you in. i’m sure he would win them over in a heartbeat.”

“just like he did with you?” lily teases, leaning over to prod you playfully, “you know, you could have just told me and alex about him. we would’ve kept things private for you!”

“i know,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “but there was just so much risk involved with telling people about it. and i was scared of how you guys would have reacted, what you would have said, or if you would have told james or the fia or–”

“hey,” lily places a tender hand on your shoulder, “we don’t always choose who we fall in love with. we can choose how we act on those feelings, but that is just ultimately something for the universe to decide. you just happened to fall for a devastatingly handsome, recently divorced team principal.”

“i heard that!” alex calls, earning an eye roll from lily.

“i’m just trying to help her feel better! we both know that man is gorgeous!” 

“i miss that gorgeous man,” you bring your knees to your chest, resting your chin between them, “i know we didn’t have to spend the brief break apart, but our media teams advised us to. you have no idea how badly i’m fighting the urge to just tell him to take the next flight to–”

yet, before you can finish your sentence, your phone vibrates on the table, notifying you that you had a new text message.

eagerly, you snatch it up, eyes scanning over the screen. 

i miss you, beautiful girl. i’m not sure where you are, but i am taking the next flight to monaco as soon as i possibly can. i should be there by tonight. could we rendezvous at my place? if you need me to pay for your own ticket, i will. just let me know.

“what did he say?” lily peers over your shoulder. 

“he’s coming to monaco,” your heart skips a beat as the realization washes over you, “wait, i’m already here! he’ll be here tonight! he wants me to meet him at his place.”

“well,” lily’s eyes glimmer, a bright smile enveloping her features, “looks like you need to eat, take a shower, and get ready missy! alex, will you start your shower for me?”

“i already heard the entire thing,” the driver tuts as he strolls onto the balcony, two plates in hand, “eat first, and then i’ll start a shower for you. from the sound of it, it seems like you’ll have a long night ahead, so you need to eat up before you get your guts rearranged.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks at his comment, “i – oh my god. you don’t know that for sure.”

“i think i do,” a smug paints his lips as he sets the plate down beside you, “there’s a reason why you’ve been so glowy and bubbly these last few weeks. i know you’re not smoking or doing any drugs, so there’s only one other thing i can think of.”

“i cannot stand you,” you mumble, sheer embarrassment taking hold. 

“and that’s why you’re sitting down,” alex lets out a chuckle, “don’t worry buttercup, the teasing is only going to get worse from here on out.”

although you were more than grateful for alex allowing you to stay with him in monaco between the two races, it did have it pitfalls. and that was one of them. ever since you told him about toto, the teasing was relentless. it was never malicious, always lighthearted. how an older brother would pester his younger sister. which, you didn’t mind. 

ever since the meeting with williams, your emotions had been nothing but a tumultuous torrent of anxiety, regret, and well, terror. 

you were terrified that toto was going to choose preserving his career over your relationship. after all, you couldn’t blame him. he was one of mercedes’ spearheads, one of the most respected and dominant forces among the paddocks in his role as ceo and team principal. 

he was a father as well, with three children whom he loved dearly. he was perceived as a family man, who often toted jack on his shoulders or brought him along with to races. additionally, you couldn’t shake the one thing that had been gnawing away at you, completely tearing you apart. 

what did susie think of you? what did she think of your relationship? was she going to try and win toto back? did she still have feelings for him? 

if they happened to meet in the time you were apart, what did she say? how did he respond? was he guilty somehow? was he going to admit to you that after seeing her, some emotions resurfaced?

god, your head was your own personal little hell. 

and who knew if you were ever going to crawl out.

however, deep in your heart, you knew that you needed to see him. you needed to tell him the very thing that had been clawing at the depths of your very conscience. 

you loved him. 

and he needed to know. 

and by god, you were determined to tell him.

well, it looked like tonight would be your perfect opportunity. 

time to prepare for the worst.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺���₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“go on, take another hit.”

your fingers pinch the rolled paper, bringing it to your mouth. lashes fluttering, you inhale, the harshness of the contents flooding your lungs, burning your throat. once you were satisfied with  the intake, you purse your lips, smoke billowing out. 

“good girl,” he hums, fingers squeezing your thigh, “i missed you, you know that?”

the corners of your lips curl into a blissful grin, “and i missed you. so much. more than you’ll ever know.”

the lights of monaco glitter in the distance, casting a soft glow over the ocean as the waves lap the shore, foam encasing the gritty shore. hints of tangerine poke out from above the horizon, promising of the sun’s arrival. the scent of marijuana lingers in the air as toto taps the joint against the tray, his brows knit together with concentration. 

above you, stars gleam, dotting the indigo hue that swathed the sky. all around, the mediterranean sea stretched for miles, the lights from various boats and yachts blinking, a gentle reminder that you were not alone.

although, you were in your own little world, utterly enamored and allured by the man beside you. 

toto arrived to monaco around eleven-thirty p.m., not arriving to his luxurious property until about midnight. although it was well later than you expected, you were bright-eyed and bushy tailed, oh so ready to reunite with the team principal. 

even though it was well past the hours he was normally up and about, he offered to take you on his yacht, where the two of you could just spend some time alone together. 

of course, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

especially when he mentioned that he had picked up a “special treat for his special girl.”

that treat was a tin of five pre-rolled joints, neatly packed together. the papers encasing them were oh so cute, a light blue with little fluffy, white clouds. the tin itself was to die for, with snoopy as the red baron, a cartoon bubble to his right stating, “up, up, and away!” 

his plug was definitely a woman, but you didn’t mind one bit. after all, with packaging that cute? how could you be upset? toto informed you that the tin was yours to keep, and he was more than happy to keep it filled for you. you just had to say the word, and he would contact his connection. 

smoking was probably the last thing you should be doing between races, but it wasn’t like the fia was testing the drivers regularly. even though the testing was random, toto informed you that once he got the word of any potential tests, he would find a way to let you know. 

you guys had already bent the rules enough, so why not bend them a little bit more?

“hey,” his is low, so gentle it was barely audible, “can i tell you something?”

he’s situated between your legs, spreading your thighs apart as you sit on the sundeck, the cool surface sending a shiver down your spine as it meets with heated skin. 

“of course,” you murmur, a hand connecting with his cheek, “what is it?”

“well for one, i want to fuck the shit out of you right now,” his eyes are glossy, pupils dilated as they hone in on you, “but i need to tell you something first.”

there’s a slight stubble as it grazes the pad of your thumb, his plush lips parting ever so slightly, “what is it, toto?”

he’s lowered now, his mouth hovering above your pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts the only barrier between his lips and sweet, sweet, relief. the relief he had been desperate for these last few days, pacing back and forth in his office as he attempted to maintain his composure. to keep it together. 

but here you were now, looking oh so breathtaking as the moonlight cascaded down, illuminating your skin with a beautiful silvery hue. 

you were a goddess.

 a truly divine being. the one he wanted to worship every single second, every single day for the rest of his life. the one who brought him to knees. the one who made him so utterly weak. 

he was in far too deep now, deeply lost and consumed by you. 

and god, he never wanted to go back.

even if he wanted tried, he knew he couldn’t.

and now, there was only you in this moment. 

drawing him in, coaxing him to fall even deeper. 

“i love you.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[m-jelly]

Chapter 1

Thank you @ladycheesington for the perfect banner &lt;3

Vampire Levi x fem!reader

Victorian era like world, vampires, secrets, romance, falling in love, vampire lore, sexual tension, possessive Levi, protective Levi.

Story: Romance blooms quickly for you when you move to the big city. The mysterious Lord Ackerman sweeps you off your feet, but the two of you hold back your romantic and sexual desires due to unspoken fears. Something is off about the city once night falls and the secrets it holds are the reason why you both hold back. When Levi reveals he is a vampire, the two of you embark on a passionate loving romance and he opens a whole new and hidden world to you. As the two of you find bliss in each other, the vampire Queen of the city is not happy. Determined to keep her favourite pet as hers, she tries everything to get rid of you and tighten her loosening hold on Levi. The two of you must face many odds together and must make some big choices in order to remain together or lose each other in a tear and blood-filled mess.

This chapter: First meeting with Levi, the mystery of the city and what you do. Another meeting with Levi, rising romantic tension and a possible love rival.

Part 2

The flame crackled as it danced atop the candle. Hot wax trickled down the white candle and gathered on the brass holder. A loose strand of hair had escaped the hold you had placed it in. The hair lightly caressed and tickled your neck. The tip of your pen scribbled away on your paper as you focused on the open books before you. Time was ticking and the point where you needed to return home due to safety was almost long gone.

You grew up in a nice town, but city life was calling. As an educated woman, finding your way and getting a job where you could flourish was hard. Countless men turned you away or asked you to work for them only if you did something dirty. Mr Callahan was the only person who had offered you a job and meant it. However, you had your reservations.

Mr Callahan had warmly welcomed you about two weeks ago into his records and bookshop. All you did was ensure records were correct and up to date and conduct research for people who requested it. Everything was nice and you jumped right into the position, but there were a few strange things. You were warned about staying too late after work. You accepted it at first, but as the days went on it seemed that Mr. Callahan was giving you work to get you to stay longer. The time deadline was being tested.

Everything went strange when a man entered the shop three days ago. The man was in all black and wore dark glasses. His skin was white, his hair was white as snow and lightly tussled back and reached the lower part of his neck, it was slightly long and would feel perfect as you run your fingers through. When you moved past this man as you worked he just stared at you as if you were some sort of rare creature. They both went to a private viewing room for work which resulted in you staying around a lot more.

With an aching neck, you raised your head and looked over to the old clock to see it was six in the evening. The sun would be slowly setting soon due to winter getting closer. Your spine and neck cracked slowly when you turned and cast your eyes out the window to see the lamplighters doing their rounds.

You placed your pen in it’s inkwell and rose from your seat. The wooden floor creaked under your small heels as you made your way across the office to check on Mr. Callahan. You tapped your knuckles against his private office but heard no answer. No answer came, so you opened the door and peered inside to see that the place was empty. Mr. Callahan has cleared his desk for the night and left you all alone in his shop.

You were so irritated but also concerned. You raced around the building and made sure you were packed up and ready to leave. You flicked your cape around you and dragged on your gloves to fight the cold night air. Anxiety nipped away at your heart as words of warnings about the night fluttered through your head. You needed to get home as fast as possible.

The door softly slammed behind you. You twisted the key in the lock and released a sigh. The air was just cold enough for you to see your breath. It was strange for the city to be so empty, but it seemed that most people had hurried home about an hour ago. You turned on your heels and began walking as fast as you could down the road.

Your heart raced in your chest as people started to shift out of side roads. Rumours were floating around the city about monsters coming out at night. Werewolves, ghosts and even vampires were said to be around, but you tried to keep your head down and ignore the silly stories. You just got home after work, locked the door and read a book before bed.

“Hey, pretty thing!” A whistle broke the silence causing everyone to look over at you. “Slow down and come play!”

You yanked your hood up on your cape and began to almost run through the street. Home was calling you and you needed to get far away from the people who walked the streets at night. Even the police seemed to abandon this city when the sunset. The sun had almost gone, you had just a bit of a pink and orange glow to light your way.

“Come back!”

You turned on your heels and went to cut down an alleyway but a cold shiver consumed you. A woman had her back pressed against the wall as she panted and moaned in pleasure. A man slowly lifted his head from her neck to show puncture marks from two teeth. Blood oozed from her wound and trickled down to her breasts. The alleyway was too dark for you to see the biter, but the blood on their teeth glistened. Their eyes locked onto you and glimmered as they took you in.

Run.

Your brain spoke but your body remained unmoved.

Run.

The woman was released and the dark figure moved closer, their smart shoes tapping on the cobblestone path.

RUN!

Your body rebooted and strength returned to you. You turned on your heels, sprinted across the road, and past the men who catcalled you. Your lungs burned as your corset squeezed them. Running with a corset was torturous on your body, but the fear of the unknown consequences of being caught by the beast in the alleyway drove you.

Small stones crunched under your small heels as you reached the small park. A fog had rolled in from the river causing visibility to be difficult. You slowed down as you tried to catch your breath. The oil lamps had been lit in the park, but it was dangerous to be in the light. You were like a rabbit being hunted and the lights were making it easier to be caught.

You just needed to cross through the park and down a road to get to your home. You reminded yourself of your route to try and calm your heart, but it was beginning to become too much. A sob had caught in your throat. This city was supposed to be your future and now you were learning the true horrors of it.  You wanted your parents. You wanted to be home. You wanted to be sharing a cup of tea with your mother while wrapped up in a blanket.

A scream caught in your throat when a gloved hand covered your mouth. Your life began to flash before your eyes as you were dragged from the path and into the darkness of the park. Your back collided with a large. Your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, so you could not see the man keeping you in place.

Though your body was consumed with fear, something about this mysterious man aroused something within you. Even though he had grabbed you so suddenly, his touch was gentle. His natural scent mixed with a light dash of cologne was enchanting to the senses. The warmth from his body was comforting and your once-racing heart was beginning to slow.

A deep voice danced from the man’s lips as he whispered to you. “Those men followed you. They’re dangerous.”

“Th-thank you.”

He caressed your cheek as he took you in. You were so beautiful to him. “Forgive me for scaring you in that alleyway, but I was with my blood donor.”

You gulped hard. “Blood boner?”

“Your eyes did not deceive you. I was drinking her blood.”

“Vampires are real-.”

He covered your mouth and hushed you. “Not too loud. They are close.” He glanced at the path before looking back at you. “Are you new to this city? Weren’t you warned about the night?”

You nodded and waited for him to move his hand before you whispered. “My boss Mr. Callahan did warn me, but it seems these past few days he has been purposely making me stay longer.”

“What changed?”

You nibbled your lip. “A man with long hair like the colour of snow came in. He wore all back with white skin.”

“Tch, that fucker.” He groaned. “Forgive my sharp tongue.” He pressed his body against you as the men walked past talking about you. He watched them closely, made sure they gave up their hunt and turned around and returned to the street you came from. “I’m assuming you are going through the park.”

“Yes.”

He moved back from you. “You are safe to continue on your journey home. Try not to go out this late again for your own sake. You may not meet someone as nice as me again.”

You bowed your head to him. “Thank you so much for your help. I am sorry for inconveniencing you.”

He blushed a little. “Tch, there is no need for this. I wanted to help you. Go home now. I will watch from a distance to ensure your safety.”

“Thank you.” You hurried away. “Goodnight!”

He waved to you. “Night.” He waited for you to be further away before walking into the light on the lamps. Levi released a long sigh before raising his gloved hand and inhaling the scent you had left behind. “So cute and sweet.”

It was strange for Levi to become attracted and attached to someone. He knew very well he wasn’t going to part from you so soon. He wanted to see you again. Levi was very aware of Mr. Callahan’s place and was going to make sure to visit. Levi ran a trading company and owned a lot of businesses. Levi was a high-ranking pure-blooded vampire, so he held a lot of power in this city. Paperwork, records and books there at Mr. Callahan’s would help him out, but the main reason for going would be seeing you again.

Levi released a long sigh and felt shit that you had seen him in such a primal state as he fed from his donor, but he needed blood after beating a few rogue and dangerous vampire groups. Levi had gotten a few scrapes and needed to heal up, thankfully he had a donor close by. All his donors had been fully checked because Levi valued cleanliness. He was going to make sure that when he officially met you, he was going to be dressed in his best clothes and he would hide his vampiric ways from you for just a short time.

He knew he should leave you alone and be on his way, but he couldn’t help himself. Levi stuck to the shadows as he followed you through the park and reached your sweet home. He hummed in thought as he leaned against a wall while you unlocked your front door. It was clear you were still nervous and on edge, but there was something else to you. There was a hint of wanting, of need, of arousal. Levi was rather moved by your desire for him, but you were holding back.

He stared at the top window as a light came on, he was glad you had gas lighting in your home to keep the rooms lit. His heart raced like never before when he watched you in front of your bedroom window. He felt like a pervert as he kept watching you remove your dress to reveal your underdress and corset. A growl rumbled from him when you released your hair and let it down.

Levi pulled away from the wall as he felt dirty for watching you. He was determined to keep you in his life.

Mr Callahan stared hard as you moved around the shop. He released a long sigh before approaching you with a gentle smile. Yesterday he left work early and made sure you had things to do that would cause you to stay behind. The white-haired lord from the other day wanted to have you alone, but it appeared that did not happen. So, Mr Callahan needed to arrange something again.

He called your name and gave you a reassuring smile. “Are you all right? I believe you stayed late last night.”

You paused a bit and felt yourself flush at the mysterious man last night. “I did. I left just before the sunset and managed to get home.”

“Did you meet anyone?”

You hugged your books. “I met a nice gentleman who helped me home. Was I supposed to meet someone else?”

He perked up. “Did he have white hair?”

You shook your head. “No. The gentleman I met was not like the white-haired man who was here before.”

“Well, I am glad you were safe.”

You bowed to him. “Thank you, sir.”

Both of you turned to the front door as the bell dinged. A heat rushed through your body as you felt a strong attraction to the guest. Mr Callahan felt a shiver consumed him as he gazed at a very important man in the city enter his shop for the first time.

He wasn’t too tall, but a nice average height. He was dressed in all black with a top hat on his head. Small black sunglasses rested on his nose to hide some of his silver-blue eyes. His raven hair framed his pale face. His lips were slightly pink and kissable. The smart shoes he wore shined from the perfect polish on them. Leather gloves gripped his hands and made them look perfect. He held the top of his cane and tapped the bottom against the floor.

Mr Callahan hurried over to Levi. “Welcome, Lord Ackerman.”

Levi hummed at the old man. He dragged his eyes away and stared at you. He moved past Mr. Callahan and approached you. He reached up and tipped his hat to you. “Good afternoon, miss.”

You blushed as you gazed at the handsome man before you. There was something so compelling and alluring about him. You chewed the inside of your lip a little as you battled your emotions. “Good afternoon.”

He removed his top hat. “I am in need of some papers and books. Would you assist me?”

“I uh…” You gulped hard. “I can do that. I must inform you though that I am fairly new.”

He smiled and showed off two slightly pointed and sharp teeth. “I have full faith in you.”

“Thank you.” You turned. “Come with me then to a private room and we’ll talk.

“Wonderful.” He walked with you to a private room. He reached over and opened the door for you allowing him to lean in close and deeply inhale your scent. “I appreciate the help.”

You walked in first and set your things down. “I am happy to help you, Lord Ackerman.” You pulled a chair out for him. “Please, take a seat and relax. Would you like a cup of tea?”

He nodded. “I am fine for now, but thank you for offering.” He referred to the seat next to him. “Please, join me so we may talk.”

You took the seat right next to Levi as it was the one he was referring to. A blush made your cheeks hot and the warmth of the man next to you was intoxicating. “So, what is it that you would like to research?”

“I am interested in a few things.” He placed his hand in his blazer’s breast pocket, retrieved a piece of paper and presented it to you. “I have compiled a little list.”

You opened up the paper and scanned the page. “I can do that.”

It was hard not to be entranced by you and how you looked, talked and spoke. Levi was enamoured by you and the divinity of your beauty, scent, voice and intellect. Every moment you worked together was a blessing and pleasurable. As the books piled around the two of you, you both worked hard and gained the information Levi wanted. Often Levi found himself gazing at you as if you were this work of art that was produced by some goddess and was only for his eyes.

It was hard to focus with Levi so close to you. His scent was enrapturing. There was this supernatural pull between the two of you as if a divine line was linking the two of you. Forever tethered together through your hearts and fate. When you caught slight glimpses of his dazzling eyes your heart soared in your chest. Though his smiles and light chuckles were rare, they were all the more a blessing to the eyes and ears. Levi was a mystery you wanted to solve and he also thought the same about you.

You released a small yawn. “Forgive me. That was rude.”

Levi gently caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and fingers. “There is no need for such words. I have stolen much of your precious time today.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch as your body and mind craved more contact. “It has been rather enjoyable though. I am sorry for taking much longer to help you with your research. Mr Callahan would have been faster.”

He retracted his touch. “If I desired my arse to be kissed, I would have gone to him. I needed fresh eyes and a delicate precise touch. That is why I sought you out.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Most people would disagree with you on that.” He slowly ran his finger under your eye. “You should get yourself something to eat and drink.”

You nodded. “I will. Would you care for anything?”

“A tea. I will add something to it.”

You frowned a little before watching him pull out a flask. “Alcohol?”

He shook his head. “No, it is a medicine.”

You gasped as your heart went out to Levi. “Are you unwell?” You leaned closer and placed the back of your hand against his forehead. “You are slightly cold to the touch.”

Levi closed his eyes as he enjoyed your touch. “I am always cold. I have low blood pressure.” He opened his eyes and smiled at you. “This medicine helps with it. I am well, do not worry.”

You lowered your hand. “If you insist.” You held your breath as you shift to your feet. Bodies close to each other. You got a closer inspection of Levi. A warmth spread over your cheeks as you locked eyes with Levi as he gazed over the top of his glasses at you. “I will get you that drink then.”

Levi tore his eyes away from you. “I am grateful.”

Nerves bubbled in him as he remembered your gaze. He was always so cautious with looking someone in the eyes without his glasses to create a barrier. The eyes of a vampire when looked deeply into captured most people in a deep trance. Most were willing to do anything for that vampire. He dragged his sunglasses off and placed them on the table. It was clear that you were not strongly moved by his vampiric gaze as your affection for him appeared before you locked eyes.

The light tap of the tea tray broke Levi’s thoughts. He gazed up at you and smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He unbuttoned his coat and peeled it off his body to reveal the form-hugging suit under. He retrieved his flask and poured the blood into his tea. “Are you enjoying the city life?”

The intensity of his gaze made your body burn with desire. Words failed you for a brief moment. It wasn’t Levi’s eyes that had you hypnotised, but it was everything about him. “I am. Though, I must say it is rather scary at night.”

“It can be.” His actions were graceful when he collected his teacup and sipped from it. “I could provide protection if you allow it.”  

“Provide protection?”

The seat creaked as he shifted closer to you. His alluring heat and scent mixed and made your body vibrate. His kissable lips parted ever so slightly. “The police here are not adequate at night. I would be happy to provide my assistance.”

You hummed a little laugh. “Are you proposing something?”

“I just wish to return the kindness you have shown me today.”

You retracted from Levi and faintly smiled as your heart stung. “There is no need. I’m just doing my job.” You signed off on the last of the papers and pushed them over to Levi. “Here is everything for you.”

Levi frowned as you rose to your feet. “Are you leaving me?”

“Of course, you have no need for me.”

A loud scrape filled the room as Levi’s chair dragged across the wooden floor. He stood before you hurt by your sudden declaration that you were leaving. “Have I offended you?”

You shifted to the door but Levi blocked your escape. “You have not, but there is nothing much left I can do here for you. Do contact me if you desire more tea though.”

Levi knew there wasn’t much he could do, so he moved away from the door and accepted his loss. There was something deep within him that wanted to possess you and have you as his, but you wanted to leave and he knew very well he shouldn’t force you to stay. He bowed his head as his mind raced at all the things he could say or do.

He clenched his fist tightly as he fought his emotions. “I will call upon you if I need you. I will miss your company.”

You bowed your head. “How kind, Lord Ackerman.”

“Levi, please.”

You gripped the handle tightly. “I will see you soon, Levi.” You left the office and felt the reassuring and comforting aura leave you. A long sigh escaped you once you were outside the private room. You made your way through the hall and back out the front. “Would you like a drink, Mr Callahan?”

Mr. Callahan gave you a weak smile. “I am all right, my dear.” His brow creased as he studied you. “You seem troubled.”

“I have a lot on my mind.”

He placed his hand on your upper back as guilt consumed him. Although he had spoken to another Lord with white hair who craved you, the guilt of it all was suffocating him. He was conflicted because he wanted to protect you but he feared what would happen if he did not comply with this man. If he didn’t do as the man commanded, then he would go to the vampire Queen of the city. The Queen was someone to be truly frightened of.

Mr. Callahan smiled at you to give you a little comfort. “You know the young handsome gentleman with white hair?”

You chuckled. “You seem to bring him up often.”

“Well, that’s because he was rather taken by you.”

Your heart swelled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He moved closer to you. “It must be lonely in this city. You only have me as a friend. I am not telling you to court him, but perhaps you could meet him and spark up a friendship?”

You contemplated it for a moment and weighed up your situation and decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to get to know the white-haired man. “Very well. I will meet with him.”

“Wonderful. I will inform Lord Lucius Demont that you wish to meet.”

Lord Lucius Demont had a rather fitting name for who he was. Lucius meant light and Demont meant one who was filled with desires. He was a man of action and took what he wanted when he could. He was graced with good looks from what you could remember. Icy blue eyes with delicate long lashes would entrance anyone who would look into them. A strong jawline was complimented by his plump lips and pale skin. He was rather tall with broad shoulders and covered in muscle. His hands were large but in the good way that people wanted gripping them with prominent veins. His white hair wasn’t short nor was it long, but it was in the middle. His hair was styled messy that went down his neck and reached the base.

It didn’t take too long before the man himself entered the shop. He had such a commanding presence within the room. Black sunglasses rested on his nose to hide his icy eyes. He scanned the room and landed on you. He closed the door and moved over to you. Each step he took towards you made both your hearts race. He placed a large gloved hand against his pec and bowed slightly to you.

Levi had instantly sensed there was a rival pure-blooded vampire near. He moved to the door and spied on what was happening. Levi felt anger bubble away inside him as he watched Lucius introduce himself to you. It was well-known how smooth Lucius was with women and he had many running around him little a gaggle of geese. However, it was becoming clear that Lucius wanted you more than just another follower. He was a dangerous man to be around because of how close he was to the deadly vampire Queen.

You fiddled with your dress for a moment as you felt nervous. With Levi, you were comfortable and happy around him with some naughty desires but with the man before there was something not fully right, as if your gut was telling you to be careful. You wanted the floor below you to swallow you up so you could hide. You were tired and confused and you just wanted to disappear.

Lucius smiled a little. “Forgive Mr Callahan, I believe he has been rather pressuring towards you due to my mentioning that I was rather taken by you.”

You hummed a moment in thought. “I was put at risk one night due to working late. I understand that you both wanted to arrange something, but I do request that if you have desires towards me you talk to me instead of arranging things behind my back.”

“Allow me to say sorry by taking you to dinner.”

The thought tossed around in your head for a while before you made a choice. Loneliness had made its home in your heart and there was this longing within you to be wanted by someone and it seemed that someone was before you. “I suppose I could go, but I would much prefer a lunch as the night here concerns me.”

Lucius took your hand in his and placed a delicate kiss against your fingers. “I shall take you on that lunch date tomorrow.”

“I am off work that day. So, I shall meet you at the park near here.”

He raised his head. “Of course. How about at twelve?”

You bowed your head. “Yes.” You looked over at Mr Callahan. “May I leave early?”

Mr Callahan smiled softly. “Yes. You have been overworked. Go home early and I will see you in a few days.”

You retrieved your outdoor cloak and made your way over to Levi’s private room, which he hastily retreated into. The door creaked as you pushed it open. A divine scent filtered out of the room and wrapped around you. No matter how much you fought it, it was hard to deny the fact that you were attracted to everything that was Levi.

Levi was standing to the side so he was close when you walked in. He softly said your name causing you to look up at him. “I heard you coming. Is everything okay?”

You hummed at him. “I am going home. I just wanted to let you know as I have been with you all day and I did say I would come running to help you.”

“Well, I am finished for the day. So, I would like to walk you home.” He moved closer to you. “Only if you allow it.” The cloak slipped off your arm as Levi removed it. “If you told me to leave you alone, I would.”

You lowered your head. “That is the issue though, Lord Ackerman.”

Levi was speechless when you looked up and returned his gaze. His vampiric powers gave him the ability to move people and yet in this moment, he was moved by you. “Issue?”

You nodded. “I am unable to tell you to leave me because I don’t want you to. I desire your presence and yet I barely know you. I feel as if something is binding us together.” You placed your gentle hand on his chest. “Like there is a string binding us.” You retreated from Levi. “Forgive me. I am assuming so much.” You dragged your hood up to hide a little. “You may escort me if you wish.”

Compelled by your words and the feelings within him he could not stand by and let you walk away. Levi firmly wrapped his hand around your upper arm and squeezed. With a gentle tug, he returned you to him. “Wait a moment and I will go with you.”

You moved over to the table and looked over the papers and books on it. “Were you able to get what you needed?”

“For now, but I will return often as my view is rather nice.”

“View?” The realisation hit you causing your heart to race. “Oh, thank you.”

He pulled on his outdoor attire and turned to you. “I wish to use this room tomorrow. Would it be all right to leave everything as is?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He raised his arm slightly as an invitation for you to take it. “Shall we?”

You wrapped your arms around Levi’s presented one and allowed him to escort you. A sweet smile spread across your lips as Levi moved with you through the building. Luckily for you both your guest and boss were nowhere to be seen, so you both could leave the building without anyone pestering you. It was a comfortable quiet between the two of you as you walked together with the sun setting behind you. This time you had plenty of time before the nightlife came.

It was clear to Levi how desperate people were to get out into the streets tonight. He could sense the tension in the air. Something was up with this city, it was as if people’s hunger and arousal had been intensified. Levi needed to get you home as soon as he could to ensure you were safe. The two of you had only met on two occasions, one of those you weren’t aware of, and spent all day today together and yet there was something so comfortable and right about you walking together and him protecting you.

It occurred to Levi that he knew where you lived, but he wasn’t supposed to. So, leading you to the park was the right thing to do but would also be suspicious. “Please, lead the way to your home.”

You glanced up at Levi. “Through this park and a bit further and we will reach my home.”

“I will protect you.”

You hummed a sweet laugh that was music to Levi’s ears. “I have full faith in you.” A thought plagued your mind as you made your way to your home. “Lord Ackerman?”

“Levi, please.”

You gasped as you felt slightly embarrassed at the thought of being so informal with a customer, but it was his request and you wanted to get closer to him. “Well, Levi…”

“Yes?”

You pondered upon your thoughts. “Why are you showing me such kindness? Is this unique to me or is this the same kindness you show others?”

Levi came to a stop outside your home. “It is unique to you. I have not cared for nor taken a fascination with a person before.” He caressed your cheek with his hand. “There is just something out you I find so compelling.” He retreated from you as a familiar voice in his head warned him about getting so close to a human. “Rest well and I will see you soon at the shop.”

A strong blush burned your cheeks when Levi’s lips lightly pressed with the back of your hand. “You too, Levi. Rest well.” You reached over and lightly touched under his eyes. “You seem tired and troubled.”

He backed up from you and knew he needed to draw a line between the two of you. He was torn. He wanted you so badly, but being together would put you in great danger. The Queen has an obsessive and watchful eye on Levi. For your safety, it was best that this relationship remained a business one even if you both felt something much stronger.

Levi tipped his hat. “Goodnight.”

You clutched your chest and shyly waved as Levi parted from you. “Goodnight.” You too had similar feelings to Levi. This city was dangerous and you were only new here. There was a worry in your gut that being involved with Levi or Lucius would mean harm would come to you. Being involved with either would mean crossing into the world of night, and from what you had seen so far the nightlife was the dark face of the city. No matter how much you told yourself to stay away, your heart just kept longing for Levi.

[tumblingdownthefoxden]

"The Assistant and The Star"

Chapter 1: Standard Routine

*11 years later

It was shortly after dawn and the sun was rising. Atop a grand hill stood Asha and another girl. Before them stood easels with canvases where they painted the sunrise.

Asha looked over at the other girl's painting. "Oh, Bazeema. That is an excellent shade of pink. How did you get it?"

Bazeema showed Asha her wooden palette. Using a clean brush, she took a dab of red paint, a dab of white and a touch of yellow before mixing it all in the center. "Oh, I see." Said Asha before she repeated the process. Asha places a few strokes of pink on her canvas before stepping back to admire her work. She thought it was grand. Asha looked around the forest and back to the sunrise before releasing a light sigh. "You were right Bazeema. I do feel better. I really needed this after last night."

The previous night, Bazeema and her mother were working late to finish tending the royal garden when they came across someone trespassing through the moss trees. When asked about their whereabouts, the person simply said they were looking for someone who owed them a favor and tried to push past them. The gardeners kicked out the heckler and would later find Asha hiding under a moss tree. She was hiding from a heckler that was chasing her near the castle. The same heckler that they just kicked out. Bazeema helped Asha get home and invited to take her uphill to paint the horizon before they went to work.

"Hmm. Do you want to leave now? We're a long way from the castle and I don't want to make you late for work." Asked Asha.

"It's still pretty early but we could leave if you want to. I'm finished with my painting anyway."

Asha added her signature onto her canvas before packing up her art supplies. They traveled for 30 minutes before reaching Asha's home. Outside the house, sat Mama Sakina brushing the fur of a baby goat. The goat noticed the two and bounced over to the pair. Excitedly braying as he pawed (hooved?) Asha's legs.

Asha giggled. "Good morning, Valentino. Happy you're awake as well."

"Good morning Asha. Hi Bazeema. How was the sunrise?" Greeted Sakina. "Good morning, mama. It was beautiful. I'm getting better at painting as well." She said as she lowered the canvas to Valentino's eye level. "What do you think buddy?"

Valentino cocked his head and paced side to side in critical thought before giving an approving bah. "Thank you very much." Replied Asha. She raised her canvas and looked back to Sakina. "We're just going to set these to dry and go to the castle." They placed their paintings against the wall of the house.

"You're going into the city now?" Sakina asked, concerned. "Can't you take the day off today? It's the middle of the Summer festival and there's a Wish Ceremony is today. It's going to be crowded in town square. It could be dangerous."

As she said this, Saba Sabino came outside. "Here's some food for thought. Why don't you celebrate your Saba's 100th birthday all afternoon and evening? Take a break from everything happening in the city."

Asha paused at the offer. Two years ago, she was interviewed and accepted to become the King's assistant. A role that allows her to help manage the wishes, prepare magic ingredients, and many other things. Rumor has it that the King's assistant will not only have their wish granted sooner than most, but can get other peoples' wishes granted.

Asha is quite famous in Rosas, but it is a perverted form of fame. Asha had more than her fair share of hecklers and fake friends. It only got worse during the solstice and equinox festivals. Today would be one of the few times that the King will grant wishes on the same night as a Wish Ceremony, and people will do whatever it takes to be sure that the "insurance" will deliver their wish that night.

"I know but this is the most demanding day and I have to help the King. He needs me to help choose the wishes to be granted and test the performance of his new spells." She began stroking her locs. "I know yesterday was… dramatic, but I can find another route and Bazeema can help me get home without anyone noticing."

Sabino sighed, a little sad. "Okay, if you must. But if I may suggest, that soldier fellow you know. The one near the castle. You can ask him to take you home as well."

"Simon? He's a castle guard, not a soldier. And he's on the night shift, I can't ask him to take me home."

"You get off of work near sundown. Simon's shift starts at midnight. He should have time." Bazeema rebutted.

"But he's asleep around that time. It's a long way to and from the castle and it would be rude to interrupt the little rest he gets to-"

"He will not mind." Sakina placed a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Simon is one of your oldest and truest friends. He will not antagonize you for needing his help. He won't ask for anything in return." She smiled.

Asha sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll ask him." She said before going inside the house. Entering her room and opening her closet, she searched through a set of 10 masquerade masks to wear on her trip. They were a gift from Magnifico to help her travel unrecognized. She picked a golden ibex mask and changed into her assistant's uniform. Asha grabbed her leather bag from a nearby chair and put on a dark hooded cloak over everything.

Walking out to the living room, she heard a gasp from Sabino.

"Oh, stars above! La muerte?! Oh, is it my grand daughter's time already?" He knelt down, trying not to smile. "Oh, please. Have mercy on her. Take me instead."

Asha laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not dead yet, Saba."

"You will be if you keep working yourself like a mule." He teased, standing up. "But if you're going into the city, maybe I can take advantage of crowd and play my music for them to hear." -He went to open a cabinet and pulled out a mandolin case- "Maybe, they will pay attention this time." He whispered to himself.

"You know, I could try to get your wish granted tonight." Asha offered. "Maybe find out what it was." Sabino chuckled. "No need to stress over finding it. I wrote it down before I gave it to the King. Now I wait for it and attempt to achieve."

"Oh." Went Asha. "What did you write?"

"It's a secret." He whispered with a smirk.

"Saba!"

Sabino just laughed at her frustration. "Well, what would like for a present?" Asha asked.

"If you find a little trinket in the market that I could add to my collection, that would a great bonus. But all I need is for you to come home in time for cake." He said with a smile.

Asha hugged her Saba goodbye and left the house. She hugged her mama and walked up to Bazeema. "Hey Valentino? Are you coming?" Asha called. Valentino hopped up to follow but Sakina picked up before he could approached. "Hold on there, mister. We can't have you go into that chilly castle without your pajamas, can we?" Sakina sat down on the grass criss crossed and positioned the little goat back on her lap. She pulled tiny pajamas from her pocket and fitted them over his head. "There you go." She chimed as Valentino ran over to Asha and Bazeema. "Watch over her, please. I love you all." She called to them. "We love you too. Goodbye." Asha called back as they made their way through the forest.

A while later and the trio made it to the outskirts of the forest, just outside the city. Asha stood in admiration of the festival decor around the area. Streamers of red and yellow. Banners for the rising and setting sun. Blue, unlit lanterns strung above the street. The streets weren't filled with people yet but enough to dissuade going through town square. They had not noticed a hunter at the edge of the forest looking their way in suspicion. Something about the cloaked figure seemed familiar but they weren't sure why. Then it hit them.

"Hey, are you the veiled assistant?" They called out. "I want to ask you something!" Valentino took notice and headbutted Bazeema's leg to see the hunter approaching. In a mild panic, Bazeema took Asha's hand and they bolted down the outskirts towards the docks. "Hey, where are you going?" The hunter cried after them.

After a short while, they made it to the docks. "Are... Are we... still being followed?" Asha panted, hanging onto her knees. Bazeema looked back and saw no sign of pursuit. "No, we're safe. But we need to find Dahlia and Hal. They can take us down a new route at the docks."

"Okay. Woo... Let me catch my breathe first."

After a good 7 seconds, Asha straightened her back. "Wait, you didn't tell Dahlia about last night, did you?" Bazeema was silent and only interlocked her fingers. "Oh no! Bazeema! She's going to be all over me!"

"But she can ensure you get in and out of the castle!" Bazeema beamed.

They approach the city where two other girls stood by. One with a crutch and anxious look. The other with a basket looking out at the nearby ships on the horizon. The anxious girl looked their way and squealed. 'Oh boy,' thought Asha. "Hi Dahlia. How are y-" Dahlia tackled Asha in a bear hug before she finish speaking. "Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Please take off your mask!" Was all the girl said. Asha complied with the request and lifted the mask from her face. Dahlia spared no time before taking her face into hands, turning it side to side to check for any bruises. "You're not hurt? They didn't reach you? Oh, I should've been there with you!" Dahlia panicked.

"I'm alright, Dahlia." Asha reassured. "They grabbed my cloak but I got away." The last sentence did anything but reassure Dahlia. "THEY TOUCHED YOU!? Oh ho! No! Do you remember their face? What they wore? Do you have their name?"

Hal came up and tugged at Dahlia's dress with her free hand. "Go easy on the lady, Doc. We still need to take her to the door." Dahlia took a deep breathe and let go of Asha's face. "Sorry. Okay. It should be this way." Dahlia led them past the great bell tower to a large wooden door that she swiftly unlocked with a key hanging on her belt. "This is the delivery route. The cooks use it to quickly bring in new shipments of food and herbs into the royal pantry." She opened the door to a dark hallway. "There are wall windows further down but it's stained glass so people should only see your shadow."

Asha looked inside, worried. "What if I get lost in there?"

"It's a one way path. Wherever it's too dark to see, just feel for the wall and follow it."

The 5 of them jumped as the great bell tower rang out to announce new arrivals coming to Rosas. Hal looked out to the ships about dock. "It's time, Dahlia!" She said. "You'll be fine Asha. See you tonight! And remember, you're the Goat!" She praised with a finger gun. Valentino brayed annoyed. "Oh, right! You too Valentino!" She said, petting his head. Asha placed her mask back over her face and the two entered the hallway, closing the door behind them. Dahlia will lock it once they're inside the castle. The three remaining girls returned to the gate to meet the approaching newcomers.

"Good morning and welcome. Glad you could make it here. My name is Dahlia Akaboshi and I will be your tour guide for today. These are my friends, Bazeema and Hal." She took the basket from Hal's hand. "Would you care for a muffin. Gratuity from my parents, the royal bakers." The guests took a few muffins and looked around. "So, shall we begin? Come this way." Dahlia looked back at the now open gate and the three girls led the new comers into Rosas.

A/N: Tumblr freaked out on me and this got deleted 2 times but things came out better. The story became much more extra than I anticipated but I like how it's coming along. I'm giving my girl a major internal conflict. I'm hoping to draw out my rewrite of "Welcome to Rosas".

@annymation @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @chillwildwave @kstarsarts @rascalentertainments @emillyverse @uva124 @oh-shtars

[numinous-void]

disclaimer: this is the first comic project ive ever done. i welcome constructive criticism though!

it’s mostly a comic, but each one will have little written blurbs. like a half fic, half comic!

CANNIBAL STARS ARC 1: HELLO STARS!

CHAPTER 1: DEAL!

New York City 1921.

Hidden under Lady Bloom’s Book Store is perhaps one of the most ritzy speakeasies around, lush, extravagant, flashy and swimming in snobs, celebrities, and rising stars. In turn, this makes for the greatest hub for foraging a name and connection with others. Whether or not bridges are built or burns depends on the mind of the player. A striving theatre actress and bold clothing designer, Rosalia reclines on a dark brown leather couch with a glass of red wine and tells herself it’s to loosen up before she gets on stage. Truthfully, she earns some extra income by performing at night as a flapper as her fiery and boisterously proud attitude gets her glares from potential scouters- not to mention her unconventional appearance of strawberry blonde and red hair and tall stature can make her a hard sell, not meeting the typical vision for a woman. She scoffs at every glare and remark. She knows she should lower her head to achieve her goals but she’s much too proud to let herself get treated any less than how she feels she deserves.

Her recent move from Boston, Massachusetts down to New York has proved beneficial- and many more men are less willing to fight with her as she’s sure there’s no shortage of women like herself there. Perhaps tiring men was a hobby of hers.

For the past 2 weeks in Lady Bloom’s Bookstore, she’s been making quite the name for herself as a flapper- but someone’s name she doesn’t know, someone’s name she absolutely wants to know, sits at the bar. He never seems to drink too heavily- sometimes he seems to drink water or nothing at all. He seems to have quite the tall stature but Rosalia is almost certain she will dwarf the man as that occurs as many times as the sun sets and rises.

She swirls the wine around in the glass cup, not quite as beautiful as the red color of blood but perhaps that could be fixed should someone lack decorum. Mimzy, who honestly serves as the manager for the speak easy as she’s always there to perform, approaches her. They always appreciate a good gossip session.

“My dear Missy Mimz, what your opinion,” Rosalia asks with a quirked brow without giving time for a proper hello,

She continues, “on Mr. loner there?”

Mimzy swivels her head around to follow Rosalia’s gaze.

“Hah! Thats Alastor… Ya gonna take a crack at ‘em?” Mimzy teases.

Rosie is almost taken aback. Not in any offensive manner, however it was odd to hear as she has been able to charm any man, should they be they object of her desire.

“Am I that obvious?” Rosie curiously asks, Mimzy gives a giggle.

“Nah! Ya’d just be damned if you thought YOU’RE the first one.”

“Ack- what? He some lounge lizard?” Rosie asks.

“Haha! You’re killing me, hon. He’s quite the opposite. Al only ever shows up alone and leave alone. 100$ ya can’t break em!” Mimzy challenges.

Rosalia feigns hurt, scoffs and playfully rolls her eyes.

The pair move from the couch, rising from their playful little deal. Rosie being the confident individual she is has zero doubt in her ability to win. She had been able to woo any man she wished to, that is until Rosies fiery flam of an attitude never settle. Rosie dusts her dress, ready to change and doll herself up for the night…

thank you for getting to this point if you have🥲🥹

[tigerspite]

I've been creatively bankrupt but this finally crawled out of my WIPs after sitting there for like. Six months or more. Bon appetit.

Read the rest of The Devil's Claw here

-

CHAPTER ?? / The Disgraced

“What have I done to deserve you gracing my presence?” Eramis drawls, her head cocked to an angle that speaks more of measuring her visitors than a genuine question. 

“We noticed you had some gaps in your crew records from the recent…incident,” Solkis says, eyes flicking to the Captain - Reviks, her last surviving son - hovering behind her. Although shrouded by a large cloak and hood, he averts his gaze from the Hunter, choosing instead to study an incoming Skiff on the opposite runway with an intensity that Scribes would find admirable. 

Wethraks grimaces, braced for retaliation. Being forced to ground her Ketch at Heathrow Spaceport for repairs due to the actions of her son, who should have known better than to lead a raiding party without her permission, has been the talk of the city. Her communications with the Lair are more terse than usual, and he has not dared to intrude on her time. Giving her time to grieve for not only the loss of her crew, but the loss of her son's common sense and lower arms, seemed the only polite course of action. 

Solkis does not fear her. And he guesses that is why he receives a click of mandibles from the Shipstealer that suggests he continue, rather than a derisive statement and a retreat back up the loading ramp of her Ketch. 

While held hostage and dragged across the city with as much dignity as could be mustered, shackles keep him from endangering anyone. The longer he looks, the longer Wethraks wonders if they would be enough to stop him should he turn, or whether he could shatter them with a flex of his wrist. 

“I brought a replacement for one of them.” He steps aside to reveal his gift. A Dreg with a ruddy brown-orange exoskeleton, clothed in scraps of leather and cloth between a cobble of mismatched armor. More disturbing are the lower arms he should not have, flesh bound to metal through a thick layer of uneven scarring gouged deep into the shell of his torso. The prosthetics are little more than steel bars and exposed wiring formed into the crude shape of limbs, built for function over form. 

“Devils nominate themselves to join my crew. You bring a mutilated Scar Eliksni in handcuffs,” she counters. “Why should I take someone who has to be forced to work, and who rejects our banners?”

“He lived on the same Ketch as us during the Drift, he knows about work.” Solkis lets out a dark laugh, nudging their guest forwards. “And his name is Taniks. His House-pledge still isn’t confirmed, but Ursaviks has a use for him.”

Her eyes narrow. “You miss my point.”

As the two launch into debate, Wethraks remains still and tries to fade into the background. The ‘Dreg’ standing hunched between them glowers up at Eramis, lower arms twitching and steel claws flexing. An aura of rage as strong as a thousand suns emanates from him. Given the chance of freedom, it feels as if he would eviscerate every Eliksni on the runway there and then, and realising that he would be the first and closest target makes him shuffle a few inches away. 

"Look at him. He's harmless," Solkis’s voice cuts through her concerns, giving Taniks another shove so that he might be pulled into her Ketch by proximity alone. It earns him a warning growl and a glare over his shoulder, hackles raised. 

“Then release him.”

Taniks’s growl only rises as Solkis fishes in a belt pouch to produce the key without a moment of hesitation, tensing and leaning away from him. As soon as his arms are freed, he pushes him away and hisses, wild-eyed. Straightening up to his full height, he sets his shoulders back, like posturing and challenging will make him run. 

Eramis raises her head, watching his display with careful, guarded interest. When Taniks turns his ire back to her, she looks down her muzzle and gives an amused snort. 

Like a match set to tinder, Taniks lets loose an enraged snarl and lunges forwards, teeth bared. 

She steps back, just out of his range, and his swipe lands short. He takes another step to attack again before Solkis snatches him backwards, locking and twisting one of his upper arms behind his back to force him into retreat. 

A deliberate, and failed test. 

The look of contempt and disgust exchanged between the two Barons, for what Wethraks senses are entirely separate reasons individually, could have triggered a lightning storm.

“A ‘harmless’ liability,” Eramis grates. “Ursaviks must think I'm a fool to accept this offer.”

Solkis jerks Taniks back again to fit the cuffs around his wrists, straining to contain him. “You’re the best Baroness to teach him some manners." 

“He is capable, in the right hands-” Wethraks adds, left hanging as she interrupts.

‘Of what? We left him alone on the Drift for a reason,” she gestures out with one arm, encompassing the time since she last laid eyes on him, and that spent on the Long Drift. “My crew needs shipwrights and skilled workers. Not an animal who would murder myself or others for a perceived slight.”

“The placement is on Ursavikskel’s orders. You take him, whether you want to or not.”

Before she can reject the demand, Reviks finally speaks up, “I can take him,” 

“No!” Eramis snaps, spinning so fast to stop him that Wethraks flinches. She hisses something under her breath about his authority on her ship, all falling on deaf ears as he moves past her to join the negotiation.

“It is my fault that he's here, so he is my responsibility.” Reviks says, stepping forward with his arms spread and head low in apology. "Let me take him. I can keep him under control, and away from the others."

“As long as someone does,” Solkis chirrups with delight, holding out the keys to the new crewmate. 

Wethraks casts a sidelong glance at Eramis, chittering in quiet apology for what has been caused. Through her ferocious scowl, he watches the gears turning in her mind as she weighs up the decision, and whether she could argue and defy her way out of all duty to the charge thrust upon her. While docked and in disrepute, she has the right to overrule Reviks, but that would burn a bridge he needs to cross. Something useful may come of Taniks, and of burdening her family with him. 

Eventually, she concedes, her arms and shoulders drooping. She turns her back on them, beckoning the two towards the loading ramp. "Do not make me regret this.”

"I promise you won't. And if you do, it won't be my fault.” Solkis calls after them, chittering with laughter at his own remark.  

“She will still blame you.” Wethraks mutters.

He chuffs. A given, and not one that concerns him. Eramis has found her reasons with others when required, and his treatment won't differ. Starting to walk away from the Ketch, he replies, “I’m an emissary. She should know to blame the Kell.”

Dithering, Wethraks remains fixed on the three as they depart. Although Reviks has a tight grip of his charge, Taniks writhes in his hold. He thrashes, twisting his head to stare back over his shoulder at where his captor and assistant were meant to be. 

In that last look, his eyes lock with Wethraks, burning with malice and sharp as knives. 

Even when he disappears into the depths of the Devilship’s hangar and is long out of sight, Wethraks swears he feels the sensation of his talons around his throat.

[caspersickfanfics]

Late Arrival Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1 Here

This was written to fill @monthofsick day 14: Can't Keep Anything Down

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting, fever, nightmare mention, slight anxiety, bad jokes

Anon asked:

Could I make a request for can’t keep anything down with sick Cyno? I feel like Tighnari would try really hard to get him to eat or stay hydrated or try some home remedies but…Cynos stomach just can’t handle it right now…

Tighnari wakes, warm and cozy, curled up against Cyno, only because of his alarm. There’s a moment of disorientation, confusion because he isn’t in his own bed or even in his own home. He doesn’t often use an alarm, instead rising with the birds and the sun. There’s no birdsong, here. Only background noise from the city, and Cyno’s labored breathing.

The sound brings Tighnari both clarity and concern. He remembers why he set the alarm while in the process of blearily shutting it off. With heavy limbs, he stumbles around the place until he manages to grab a glass of water and some medicine from his own belongings, which still rest in a messy pile near the door.

When he returns to the bedroom, he hesitates. He loathes to disrupt Cyno’s rest. If he ignores the rattle in the his airways, the sweat on his temples, and the way his whole body occasionally shivers, the matra looks peaceful. It’s reassuring to see him relaxed to this degree. Outside of playing cards and eating meals, the two of them often spend their precious little time together snuggling or napping for this very reason. With the intensity of their jobs, they both struggle to unwind. For Tighnari, at least, there’s something about watching his partner sleep that helps rebuild a sense of safety. He can convince himself that nothing bad will happen to either of them when they’re wrapped up in blankets together, secure enough to close their eyes and sometimes, now, even dream.

Still, the last thing Tighnari wants is to let his sentimentality get in the way of what is necessary. Cyno is a light sleeper - that he slept through the alarm is moderately disquieting - so Tighnari traces the soft lines of the sick man’s face with a hovering touch and scratches his head. He barely stirs.

“Cyno,” Tighnari speaks quietly, absently teasing white hair. The fever has risen. His voice is an odd pitch and louder than he intended when he speaks again. “Hey, Cyno. Wake up.”

There’s an incoherent mumble, muffled by blanket. Tighnari peels layers of off him and Cyno makes a noise of distaste.

“I know.” A slight note of regret shimmers in the air, but apology loses in the war against pragmatism, at least for Tighnari. “We need to get your fever down.”

“’s too cold,” the matra slurs. His hands grasp at the air blindly, no doubt seeking the covers.

Tighnari nods and helps him to sit up. “Chills,” he explains. “From the fever.” He mixes the medicine in - a natural herbal powder that’s meant to lower and stabilize body temperature - before handing the glass over. “This might taste a bit odd, but it should help. Do you think you can keep medicine down right now?”

Cyno nods, looking suspiciously more determined than he does confident. His hands shake as he takes the glass, so Tighnari helps guide it to his lips. “Drink slowly. Just a few sips is enough.”

“A few sips” is all it takes for Cyno to clamp his mouth tightly shut. His throat bobs threateningly and he leans back, eyes closed. He’s clearly trying to keep his stomach under control, but he’s so feverish that he can hardly hold his head up.

“Breathe in through your nose. Slowly,” Tighnari instructs. He reaches for the trashcan beside the bed and pulls it close. When Cyno lurches forward with an aborted heave, tears escaping out of the corners of his eyes, Tighnari sighs and lifts the bin onto the bed.

“It’s okay, Cyno.” He brushes sweaty hair away from his partner’s face. Cyno shakes his head and Tighnari can’t help but smile fondly. Stubborn as usual. Sure enough, though, it doesn’t take long before a coughing fit racks Cyno’s body. Tighnari helps him lean forward and rubs his back, wincing as he begins to retch. Inevitably, the fluids come right back up, splattering against the plastic. Cyno continues to gag, his body straining unforgivingly until there’s another splash of liquid. He groans, shudders, and flops back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m sorry,” he sniffles miserably, rubbing at wet eyes and coughing weakly. 

“Hey,” Tighnari looks at him sternly. “It’s not your fault. The medicine must have been too much.”

Cyno might agree, if he had the energy, but he’s too busy trying to prevent his teeth from chattering.

“I’m going to get some plain water. When you’re ready, we can try that, okay?” 

Tighnari looks painfully hopeful, but Cyno can’t even bring himself to nod. His stomach aches, hollow and angry. Now that it’s been upturned, it refuses to settle. He’s left burping up rancid air, drool pooling in his mouth until he’s spitting it into the waste bin. He’s suffering through lingering dry heaves when his partner returns.

“Oh, no.” There’s a clink as Tighnari puts the glass aside in favor of rubbing Cyno’s back through each painful retch. It’s a sweet gesture, both grounding and comforting. It’s nice not to be alone. Tighnari nudges him and offers a glass of water once his stomach lets up. “Just rinse your mouth out, for now.”

It doesn’t take the nausea away by any means - queasy tremors still rattle through him relentlessly - but Cyno feels moderately more human once the nasty taste has lessened. His eyelids droop. 

“Cyno, honey,” Tighnari says. Cyno’s thoughts are a fog of confusion, but his chest warms pleasantly. It’s not common for Tighnari to use terms of endearment, even when they’re alone. The mood is quickly dampened by his next words. “Do you feel up to a bit of water?”

Cyno can’t help the pitiful whine that escapes him. “Sleep.” He’s halfway to begging and hates how fragile his voice sounds. Then Tighnari’s hand is weaving through his hair, feeling like salve on a burn wound.

“Soon,” Tighnari agrees. “Drink this first?”

If Cyno were to firmly resist, he knows that Tighnari wouldn’t force him. He also knows that Tighnari is worried. He breathes slowly and manages a few sips. 

Instantly, the water sloshes in his stomach. That persistent chill is replaced as his body warms over uncomfortably, pricks of sweat forming on his temples. He closes his eyes and hands the glass back to Tighnari, feeling the forest watcher’s eyes on him all the while. Cyno suppresses a heave. 

Exhaustion weighs heavy upon him; he can fall back asleep, he thinks, and then it will be fine. Surely, it will stay down. That’s all he really needs - just a bit of water in his system to prevent dehydration, to reassure Tighnari. Tired as he is, sleep takes him quickly enough.

———

The next time he wakes, it's brief. No more than an hour has passed. Cyno is dizzy. He feels ill. He’s hardly aware of his surroundings. He doesn’t hear Tighnari asking if he’s okay, so he doesn’t respond. His stomach dips, and burning liquid hurtles up his throat, out his mouth and nose. Some clarity returns to him, then. He’s made a mess. His bare chest is sticky. He thinks he might be crying, because Tighnari is soothing him with great care, wiping him down with towels. Cyno is cold again, and very saddened to find that he still has no covers. “I’m sorry,” he hears Tighnari say, and then the world drifts away.

———

Tighnari watches Cyno curl onto his side, trembling, and aches. He massages the sick man’s back. Any patient unable to keep fluids down for going on six hours, at a minimum, is concerning, regardless of whether a bond with an otherworldly being enhances their body’s general durability. Tighnari’s expertise in first aid only goes as far as the tools he has at his disposal. If, for example, intravenous fluid administration becomes a necessity, he’ll have to drag Cyno to the Bimarstan, kicking and screaming - maybe literally, with the near-delirious state he’s in. Considering his traumatic history with Akademiya “medicine,” his reluctance is justified. In all fairness, Tighnari is also not fond of the idea, for reasons of his own. The Bimarstan is truly a last resort.

“We need to get your fever down,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He isn’t sure Cyno can hear him, but he gives him one final head scratch before standing. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time Tighnari returns with lukewarm water and a few clean towels, Cyno has drifted off again. Even in sleep, his body shivers. “This is probably going to feel cold to you,” Tighnari warns. He’s relieved when, as he places a wet towel on his forehead, Cyno only shifts slightly. For the next few minutes, Tighnari works to cool the matra’s skin with the additional towels, careful not to dampen the bed.

There’s little to do after that but wait and repeat the process roughly every hour. The time passes slowly. Tighnari cleans the trash bin out and tidies the apartment. He makes mint tea, and then soup. He writes Collei and Kaveh with updates: he plans to stay in the city for at least another three days to ensure Cyno’s full recovery, and may stay longer if necessary. He entrusts Collei and a few other forest watchers to assist in covering his duties while he’s away. Tighnari aches a bit, thinking about Gandharva Ville, and he drifts back to Cyno’s side to, once again, simply watch him sleep.

This time, though, his brow is furrowed, teeth clenched. His body tenses and curls further inwards. When Tighnari touches his shoulder, he wakes with a gasp.

“You’re okay.” Tighnari speaks softly, watching the other man attentively. He’s still tense and breathless, but he nods. He’s trying to play it off. Tighnari lets him. He waits, giving Cyno space to calm his body.

“I’m okay,” Cyno echoes, simultaneously reaching for his hand. The forest watcher offers it without comment and waits for Cyno’s breath to returns to a more normal speed. Despite the nightmare, Cyno looks better. More lucid, certainly. Tighnari touches his wrist. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Cyno says, smiling. “‘m still sleepy.”

Tighnari nods, a sigh of relief shaking its way out of him. “I would expect so. Your body is healing, after all.” He checks Cyno’s temperature and is pleased to find that, though the fever is still there, it has definitely improved since a few hours ago. Cyno drinks water without complaint and appears unfazed afterwards. Rest really can work wonders.

“Tighnari,” Cyno speaks slowly. “Can the stomach flu impact your memory?” The question instantly shoots fear back through Tighnari’s veins; as though it never really left. His chest feels tight and his brows furrow.

“Well, you did have quite a high fever, which can have that effect, although it’s highly unusual and would be cause for concern. Why? What’s going on?”

Cyno’s expression changes minutely. He doesn’t smile, but the glimmer in his eye is the equivalent of a smirk. Tighnari realizes what’s coming a second too late to interject. “It’s just that, I once heard a pun about amnesia, but I can’t remember how it goes.”

Tighnari groans. He knows his expression is blatantly fond, so he hides his face in his hands. It’s reassuring that Cyno is joking again - albeit less so that it may be at the cost of Tighnari’s sanity.

“What?” Cyno continues. “A little joke when you're sick never hurt antibody.”

“Stop.”

“Fine. I have a joke about the flu but I’d hope you don’t “get it,” anyway.”

Tighnari gives up. He rolls his eyes and simply doesn’t respond, letting Cyno rattle off some justification as to why puns are hilarious. The frustrating thing is that the jokes really have relaxed him, which was no doubt their intended purpose; silly as it is, hearing Cyno back to his usual antics has eased some tension that Tighnari hadn’t even noticed building inside him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. For once, though, he doesn’t cut Cyno’s explanation short, content letting the words wash over him, even if he pays little attention to the meaning behind them. Cyno looks tired but proud as he wraps up his little speech, and Tighnari doesn’t hide his affection this time.

It’s only another 30 minutes or so before Cyno falls back asleep, but he’s been able to keep the water and a bowl of soup down for the duration. With the worst of his worries placated, the exhaustion catches up to Tighnari all at once. He snuggles in next to Cyno. If he can’t stay awake to watch him rest, then sleeping right beside him is the next best thing.

———

Chapter 3

———

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[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XII: I’ll Call You Beautiful, If I Call At All

nav | masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter xi

summary: seattle always brings out the sentimentality in you, and eddie’s feeling it too.

tags: slow burn, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!gn!reader, mutual pining, forced proximity, fake dating, confessions of feelings (finally), some fluff, lots of angst, consumption of alcohol

a/n: this is one of my favorite chapters i’ve ever written. thank you to my lovely partner and beta reader @children-of-the-grave for helping me come up with an album title and doing the grunt work of proofreading. love you forever.

-

July 1990

Eddie takes another gulp of his beer before slamming it into the recycling bin. “Y’know what, we’re done. I’m not doing this anymore.” He slurs his words as you watch, eyes glazed over with tears.

“What do you mean? We can’t be done if we weren’t anything to begin with.” You’ve had a couple drinks yourself, and the effects are taking a strong hold.

“Perfect! I don’t ever wanna see your face again, got me?” He doesn’t mean that, not even close. But he can’t do this casual hook up thing, not with you. “We don’t know each other.”

“You’re right. I’m not sure we ever did.”

-

Present Day

Your POV

You wake up to an empty bed, the space Eddie once occupied now cold as your eyes open, reorienting yourself. Outside the tiny window, the sun is rising over the Washington horizon, and you feel a wave of peace wash over you. After tonight, you have a whole week off to do whatever you want, in a city that’s become a kind of home to you since leaving Eddie.

Seattle is special, a place you never mind being in, even with its constant rain and uptight citizens. It’s the place grunge was born, and a place you’ve always thrived. Playing here is a dream come true, and you can only beg the universe for it to go well.

The tour buses pull into a rest stop off the highway, and you shove the comforter off your sweaty body. You’d slept fully clothed, something you hadn’t done in a number of years. With the added layers, plus Eddie’s extra body heat, your hair sticks to the sides of your face.

Sliding open the door, Steve greets you with a sleepy smile. “Morning! Sleep alright?”

“As well as I could, all things considered.” You try to hide your embarrassment. You’d slept better next to Eddie than you’ve slept in your own bed, but that’s not something Steve needs to know.

“Well, you’re free now. Go grab some food, we’re almost at the hotel.”

You nod and shuffle through the bus, weaving through the guys of Corroded Coffin, who stand in the hall chatting and chewing on what look to be soggy French fries. You notice Eddie’s voice lower as you approach him and Gareth in the breakfast booth.

“Aw, leaving already?” Gareth teases as Eddie avoids your eyes next to him.

“Haha, yeah. I can tell when I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Eddie’s eyes flick to your face, and you challenge him with yours. You want him to tell you you’re still welcome, you’re always welcome, but he doesn’t say a word, so you turn and exit the bus.

-

Eddie’s POV

The door clicks shut behind you, and Eddie turns back to his bandmate. “Anyway, as I was saying, I have never jumped out of bed so quickly in my life. I woke up and they were like, pressed into me.”

“Were you hard?” Gareth chokes out a laugh at Eddie’s flustering.

“I’m only a man. Of course I was! I debated rolling onto the floor and just never getting back up.” Eddie grins as he speaks, remembering the panic as he bolted upright in bed, dick stiff against his sweatpants as you snored soundly next to him.

“You think they know?”

Eddie shrugs. “God, I fucking hope not.”

Gareth cackles and Eddie shoved him playfully. Truthfully, it was the best sleep he’s gotten in awhile, and he’s forced to admit it’s because of you. Everything about your presence stresses him out, but sleeping next to you has been something he’s mourned for the last two years.

“You guys all set to get moving soon? Ed, go get some food, I haven’t seen you eat in days.” Steve’s standing over the little table, hands on his hips like he’s a soccer mom disappointed in her poorly performing child.

“Yes sir,” Eddie mockingly salutes his friend, who responds with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Eddie slides out of the booth and off the bus, the humid air hitting him in the face as he walks into the rest stop.

You stand with Robin and your other bandmates, in line for greasy burgers as you wipe the sleep from your eyes. You’re still in your sweats and a shredded t-shirt. You lean your head on Robin’s shoulder, seemingly fighting sleep from taking over again. Eddie gets in line behind you, careful to keep his distance.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Robin turns to greet him, her eyes wide and sparkly.

“Mornin’, Bob.” Eddie grumbles, voice raspy from lack of much use yet today.

“Sleep okay?” He hears the teasing in her tone, but chooses to ignore it.

“Well enough,” He looks at you, and you’re studying the tiles on the floor like a museum exhibit. “I’m ready for a week off, though. Might fly out to Indiana early, go see everyone.” Eddie hasn’t been back since he moved out, shortly after graduation. “You guys got any plans?”

Robin shrugs. “I’ll probably go back home in a few days.”

You nod. “I dunno, I live out here now but it would be cool to see everyone. I’d need to get a hotel, or maybe,” you look at Robin, “my ever so lovely best friend can house me?”

“You know you’re always welcome, my mom adores you.” You beam at her, and Eddie fights the urge to stare, your bright smile now a rarity he likes to cherish when you’re not paying attention.

You and Robin order your food, bidding Eddie adieu for now. He gives you a small smile, but you don’t return it.

-

The buses pull into the hotel parking lot, the rain coming down hard now. He grabs his duffel from under the bus, using it to shield his hair from the weather. Steve is talking to the concierge, looking far more stressed than usual.

“What’s up?” Eddie leans an arm on the hotel desk, and tries to ignore the way the young girl at the desk ogles him.

“They don’t have enough rooms.” Steve rubs his face in frustration.

“Okay, no problem, we can all share.” Eddie’s trying to be optimistic, much to the confusion of his best friend.

“Well, I mean, we definitely could. I’m not sure how that would work, honestly. They have enough doubles for most of us, but-“

The hotel clerk interrupts. “I mean, if you and Y/n take the single, you’d all be set!” She’s practically squealing.

“Ah, so you know who we are, then?” Eddie jokes, causing the girl to blush.

“Of course I know who you are! And Y/n, and both of your bands. I’m a huge fan!” She rambles on, and Eddie feels a pang in his chest. There’s no way you’re gonna let this fly.

Steve sends Eddie a questioning glance, and he shrugs in response. “You’ll have to talk to them. I’m adaptable, I’ll manage.”

As if on cue, you’ve appeared on Steve’s other side. “Why’re you all stressed, Mama bear?” you tease, poking at Steve’s bicep playfully. “Did this lovely lady reject your advances?”

Steve groans. “No! I’m not being creepy, we’re trying to sort out the room situation. They have five. Four doubles, one queen.” He doesn’t continue, awaiting a reaction.

You blink at him. “Okay, that’s enough for everyone, no?”

“It is, if-“

“If Eddie and I take the queen? Because everyone else here is completely platonic with a capital P?” There’s not a hint of irritation in your voice, much to Eddie’s surprise. It’s then that your eyes land on him. “Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says dumbly, barely hearing you over the banging in his chest. “That’s fine. What’s another night?” He winces as it comes out, realizing how it sounds.

You nod curtly, tight lipped before you look back to Steve. “Book ‘em, big boy. No need to be dramatic.” You give him a pat on the shoulder. As an afterthought, and meeting eyes with the enthusiastic concierge, you approach Eddie again. “I’ll see you tonight, then? If you decide to come back in the first place.” Before he realizes what happens, you’re on your tiptoes. In his ear, you whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you on the cheek now. Because it’s gonna make this girl lose her mind. Okay?”

Blood is pounding in Eddie’s head as he nods. Your lips barely graze his cheek, warm and soft against his scratchy stubble. He closes his eyes, but before he can focus, it’s over, and his cheek is cold again.

“Bye guys! Bye,” You squint at the clerk’s name tag, “Hannah. Nice to meet you, thanks for your help.” You turn, and shuffle back to the elevators, probably to relay the news to your friends. Eddie can feel Hannah’s eyes burning into his skull, but he refuses to acknowledge her again, worrying his eyes will betray him. He’s never been a great liar.

Steve looks at his stunned friend, the smallest of smirks on his face. “You alright over there?” Eddie doesn’t answer, so Steve grabs him by the wrist, waving goodbye to Hannah, who’s still hypnotized by the whole interaction. Once out of earshot, he tries again. “Yoo-hoo, earth to Eddie?” He waves a hand in front of Eddie’s blank stare, snapping him out of his trance.

“What? Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m great! I’m totally, one hundred percent fine.” He clamps his mouth shut, stifling the panic that will probably return to him later.

“They haven’t done that yet, huh?” Steve teases, no longer hiding his smirk. “You gonna be able to handle this whole fake dating thing?”

“I’m handling it fine, thank you.” Eddie snaps, and Steve raises his hands in defense. He’s not handling it well in the slightest, really.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll drop it. But you gotta work on your poker face if you wanna be believable. Even if I had no idea, I’d be pretty skeptical right now.”

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie brushes him off as the elevator dings, and they both step inside without another word.

-

Your POV

“I need a fucking drink!” You flop, face first into Robin’s bed as you groan. Buried in the mattress, you feel safe enough to let it out. Because you can’t do this anymore, and you’re starting to push your luck. “I’mstillinlovewithhim.” Your confession is muffled by the fabric, and the only clue that Robin understands you is her reaction.

“Yeah, no shit!” Don’t think I didn’t see what you pulled down there!”

“What I pulled?” You push yourself back to your feet, jolted by the irritation in her voice.

“Kissing him like that, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.” Robin bats her eyelashes, singing a recap of the events in the lobby.

“I’m supposed to do that, Robin. I’m being paid to, actually! I was told to.” You inject as much venom into your words as possible, and Robin bites her tongue to stop from spitting back.

“Okay. You’re right, you’re right! Just,”

“Just. What.” It’s a challenge. You’ve absolutely had it with the peanut gallery. Between her and Steve, you’ve gotten a verbal retelling of every single time you and Eddie are together.

Robin has never been the type to back down from a challenge, though. “There were no cameras, Y/n. Just a starstruck fan you probably caused the heart failure of. You didn’t have to,” She flails, gesturing to your body, your face, you, “be so all over him.”

You stop short, breath caught in your throat. “Are you defending him?” Of course not. No, she wouldn’t.

“He was my friend too, Y/n. And I cut him off for you.”

Her words sting. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Not in so many words! But I saw how you treated Steve when you caught him and Eddie having a drink. You didn’t talk to him for a month.”

You don’t have a response. She looks at you, eyes wide with what you can finally recognize is anger. “You left Eddie because you thought he changed, right? Have you realized yet that maybe you changed?”

You gnaw your bottom lip until you draw blood, heart quickening as you feel a sob blooming in your chest. Before you can stop them, you feel the tears running down your cheeks.

Robin is quick to notice, and flops onto the mattress. She pats the bed next to her, and you take your seat. “What would be so bad about trying again?” There is no more accusation in her voice, she’s past fighting with you.

You sigh, resting your head in your hands. “I don’t want to admit I was wrong.” Robin is silent, so you look back up to her. She’s stifling a laugh. “What?!”

“Sorry, just hearing you say that threw me off. I know how much you value your pride, but if there’s anyone to let your guard down for, it’s gotta be Eddie. It’s always been him.”

“He just got so different when he started getting famous. I don’t know what happened in the last two years to make him revert like this, but-“

“Seeing you again probably had something to do with it.”

You keep your eyes glued on hers, searching for the punchline. “Please. If it was because of me, he wouldn’t have changed like that in the first place.”

“Okay, maybe not just because of you, but think about it! He got signed, what, only months after graduating? Moreover,” you giggle at her suddenly expansive vocabulary, “He was probably still reeling from, I dunno, almost dying? We all were. He just never got the chance to grieve, let alone get a good night’s sleep! Seeing you after all of that, when he’s been without steady ground to stand on for two years, has to be a slap in the face.”

You blink at her, debating on arguing further. You settle on a question. “Have you been talking to him?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Lately, yeah. In passing. But it’s always been for your benefit. Before that, I’d only heard snippets from Steve, and I kept most of them to myself.”

You flop down onto the pillow, letting Robin’s words continue to wash over you. You’ve admitted to yourself that you miss him, that you want Eddie back, but the hard part still awaits you. How the fuck are you supposed to tell him?

-

Eddie’s POV

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this, man.” Eddie sits on the end of Gareth’s bed, grabbing the stray drumstick from the bedside table and twirling it anxiously through his fingers. Gareth lay against the headboard, visibly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What, you finally gonna tell ‘em how you feel?”

Eddie shakes his already throbbing head. “I gotta break it off.”

Gareth’s eyes are wide, suddenly alert. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know they don’t wanna do this. I don’t either. It’s a fucking sham anyway, I thought we were against that shit.” Eddie pushes himself back to his feet, pacing the length of the hotel room.

“Dude, I know you just came here to vent or whatever, but can I give you some advice?” Eddie looks to Gareth finally, and his expression is pleading.

Eddie could use the help, too. “Please.”

“Throw it out there. Worst case scenario, they don’t want ya back, you grieve a little, get laid a little, and move on. But you can’t keep doing this tiptoe bullshit. It’s exhausting to watch.”

Despite himself, Eddie chuckles. “You make a good argument.”

“What stopped you, this time? You used to have no shame.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest.

It’s an easy answer. Eddie has thrown fits over this question, wondering what changed about his internal wiring to cause such a glitch in his ability to use his words with you. “Because now, I know what it’s like without them. And if I fuck up, if I say something I can’t take back, then I’m living in that reality. The one with no them. No Y/n.” His face is getting warmer with embarrassment as he blubbers, but Gareth doesn’t even crack a smile.

Instead, he rises from his spot on the bed, opening his arms to Eddie. Eddie takes the offer, quickly wrapping his arms around his friend. “Thanks, man.” His words are muffled by Gareth’s vest.

He pats Eddie on the back warmly. “Anytime, bro.”

The two release each other, awkwardly laughing at their circumstances. “So, what’re you gonna do?” Gareth’s question is barely audible.

“Whatever I have to.”

“Okay, man. But maybe take a nap before we have to leave for the gig. you look wiped.”

-

Your POV

You’re in search of your third, fourth, and fifth drinks of the night. You’d only asked for two on your rider, one for before your set and one after, but you’d downed them both within minutes of arriving at the venue.

The house is slowly filling with people as you make your way to the bar, speakers wailing along to Seattle’s finest. Currently, Call Me a Dog floats through the room, and you let Chris Cornell sing your feelings for you, not caring that you probably look insane, swaying dreamily along to the music by yourself, hair half done, empty bottle in your white knuckle grip.

The bartender approaches you, and you order another drink as you feel a presence looking over your shoulder. You have a 50/50 shot of guessing who it is in this low lighting, but you don’t wanna risk being wrong, so you shift to look behind you.

“Hi, Steve.” You can feel his disappointed glare as the bar man returns with your cocktail. You make a scene of hiding the glass with your body as you pull it closer to you.

“You still have an hour before you go on, and you’re already wasted.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question, but you nod anyway. “What’s goin’ on?”

It’s tiring, repeating yourself. You almost wish you hadn’t told Robin to keep it quiet. “I’m gonna tell Eddie I still have feelings for him.” It’s a confession, finally saying the words out loud. Steve’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t object. He sits beside you at the bar, hunching forward to hear you better. “I’m so sick of pretending I don’t feel anything for him. I don’t know how he feels about me, and I think this is the only way to find out.”

“Or, I mean, you could just take my word for it. Or Robin’s, or anyone else’s.” He snickers as you shove him. “I’m kidding! I think it’s a good idea, finally put these dramatics to rest.”

“I just don’t know how to do it, it’s like I forget every word in the English language when I’m around him.”

“Trust me when I tell you it won’t matter. Whatever you say, he’s gonna fall apart. He’s already in the palm of your hand, dude.” Steve wraps his arm around you, squeezing you tightly. You rest your head on your shoulder, sipping your vodka cran and letting the alcohol give you courage.

-

Eddie’s POV

He watches as you rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around you. It stops him in his tracks, seeing you huddled like that with one of his best friends. It’s like he’s hit in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. He knows he has to end it, for real, for good. You don’t feel the same way about him, it’s clearer to Eddie now more than ever.

He’s about to walk over to you, but he’s caught by a figure in his peripheral vision. He meets the eyes of a small girl with spiked hair and clanging metal on her jeans. He waves to her shyly, unsure if she’ll have the courage to approach him.

She gains it from the acknowledgment, though, and shuffles up to him timidly. “Hi, oh my god. I’m so sorry for being weird, I wasn’t sure you wanted to talk to anyone. It’s so nice to meet you!” She extends a manicured hand and Eddie shakes it. “I’m Izzy. Would you mind signing this?” She holds out a record, Corroded Coffin’s first album, Depravity of Doomed Souls. The cover depicts a man facing away from the camera, looking out into a horizon of burning red sky, clouds thick and dark hanging over him. Below him are the skeletal hands of a crowd, clawing at where the man stands on the top of a platform. Eddie holds it for a second, chuckling to himself.

“Man, this thing is ancient. We wrote this four years ago.” He scribbles in the top right corner, To Izzy, stay metal! -EM similarly to how he’d once signed his friends’ yearbooks.

“It got me through my senior year. Especially Martyrdom and Other Mistakes. It made me feel seen!” The sentiment makes Eddie smile. He never gets sick of hearing how his music has impacted his fans. It does suck, though, to relate the that particular track.

“Man, of all songs, huh?”

Izzy shrugs. “Satanic Panic was huge at the time, and I was, well,” she gestures to her outfit, a collaboration of leather, studs, chains, and spikes.

Eddie nods. “But look at us now, huh! Rockin’ out, just like we were in high school.”

He hands the record back to her, and she smiles at the autograph. “Hey,” she adds, as Eddie searches the bar for you, but you’re gone, probably setting up for your set. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Ah, fuck it. He’ll see you later, anyway. “Sure.”

-

He’s three beers deep when your set ends. Izzy’s been talking his ear off. “And Y/n is so fuckin’ cool, man. You got one of the sickest songwriters and group of performers on your tour. Do you know if they’re single?”

The question snaps his attention back to her. “What?”

“Y/n. Are they single?” Does she not know? Has she never picked up a magazine?

“Uh,” What is he supposed to say? Technically, you are. And he doesn’t want to get in the way of a possible romantic interest. However, to the public, you’re not. You’re dating him. Izzy’s cool, sure, but she’s still the public. He can’t tell her it’s a sham, that’s above his pay grade.

Izzy speaks again. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on anything.”

“No! No, it’s okay,” Eddie rushes out, stumbling for an answer.

But Izzy studies him, and sees something on his face that makes her say, “Oh, I get it.”

He doesn’t. “Get what?”

“You like Y/n, you must! How could you not?!” How the fuck is he so easily read that a stranger can do it?!

He scoffs out a nervous laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Izzy smirks like she’s discovered a secret. “Well, you guys would make a terribly attractive couple. Consider me rooting for you.”

“You got any advice?”

Izzy laughs. “Not for you specifically, considering your, uh, status. But, in general, I’ve found it better not to lie. Don’t spare your feelings, or theirs. Tell ‘em everything. Because one day, you might be dead.”

Eddie sits with her words, and knows deep down that she’s right. Lying to you isn’t going to make anything easier. He has to know, for sure, that you don’t feel the same way about him. Eddie’s about to respond when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to make eye contact with Steve’s arms, crossed over his chest. “You're needed on stage.”

“Yessir,” Eddie bows to Steve, who rolls his eyes before walking back towards the stage. He turns to Izzy. “Thank you for the drinks, Izzy. And for the enlightening conversation.”

She snickers. “Knock ‘em dead, Eddie!” She claps her hands together, cheering him on.

-

Your POV

“Well?” You’ve been pacing the hall backstage while Steve went to find Eddie. “Who is she?”

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t bother to even introduce me. But she had a Corroded Coffin record, must be a fan.”

“Or a groupie.” You mumble. You’re about to keep arguing when Eddie rushes past you, gulping the final sip of his beer.

“Hey, Y/n,” Eddie stops short when he sees you, his face red and hair disheveled. “Can we talk later?”

You’re already thinking of the worst case scenario. He’s gonna tell you he wants nothing to do with you, even for the press. He and Izzy hit it off and you’re getting left in the dust. You fight the thought, though. Regardless of what it is, you’re gonna tell him what you have to. “Sure, yeah.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear “Great, cool. Uh, meet me outside, like an hour after the set.” You nod, lips pressed together.

The house music fades, the final lines of I Want The Moon fading as the lights dim, and the crowd goes wild. You watch as Eddie walks onstage, holding himself well despite the amount of alcohol he’s likely consumed. His smile is bright as the spotlight hits him, and Gareth clicks his sticks together.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS UP, SEATTLE?!” Eddie shrieks into the mic, and Corroded Coffin takes off into their set, deafening you with the first chord.

-

You’re by the stage door when the final notes of Corroded Coffin’s set play, muffled by the brick of the building. You stub out your second cigarette, still anxious for what awaits you. You don’t have the first clue as to what Eddie wants to say to you. He could be ready to break this whole thing off, and then what? What will telling him do then? Should you tell him first? But then, will his feelings be influenced? The last thing you wanna do is try to convince him.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the stage door swings open. Eddie peeks out quickly, making sure there are no stray fans or paparazzi hiding in the bushes. “Hey, you.” He greets, stepping into the floodlights. He pulls out a cigarette and pats his pockets. When he comes up empty, he groans. “You gotta light?” You nod, flicking your lighter up to his cigarette. He inhales with his eyes still glued to yours, but you watch the flame intently. “Thanks.”

You reach for another stick for yourself, and light it quickly. “What did you, uh, wanna talk about?”

“Right to it, huh? No ‘Great show, Ed!’ Well, love, your set was fantastic too.” He’s being playful, clearly still buzzed.

“My apologies, your highness. You’ve set the record of most panties dropped in one place.” It’s a low joke, but you’re desperate to keep talking around the reason you’re both really out here.

“Oh yeah? Were yours included?” Oh, fuck off.

You shrug. “That’s for me to know.” Eddie laughs heartily, and you almost melt on the spot. You used to be so good at making him laugh, and it’s so hard to remember the last time you managed to. “Anyway,” you interrupt his cackling, “please, the anticipation is killing me.” You gesture for him to speak.

Eddie’s smile falters slightly, clearly affected by your palpable anxiety. “Right, yeah. Izzy’s a fan, by the way.”

“Ooh, Izzy. She was awfully snuggled up to you tonight.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I could say the same thing about you and Steve.”

“How many times do I have to assure you our relationship is Platonic with a Capital P?!”

“Things change, Y/n! For all I know you two could be bumpin’ uglies once a week.”

Your jaw snaps shut before you can hurl an insult at him. Instead, you quiet your voice. “Can you just tell me what you needed to tell me? I didn’t come out here to fight about who’s fucking whom.”

Eddie sighs. “Fine. But for the record, Izzy asked me to sign her album. Then, she bought me a drink and told me how pretty you were. That’s it..” You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Eddie frowns. “I’m serious, she asked me if you were single!”

“Has she not read the articles? I’m supposedly dating you.” It hurts not to mean it, but joking around with Eddie feels vaguely comforting.

Eddie shrugs. “She never mentioned seeing that. But she did call me out in a way.” He’s quiet, so you nod for him to go on. “She clocked me looking at you. Guess I’m pretty transparent when I’m drunk.” His smile is shy suddenly, and before you can answer him, he speaks again. “Listen, I uh, I don’t want to do this fake dating thing. I thought about it, and I think it’s stupid.” You bite your lip to keep from arguing, or interrupting despite the insatiable urge to shriek. Eddie continues, not noticing your struggle, his brow furrowed in determination. “Cash grab or not, it’s fucking with my head. It’s already too much to see you every day. and doing all of this,” he gestures between you and himself, “on top of that, is exhausting.”

You wait for more, but nothing comes. You search his expression for a hint, a cause for why he doesn’t want to be around you anymore. You can’t find anything. “Oh. Okay. I’m really sorry if I did something that-“

Eddie shakes his head, cutting you off. “No, not at all. It’s nothing like that. I just,” he stops, chewing his bottom lip in thought. “I don’t want just some of it.”

That wakes you up. “What?”

“Y’know, the flashy stuff and nothing else? Holding your hand, a kiss or two for the fans, but then we run away from each other when we’re alone. It’s not…” He searches for the right word, “enough for me.” Enough? As in, he wants more from you? You don’t answer, struggling to understand where he’s going with this.

“I mean, I can talk to Steve. Maybe he can talk to the execs, get the word out that we ‘broke up’ or whatever.” You’re trying so hard not to cry as you speak. You got your answer, he doesn’t want it anymore.

“Or,” Eddie takes a step closer to you, and you lose your nerve. You feel a single hot tear slide down your cheek as Eddie searches your face for your answer. Seemingly without thinking, Eddie reaches up and wipes it away with his thumb. “You could tell me how you feel.”

It’s now or never. “I’m thinking,” you start, voice shaky. “I think you’re right. It’s not enough. We need to get married.”

Eddie startles. “Sorry?”

You laugh despite yourself. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t have a ring.”

He rolls his eyes at your weak attempt at humor. “Can you not joke about this for like five seconds, please?” Eddie pleads, and you soften as you look at him. His eyes are wide, still locked on yours. “I need to know I’m not crazy.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You and I both know you are, in fact, crazy. But fine, I’ll try to appease you.” It’s your turn to step closer, and now you’re only two inches apart. “In all seriousness, I can’t do it either. I don’t want to hold your hand because people are watching. I wanna hold your hand because I can, because I want to. I wanna kiss your stupid face in front of everyone and no one, I wanna sleep next to you by choice and not for convenience. I’m so tired, Eddie. I’ve been so tired trying not to feel this way, but I can’t make it stop.” You talk to his chest, too afraid to look at him. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you, the real you, until this tour. I hadn’t seen that version of you, that smiles and laughs and fucks around with his friends, in so many years. It’s like you came back to life.”

“You know why, right?” Eddie keeps his voice low, as if trying not to break the moment. His hand reaches for yours, and he plays with your fingers as he speaks. “You know what finally brought me back to life?”

You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes. But Eddie, ever the tactile gentleman, cups your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “C’mon. I’ll give you one guess.”

You don’t answer, lost in the big brown eyes you haven’t really looked into since leaving him. Everything you two have gone through since meeting hits you like a ton of bricks. From surviving high school, to the Upside Down, to getting signed, to breaking up. Through it all, he was going through it right next to you. You shake your head, refusing to believe what he’s saying.

“You.” Eddie halts your speeding train of thought with one word. “Watching you perform, listening to your music, reading your interviews. Even just knowing you’re right outside, in the other bus. I meant it when I said I’d give it all up for you, Y/n. But, if I can be so brutally honest, I think I’d love having both, way more.” He’s so close, you can feel his breath on your face. You don’t pull away, despite your brain screaming at you to run away. “Now that I know how to behave.”

After a beat, you speak. “You can, y’know.”

“Can what?” He raises an eyebrow, cheeks red.

“Have both. You know I’d never ask you to choose.”

“Even though you know I’d choose you?”

You shake your head. “Stupid choices, Eddie, you keep making them.”

“I’m about to make another one, I think.”

“Oh? And what choice would that be?”

“To kiss you.”

You swear your heart stops. You can’t breathe, and your hands are sweating. “What if I’m about to make that stupid choice too?”

Eddie smiles widely, and so do you. Before either of you can ruin it with more babbling, Eddie rests a hand on your cheek. You crane your neck to reach him, letting the noise in your brain be silenced as his lips touch yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, as if he’ll disappear the moment you open them. Your hands find their way into his hair, and his free arm wraps around your waist. The kiss is slow, gentle. His lips are slightly chapped, dry from the beer, and he tastes like cigarettes and him. He feels the same, like the past two years didn’t happen, like his lips never left yours. You grow eager, suddenly, pulling his face as close as you can manage, fingers twisting in his hair to keep him on you. You feel the wet warmth of your tears, falling freely from your closed eyes, but still you refuse to let him go.

-

Eddie’s POV

He’s dizzy with your kiss, desperate for it. He’s afraid once it ends, you’ll disappear through his fingers like sand. He must be dreaming, it’s the only way any of this makes sense. Your hands are tangled in his hair like they were made to be, your lips soft against his own chapped ones. He feels a tear spring from his eye, and hopes with everything you can’t tell he’s crying. He shifts himself, wrapping both arms around your waist to bring you even closer. When you deepen the kiss, licking a stripe across his bottom lip, he moans without thinking. You smile against his lips, still interlocked with him as your tongue wrestles with his. His eyes stay screwed shut, even though he wants to look at you more than anything. He wants to know what happens next, where you go from here. You’re both drunk, sure, but this is more than an alcohol induced decision.

You’re the first to pull away. “I don’t know what this means.” There’s no urgency, no panic in your voice. It is simply a statement.

Eddie blinks quickly, vision blurry. “Don’t overthink it. Not right now. We can talk about it later, I just need you to keep kissing me.” He’s past the point of patience, needing to feel your skin on his again.

Luckily, you seem to be on the same page. You lunge forward, connecting your lips to his again. At this point he’s borderline desperate, kneading the flesh of your hips with the pads of his fingers, keeping you in his grasp as if to ground himself to this plane.

-

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[sovengardeswag]

You Poor Unfortunate Soul

Chapter 2:

And I Help Them, Yes Indeed

When he first noticed the sun, Astarion first tried to hide in the shade out of instinct. Then, remembering his deal, merely watched. It had been 200 years since he had seen the sunrise, even longer since he had just watched a sunrise. How funny it was, that most mortals took it for granted, that he had once taken it for granted, never truly stopped to admire it before it was too late. Had never watched as the blue of the sky lightened up, as one by one, the stars disappeared out like candles being blown out, the colors of the sun going from gentle oranges and pinks to harsher yellows and reds. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. He wanted to bask in it, he wanted to take it in for the rest of his days. He stepped out from the shadow of Wyrm's Rock because even with pain, even with the agony he knew would come, he was going to enjoy the sun to the fullest.

And oh, the devil had been honest in his assessment, as Astarion was brought to his knees from the pain. He breathed deeply, as he could no longer scream, it wouldn't do anything. There was an odd sense of satisfaction in that. Though it felt like he had been set on fire, like he had been dipped in molten metal, and was being roasted all at once, neither Cazador nor Godey would ever hear his "sweet" screams again. Perhaps that was what gave him the strength to get up and return to the shade of Wyrm's Rock. It was more of a scramble than a graceful rise, but still.

Now that he was out of the sun and no longer in pain, it gave him the chance to think. He was on the clock now, he needed to find Wyll. Raphael said that Astarion had put the spawn in his path, but who knew what that really meant? He thus walked through Wyrm's Rock, through the separation between the outskirts and the lower city, where all the masses passed through. In the brief time he spent with Wyll, he knew the man wouldn't be content to wake up late to a sweet breakfast and attend to his paperwork. No, he would be out training, honing his skills with his blade. This was a man of action. A man of conviction. Convictions that Astarion would have to tear down piece by piece. But first, he would have to brave the sun again.

When he got to the end of Wyrm's Rock's tunnel, he took a breath he didn't need and stepped quickly into the light, like taking a plunge into cold water. It felt just as horrid as before but he couldn't afford to dally. He knew that the potion settling into his veins wouldn't allow him to enter homes without permission, so getting into the castle courtyard like a red-eyed angel wouldn't work. So, he was quick as he walked to the Flaming Fist outpost instead, almost collapsing in relief when he was out of the sun, taking a few moments to recover before heading to the desk, the woman there asked, "How may I help you, saer?"

Ah, there was the first hurdle. He couldn't very well just ask if Wyll was here, could he? He huffed and patted his throat before putting a finger to his lips.

"You were attacked and can't say by whom?"

He rolled his eyes before he shook his head and pointed to the parchment in front of her.

"You need to file a report?"

He shook his head once more, growing more frustrated. He put his finger to his lips before pointing to the parchment once again.

"Saer, I can't help you if you don't tell me what you want."

By the gods, did they just let anyone into the flaming fists? Had they always been this clueless?

He was mere moments away from snatching the quill out of her hand when he heard a familiar voice, "Stella, what's going on?"

"Ah, nothing to worry about, Lord Ravengard, this citizen is just confused."

Oh, he could kiss that devil! Placed in Wyll's path indeed. He turned around and Wyll's eyes widened in recognition. "It's you!" He went up to Astarion, looking him over for signs of burns. "Are you alright? What brings you here?"

Once again, Astarion patted his throat and put his finger to his lips.

"You can't speak?"

Thank the gods, the prince wasn't a fool! He nodded once more as Wyll politely took some parchment and a spare quill from the fist at the counter. He first asked Astarion, "What happened? Why can't you speak?"

Astarion quickly scratched out, "Hurts like the hells."

"I'm sorry that you got hurt in that fire. What brings you to the fists?"

"Looking for you. Wasn't sure if you were alright."

"That's very sweet of you and I assure you that I'm fine, nothing sleep and health potions couldn't fix. Did you get home alright?"

Ah, perfect, the sympathy card. He wrote on the parchment once more, "No."

Wyll's eyebrows knit in worry, "No? What happened?"

Astarion scratched out another response, "Went home, employer became angry, threw me out."

"Your employer threw you out?"

Another hastily scratched explanation came. "Worked for a patriar, rotten temper."

A flash of disgust and worry flashed across Wyll's face, "That's terrible. but then, where did you sleep last night?"

"Flop house."

"Ah, I've been there." And the man had clearly not enjoyed it, from the look on his face. He had an idea then, Astarion could see it in his good eye."Why don't you come with me to meet my father when I finish here? I know it sounds intimidating since you heard my name, but I assure you that you'd be welcome and could stay at Wyrm's Rock for a bit. I'm sure that if you're not hired back, you'll find something in no time at all."

Astarion nodded eagerly, innocently clasping his hands together.

"Perfect, just wait here while I give a statement."

Astarion nodded, sitting down at a chair away from a window and thinking of what he would do when Wyll married him. First he'd learn sign, of course, assuming a quick wedding. He would get a fine parasol and new clothes with the finest silk embroidery, only ever sewing out of boredom. Most of all, he would find a way to tell Wyll and his new father-in-law all of Cazador's sins without implicating himself, the bastard surely executed just for being a vampire. He thought of all they could do to him. Maybe he would be tossed down an unclimbable hole with a pane of glass over it and left to the sun, maybe he would be beheaded with a silver axe, maybe he would simply be staked and burned. He was only pulled out of his violent fantasies when Wyll came back."It seems that everyone said the same thing, a grease fire. Do you want to get going?"

Astarion nodded once more, hanging onto Wyll's arm. He seemed a touch surprised but didn't stop Astarion as they walked out of the outpost together. But instead of walking back towards Wyrm's Rock, they were immediately met by a fiery red tiefling. "Heyo! They get everything down?" She then looked at Astarion and said, "Oh, hi. I don't think we've met, name's Karlach, who are you?" She offered her hand eagerly and Asarion was obliged to take it, shaking. And he had to stop himself from yanking his hand away, the feeling of her hot hand deeply unpleasant on his already burning skin.

Luckily, Wyll didn't seem to notice Astarion's discomfort and pain. The spawn was very good at hiding it when necessary, after all. But Wyll did tell Karlach ever so helpfully, "This is the man I told you about this morning, the one who saved my life."

Karlach immediately pulled Astarion into a hug and the vampire wanted to scream. Most would appreciate the intense warmth on a cold day like this, but it was agony, "I can't thank you enough! I cried like a baby when the fists brought him home."

This time, Wyll did notice Astarion was uncomfortable. He told the large woman, "Karlach, I think you're heating up."

"Hm, oh, sorry there, soldier." She let go of Astatrion, who straightened up the best he could despite the burning sensation. If the hellish fire hadn't given it away, then the utter affection this woman had for Wyll told him that this was the tiefling he spared in Avernus. The one who protected those children. And it made him nervous. Wyll said he hadn't spared her out of affection but she was a lovely woman indeed. Strong with kind eyes and a lovely curled horn, she and Wyll would make an adorable couple. He had his work cut out for him.

"I actually invited him to stay with us. He fell onto some hard times and this was the least I could do."

"You sure your Pops is gonna be alright with that?"

"I'd be shocked if he wasn't." He then looked to Astarion, "But first, we have a few things to attend to. Would you like to come with Karlach and me?"

Astarion nodded, continuing to hold onto Wyll's arm for stability as much as to endear himself to Wyll.

First on the agenda was to see a blacksmith named Dammon. One who found himself tightly hugged by Karlach. "Dammon! How are you adjusting to the Gate?"

"I've been adjusting as well as you can expect. The forge is good and the rent's reasonable. How is the engine treating you up here?"

"Nothing that you didn't say would happen. Weird aches, hot flashes, but other than that I'm alright."

Astarion quirked an eyebrow at Wyll in question and the prince of the Gate explained, "Karlach has an infernal engine for a heart. In Avernus, it works just as a regular heart does, along with enhancing her strength."

Karlach nodded and further explained, "Problem is, on Faerun, it just burns hotter and hotter to make up for the colder air. Eventually, it'll just burn me up." Astarion must have made a face he didn't notice because she was quick to clarify, "Oh, I'm not going to drop dead or anything, don't worry! I just can't stay up top for more than, I think, six months, give or take." And Asarion calmed, safe in the knowledge that they would not, in fact, die in a fiery explosion then and there.

Astarion watched Dammon examine Karlach like he was a doctor, checking her engine by giving it a listen, checking her temperature by placing his hand on her forehead, examining her eyes, all while Wyll watched with rapt attention. In the end, he told her, "Well, it's as I said, your engine's holding firm. You should be fine for a few months."

"Aces, thanks Dammon!" She gave the tiefling blacksmith another hug and told Astarion, "We've just got one more thing to deal with and we can head to Wyrm's Rock."

Astarion felt some measure of relief that they were almost done, still hanging on to Wyll's arm as they walked some more, the sun bearing down on him the entire time.

When they entered a jewelry store, Astarion found himself mildly surprised. He wouldn't exactly call jewelry shopping an errand. Even when Cazador got his ugly signet cleaned, he always went himself at night rather than send a servant during the day and he usually came back with something for himself. A tiny bit of paranoia crept in that he might be third-wheeling a gift-shopping expedition for a couple.

However, that fear was quickly dashed, as when the blue dragonborn jeweler asked what she could do to help, Wyll said, "I'm looking to have a new false eye made. My current one isn't suitable anymore and a glass one wouldn't work in my line of work. So, I need a metal one or a new stone one."

"Well, I can tell you now, sir, that a metal one is out of the question, it would be too heavy. However, I can make a base out of bitumen and..."

Astarion's attention drifted when the conversation turned to the intricacies of false eyes. His eyes wandered and they landed on one piece in particular. Locked under glass was a ring of mind-shielding. It was probably the most expensive item in this entire store. It had an amethyst as the jewel in a bezel setting, the gold band engraved with runes. Raphael's suggestion for ways to avoid Cazador came to mind. With a quick glance to ensure that Karlach and Wyll were still speaking to the jeweler, Astarion reached into his hair and pulled out a pin out of his hair, bending it as he walked up to the case, starting to quickly pick at the lock, keeping an ear out as he did. He could feel that there were four pins on this lock. The first went quickly

"And you're sure Opal is too soft?"

"Quite."

Pins two and three released. He heard Karlach say, "And if we brought a gem or a rock for you to polish up, would that work?"

"It would depend on what you brought, but yes, I could most certainly do it for a suitable stone."

The last pin went. Astarion had to work quickly. He opened the case just enough to reach his hand in and snatch a similar, inconsequential ring in the case to replace the ring of mind-shielding before switching it out and putting it in his pocket.

It was mere moments after he gently closed and relocked the case that Astarion was called over by Karlach. "Oy! Do you want to help us pick something?"

Astarion turned around and pointed at himself, genuine surprise showing on his face.

Wyll gave him a gentle smile and told him, "Yes, you. You look terribly bored and I would be a poor host indeed if I let you stay bored."

With his new ring of mind-shielding safely in his pocket, Astarion went up to the counter. He looked at the stones before him, still uncut and quite large. One a deep green with variously darker and lighter rings, one a dark, burnt orange color with various stripes, and a grey and shiny one with thin bands around it.

Wyll pointed to the green stone and told him, "That one is malachite. It takes protective spells well but it needs a coating so we've decided against it. Apparently, it would become toxic without one."

Astarion made a face at the concept of a poisonous rock offering protection and Wyll chuckled a bit, "Exactly, so now it's between tiger's eye and agate."

"I say to go for the tiger's eye. I mean, it has eye right in the name."

"That, and it has a nice color, but the agate does as well. It's a bit hard to decide." He looked to Astarion and said, "This is where you come in, a bit of a tiebreaker."

Astarion looked at the stones, examining them. He picked up both options and weighed them in his hands. He also held up both options to Wyll's face, the prince allowing him to compare both options as he told him, "To tell you the truth, I've never done this before. This eye wasn't exactly my choice. I appreciate you taking this so seriously."

Astarion nodded, assuring Wyll that he knew this was indeed serious business. And as he looked at both stones at Wyll's eye level, he concluded that, despite the tiger's eye being absolutely garish, he'd look good with either one. Everything just seemed to flatter the man, though he couldn't imagine a cute little pupil being carved into the tiger's eye. But maybe Wyll would look better with something more serious. He also didn't get to choose his current eye. What if he thought the pupil was stupid and thought Astarion frivolous? He put both stones down and made a heart shape with his hands before pointing to his own ruby-red eye.

"The pupil? A stylistic choice by my ex-patron, though admittedly a sweet one. Do you like it?"

Astarion nodded.

"Well, I'll keep it in mind when it's time to carve then."

Astaion looked at the stones once more. He was naturally leaning toward the agate but there was one more factor. Wyll was an adventurer, he would be performing all sorts of feats that were liable to get him killed, this would all be for naught if Astarion ended up a widower. So he looked to the jeweler and made the somatic gesture for Firebolt.

The jeweler looked confused for a moment before realizing, "Ah, you're asking about charms. Tiger's eye is attuned to warding magic while agate takes to warding or perception."

As the saying went, an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure. Astarion pointed pointed to the agate, his mind set. It was up to Wyll now.

"Alright then, we'll take the agate."

"Excellent choice, sir, if you'll follow me into the back, I can take a measurement.

Wyll nodded and followed the jeweler, leaving Astarion alone with Karlach. The spawn went to take a seat and Karlach followed. The two of them were in silence for a moment, Astarion because he had no choice and Karlach, he presumed, because she didn't know what to say. But she soon broke the silence as she asked, "So, this is probably rude but I was wondering about the eyes.

Astarion tensed. Did she know, somehow?

"Are you half drow? Again, sorry if that's rude, been wondering all morning."

Oh, thank the gods. He shook his head and raised four fingers.

"Ah, makes sense. I just saw the eyes and the way you flinched and kind of guessed. I knew a half-drow kid growing up here, his mum was the drow."

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise that she noticed the flinching. To his expression she gave a little laugh and said, "On a cold day when everyone is trying to warm up and appreciate how bright the sun is? Come on." She elbowed him gently and, with it being indoors, it was no longer uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry about your job by the way. Why was the boss mad?"

Astarion couldn't help but feel a touch judgemental when Karlach asked that. Did she seriously expect him to answer in his state? He wouldn't show it though. Instead, he simply shrugged.

"Ah, yeah, I get that. But hey, you can find something better now, at least."

Oh, she was certainly right about that. He had to wonder about her own issues. He pointed to her shoulder and pinched his hand in question.

"You asking if it hurts?"

He nodded.

"Eh, not really. Not unless something breaks and starts burning me. But that's pretty rare, not since Elturel. Getting it put in hurt like a mother fucker though."

Astarion pat her shoulder, not sure what else to do.

"Thanks, you're sweet. I'm used to having it though."

Astarion could certainly understand that, saying one was used to something so horrendous. But he also knew that it was a lie. It was something said to keep yourself sane. As he pulled his hand away, he almost felt bad for very briefly seeing her as a rival. But only almost. Quite frankly, he still wasn't sure what, exactly, her feelings were for Wyll. He couldn't blame her if her engine went all aflutter for her savior. And here he was, Wyll's savior, calling in a favor and trying to win him so a devil could manipulate him. It was utterly devious. It was the exact sort of job someone would use him for.

Karlach didn't want to dwell on the painful, however, nor did she suspect a single thing from Astarion as she went on to ask, "So, was your grandma or grandpa the dark elf?"

Wyll came out of the back of the store when Astarion was most of the way through pantomiming a fake backstory of a secondborn son set to be an old and lecherous matron's concubine before running away to Baldur's Gate, earning a perfectly honest living as a courtesan before settling down with a humble elf. Or at least, that was the story he was trying to convey. He'd been pantomiming the part where his fake grandmother wooed her little drow with a pair of earrings when he arrived, "Well, you two certainly made fast friends."

"Yeah, the guy's a riot."

Yes, good, approval. Astarion pointed to his right eye in question to Wyll.

"It'll be done within the ten-day, so well within our stay here."

They wouldn't be gone within the day or anything like that then. Good. Either way, he got up once more and clung to Wyll's arm. Karlach pointed out, "He sure likes hanging onto you."

"Oh, ah, he certainly does. We were actually flirting a bit before the fire."

"Oh? And you didn't tell me that the beautiful stranger who saved you was flirting with you?" Karlach teased.

"Oh, stop," he said, "But he was."

Karlach, smirking a bit, addressed Astarion now, telling him as they walked out, "Can't say I'm surprised. I mean, look at him, Don't take him saying no as straight-up rejection though. He likes you back, he's just a bit old-fashioned."

"I said nothing of the sort," Wyll told Karlach, though took no offense to the implication that he liked Astarion. It was quiet aside from all the people milling about as they trekked back to Wyrm's Rock.

Astarion didn't feel nervous about entering Wyrm's Rock since Wyll had invited him to stay, even less so when Wyll said, "Again, you're welcome to stay as long as you need," when they had arrived at the living quarters. What he was, instead, was mildly surprised. He had expected the Grand Duke's home to be finely furnished, full of victorious paintings and tapestries of monster hunting, from, how Cazador described Ravengard as self-righteous. But no, while certainly not spartan, the home seemed more befitting a minor noble than borderline royalty. But Astarion, despite himself, wasn't disappointed. The place was comfortable, and tasteful. The couches were made of velvet, the office chair he spied in an open room lined with fine leather, and the few commemorative paintings were clearly done by the finest artists. Astarion briefly stopped at a portrait of the duke, then the grand marshall, with a ten-year-old version of Wyll. The boy had been rendered adorably, all wide-eyed and happy. It was also evidence that Wyll hadn't always been a tiefling, for the portrait displayed not a stubby horned child, but a human one with dark brown eyes and not a hellish feature in sight. Indeed, he was not a descendent of the hells but changed by them. When they moved on with some happy ribbing from Karlach, they came to the guest room. And never before had Astarion been so glad to be in a guest room. For one, he was allowed to actually sleep here. For another, it was comfortable, with a feather bed, a good, thick set of curtains, and fine cedar nightstands, there was even a tub for bathing. It was heaven compared to the Szarr estate.

Wyll explained the reasoning for bringing him directly to the bedroom. "My father is in a meeting and won't be back until dinner. Meanwhile, Karlach and I have some work we need to do. Is that alright?"

Astarion nodded in understanding and to show it was perfectly fine. It gave him the opportunity to prepare if anything.

"Alright, there's extra clothes in the wardrobe and if you need anything, just ask." And then, he and Karlach left. As soon as the coast was clear, Astarion fished into his pocket and pulled out the ring of mind-shielding. It was almost too good to be true, that a rune-covered, amethyst ring could guard him from Cazador. He had certainly heard of it working and Raphael had mentioned it, but those could simply be the dreams of desperate spawns and a trick from a devil. There was only one way to know if this little magic ring could work. He slipped it onto his finger.

As soon as he got it on, there was a sense of peace, as if whispers he had been hearing his whole life had been silenced. The tension he felt in his brain stem was gone. His mind, his body, they were his own. He nearly collapsed, catching himself to sit on the bed as he let out a silent laugh of relief. He had done it, he had outsmarted Cazador and all he needed to do was steal a ring. Oh, he was going to enjoy this new life of his. The first order of business? A bath, hot and scented and sudsy.

It was a slight hassle to ask the Wyrm's Rock staff for what he needed, but so very worth it. Away from the window, he was able to enjoy the hot water. The scents of juniper and bergamot were strong enough to cover up the mild smell of undeath that followed him. Though, now that he thought about it as he scrubbed his scalp, he wouldn't be surprised if that scent came from all the damn ghouls in Cazador's palace. Either way, he felt much cleaner and much more relaxed. He didn't even need to worry about his hair, products having been left for him with the soaps and the oils. By the time he was done, he felt like a new man as he looked over the options for clothes. Seeing as it was a guest room, there weren't very many options, but he could certainly style them. Black breeches always made for a promising start, especially with a white shirt, but what to wear on top? He looked between a green doublet and a black one. Though something in his mind said that the green doublet matched with something, he knew that wasn't true. So, he opted for the black one, which had some tasteful gold accents. It was dark and broody but didn't scream vampire, it was modest and comfortable. It was perfect.

His confidence was palpable as he left the room. It was dark out and he didn't feel any sort of compulsion. If he focused, he could feel someone asking, no, demanding to be let into his mind. And he smirked as he resolutely ignored it, imagining Cazador absolutely furious and confused. Instead, he sauntered his way through the halls of Wyrm's Rock, exploring. He found the library, a war room, and some more guest rooms, all of them as lovely as his own. It was during his exploration that he ran into Wyll again. "Ah, there you are. was everything alright?"

Astarion nodded, taking note of Wyll's outfit. A dark, deep blue doublet with a white shirt underneath, the doublet having gold trim. It was good to know his future husband had good taste.

"That's good. I was actually just looking for you. Father and Karlach are waiting in the dining room for dinner. You want to join us, right?"

Astarion nodded most enthusiastically and followed Wyll close behind. Wyll was very sweet, he was, but Astarion wasn't going to get anywhere by just taking advantage of his hospitality. He needed to do something more. Maybe dinner would be an opportunity, if he could impress the Grand Duke, Wyll might consider Astarion worth his time. He wondered what Ulder Ravengard was like anyway. Obviously, he hadn't exactly thrown himself into opulence upon rising to the station, living here instead of in the upper city palace, that much he had heard had been true. And Cazador could not stand the man, mentioned that he avoided him like the plague when he was forced to meet with other patriars, calling Duke Ravengard an arrogant little knight when he went on one of his tirades, but that was more due to the Duke's attempts at curbing corruption rather than his actual personality. He really had very little to work with. So, upon arriving at the dining hall, he merely sat down at one of the tables, right across from Karlach and next to Wyll. On other days, this place probably hosted grand banquets but, right now, it was just four people at the end of a table.

"Ah, so you're the man who saved my son from that fire. It is wonderful to meet you." Ulder Ravengard said, holding out a hand for Astarion to shake, which he did. It was calloused from years of work and training as a Flaming Fist, more than Wyll's was. "And what is your name?"

Wyll flushed with embarrassment at the realization he had never caught Astarion's name. Never mind that Astarion had done that on purpose, the spawn was now regretting that. He wasn't sure if Wyll had told his father about his supposed condition but he patted his throat again anyway, hoping Ulder could catch on as well as his son.

"Ah, forgive me, my son mentioned that you had been injured, but we must call you something other than "you.""

Karlach spoke up then, "Want me to get some paper and ink?"

Astarion shook his head. It wasn't necessary. He first pointed to his ear.

"An elven name," Wyll immediately understood.

Astarion nodded and pointed out one of the windows.

Karlach took a guess then, "Is it Skye?"

Astarion made a face at that.

"Oof, ok, not Skye."

Ulder took a moment to think as he looked out the window, "Ithilen?"

Astarion shook his head, though did not make a face.

Wyll finally guessed, "Does it have something to do with stars?"

Astarion made a so-so motion with his free hand.

Wyll immediately got it right, "Astarion?"

Astarion blinked twice in surprise. He had not expected that. He had expected to be clear within the next guesses, but not so immediately. Either way, he nodded.

"Astarion. It's a lovely name."

But now Astarion had his own questions and, blast this deal, he needed to know how Wyll guessed. Did his ex-patron have some idea of the plan? Was she still sending him messages through his eye?"

Wyll noticed his confusion as he said, "Ah, this is a bit morbid but I saw that name on a grave in the upper city when I was a boy. It seemed so lonely up there, with no flowers and only vines, that it stuck in my mind and I remembered it when you said you had a star name." Wyll then had another thought, asking, "Do you have any relation to that person? Astarion Ancunin?"

Astarion lied and shook his head.

"Wyll is right that it's a lovely name. Ah, but please, eat, the food looks delicious, and not just because I'm famished."

While the living got to enjoy their meal of pork cooked in a marinade and served wih risotto, Astarion was, quite frankly, suffering. That potion had only been said to "cure" his problem with sunlight and, indeed, it had done only that. The meat tasted like ash despite smelling divine, the same went for the risotto, he was unable to enjoy the creamy texture from the ashen flavor of the rice and the rank, sour taste of mushrooms that were supposed to be savory and delightful. But it wouldn't be the first time he faked enjoyment of a meal, acting like it was the best thing he had eaten and washed it down with a wine that, while being a nice vintage that was probably some variety of dry to go with the meal, tasted like straight vinegar to him

Luckily, he was able to put his fork down when Ulder asked, "So, Astarion, what was your trade?"

Ah, a simple question. He made a sewing motion with his hands and the Grand Duke caught on, "Ah, a tailor? A fine profession. Francesca, Wyll's mother, was actually a seamstress before I became Grand Marshall. She wanted to keep it up, but her old clients felt a little uncomfortable with her station, so she took up needlepoint to occupy her mind."

Astarion listened in rapt attention. He had known that Ravengard had been common born but had always assumed that his wife was a lower noble, that he had married his way in. It was clear now that Lady Ravengard was in the same situation as her husband. How odd this city was, a noble magistrate like him could fall to such lows and a common person could rise to Grand Duke.

It was Karlach, sweet karlach, who asked the dreaded question, "So, who'd you work for? You mentioned that they were a patriar?"

Shit, no matter what he said, he was doomed. Even if he knew no one here would talk, walls had ears, even if he lied and mimed out a different patriar family, they would deny it in confusion, word would get back to Cazador, and he would know where Astarion was. he'd be dragged back, his ring of mind-shielding taken, and he'd be flayed before getting thrown in the crypt again, no doubt for ten years this time.

Wyll, either once again reading his face like a book, or out of some sense of noble propriety, quickly told him, "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

"Oh yeah, no, I've just got patriars on the brain is all. I know how they talk, so if you're not comfortable saying, I totally get it. I actually used to work for a guy who was upper crust too. It's a long story but he's actually why we're here."

Astarion titled his head in a question. They weren't here for a visit? Though it certainly explained why Karlach and Wyll needed to work today.

Grand Duke Ravengard shook his head, "I'm afraid not. My son and Karlach are heading an investigation. One of the councilors is a Banite and has dealings with Zhentarim and the slave trade. He's also accused of other crimes, but those have less evidence so far. Normally he would be on trial by now but what was found in the hells and couldn't be brought back. A man by the name of Enver Gortash."

Astarion recognized the name. Councilor Gortash had come calling to one of Cazador's many parties, offering his services. He even offered "labour," in case Cazador wanted to re-explore some ruin or mine or something of that sort. Cazador had declined. Astarion only really remembered it because it was such a strange interaction. Cazador usually liked taking every advantage he could, and Gortash had turned down the evening's "entertainment" before leaving, and it wasn't as if Gortash had been an innocent and shy little upstart, he had been looking. Either way, he wasn't surprised that the man was involved with the Zhents and all sorts of atrocities.

Karlach then said something that made it all the worse, "He, uh, he's actually how I ended up in the hells. Zariel had something he wanted, and Zariel wanted me."

Astarion could have guessed from the context; the evidence coming from the hells, the fact that they were investigating him, Karlach's slavery in Avernus, it all added up. He vaguely wondered, how could she be so cheery despite it all. Who went through literal hell and came out smiling?

Wyll patted Karlach's shoulder, telling her, "We'll get him, don't worry." He then looked to Astarion, telling him, "That's not to say that we'll be leaving you completely alone tomorrow. You can join us while we go investigating, and the day after there's going to be a welcome party. We'll be taking that day off."

"As you should, we all need it after spending weeks in the hells, even longer for Ms. Cliffgate."

"I suppose," but it was clear to Astarion that this a sort of enforced day off if the way Wyll's eyes flitted away was any indication. He probably wanted to get justice for his friend and celebrate after. Well, if it was to be that way, he would just need to be absolutely delightful, a perfect little investigative partner, and would make the day of the party the best of Wyll's life. He would surely get a kiss by the deadline. Wyll already liked him, making love blossom would be easy.

Just as dinner was ending and Astarion choked down his last bite of risotto, however, a flaming fist came in, "Grand Duke Ravengard, I come with news."

"Has something happened?" The Grand Duke stood up, clearly surprised to be interrupted.

"Yes sir, there was another smash-and-grab in the city."

"Don't tell me it's-"

"Another jewelry store, sir. Everything in the cases included magical items with hundreds of gold worth of damages, possibly thousands. Clearly the same outfit as the others"

"I see, has anyone been hurt?"

"Not this time, sir, but among the stolen items were a ring of mind-shielding and an Amulet of Proof Against Detection and Location. they may be trying to run at this point."

Astarion wanted to laugh. They thought that the ring he had stolen had been taken in a smash-and-grab. Things couldn't possibly be going more perfectly.

"Alright, I'll go see what can be done." The Grand Duke looked to astarion and told him, "It was lovely to meet you, I once again thank you for saving my son." Ulder quickly shook Astarion's hand again before leaving.

Wyll got up as well, telling Astarion and Karlach, "I should go with him. Goodnight Astarion, I'll see you in the morning." He gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

And then there was Karlach, who asked, "You wanna come raid the kitchen for dessert with me?"

Astarion shook his head and Karlach said, "Suit yourself," before getting up and leaving.

Thus, Astarion was alone. He put his head in his hands and blew air through his nose. He felt awful after eating all that, the consequences of a vampire daring to eat actual good food were catching up to him. He began to run to the nearest window, the one he had pointed out to, opened it and immediately threw up into the snow outside. He was lucky no one had been outside and was grateful that, as a vampire, he had no bile to burn his throat. Just an empty stomach that always asked for blood.

As he wiped his mouth, he looked back into the dining hall. None had come in and seen that little display, good. He swiftly left to his room, washed out his mouth, and rubbed at his face. Two more days, Two more days of being the sweet, perfect little quarter-drow high elf and at least his place here would be secured. But how long would he have to hide himself? How long would he vomit out windows? He could explain the potion, the fact that he had never drank the blood of thinking creatures in his life, but would the virtuous blade and his father understand? He couldn't be sure of that. But would he be able to keep finding a permanent cure a secret? Ah, but he couldn't dwell on that. Not right now. For now, he just needed to deal with it. But that didn't mean he needed to miss out on an actual dinner.

He blew out the candle in his room and climbed out the window, knowing he would need to head to Rivington, he was in the mood for pig's blood.

[ladyeckland28]

Evil Dead: Rising

A fan fiction by Ecky

**Disclaimer:**

This fan fiction story is a work of fiction inspired by the Evil Dead franchise. It contains graphic violence, gore, and dark themes consistent with the original films. It is not part of the official Evil Dead universe and is intended for entertainment purposes only. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy the story as a fan tribute to the iconic horror series.

**Chapter 1: Descent into Darkness**

The sun had just begun to set, casting long shadows across the city as Ethan Crutchly, a veteran police officer and SWAT team leader, briefed his team. They stood in a secluded area, away from the curious eyes of the public, the air tense with anticipation. Beyond the police cordon, curious onlookers and reporters had gathered, drawn to the scene like moths to a flame.

"Alright, guys, we've been called in because the situation has escalated beyond the local police's control," Ethan began, his voice steady and commanding. "As you all know, we've responded to reports of erratic and violent behavior from people inside this high-rise. The first SWAT team that went in has gone dark—no communication, no sign of them. Our job is to get inside, find out what the hell is going on, and contain the threat."

The team consisted of five highly trained officers, each with their unique skills and expertise: Brandon Hicks, their tech and explosives specialist; Sarah Miller, a former army medic; David Wu, their close-quarters combat expert; Mike Wilson, the team's sniper; and Ethan himself, a seasoned leader and investigator.

"We'll start our search in the underground parking lot and work our way up," Ethan continued. "Keep your eyes and ears open. Whatever we're dealing with here, it's not your average hostage situation. Be prepared for anything, and remember your training."

With a nod, the team geared up, double-checking their weapons and equipment. They moved with purpose toward the entrance of the parking garage, the weight of their mission heavy on their shoulders. The building loomed over them, an imposing structure of steel and glass, its windows reflecting the fading light.

As they entered the garage, the hum of their flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the concrete walls and rows of parked cars. The air was thick with an eerie silence, the usual bustle of a busy office building noticeably absent.

"Place is dead quiet," Brandon remarked, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

"Too quiet," Sarah agreed, her hand resting on the grip of her pistol. "Where is everyone?"

Ethan shook his head, his brows furrowed in concentration. "That's what we're here to find out. Stay sharp. Remember, our primary goal is to locate any survivors and neutralize the threat."

They moved deeper into the garage, their footsteps echoing off the walls. The further they ventured, the more the hair on the back of their necks stood on end. Something felt inherently wrong about this place, an underlying sense of dread hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Suddenly, a loud crash startled them, the sound of shattering glass and screeching tires piercing the silence. It came from one of the lower levels of the garage.

"Over here!" David called out, already sprinting toward the source of the noise. The team followed suit, their training kicking in as they fanned out, forming a protective formation around David.

As they rounded a corner, their flashlights landed on a horrifying scene. A car had crashed through a concrete pillar, its front end mangled and smoking. But it was the driver, or what was left of them, that drew their attention. A figure, or what used to be a person, hung halfway out of the shattered windshield, its body twisted and contorted in impossible angles.

"My God..." Sarah whispered, her medical training kicking in despite the surreal nature of the scene. "There's no way anyone could survive that impact."

Ethan approached the car, his eyes narrowing as he took in the details. "This wasn't an accident. Look at the marks on the concrete. Something... or someone, forced the driver to crash."

Brandon shone his light on the ground, revealing smears of blood and drag marks leading away from the car. "Something was done to that driver, and whoever... or whatever... did this, took the body with them."

A chill ran down Mike's spine as he scanned their surroundings, his sniper rifle at the ready. "You don't think this is the work of those... things we encountered at the Rise incident, do you?"

Ethan exchanged a grim look with the team. The Rise incident, as it had come to be known, was a case they had worked on several months prior. It involved a similar situation—people going insane and attacking others, only to be revealed as possessions by an ancient, malevolent force. That case had left an indelible mark on each of them, and now, it seemed, the nightmare was far from over.

"It has all the hallmarks," Ethan said grimly. "But we can't jump to conclusions. We need to find more evidence, and hopefully, some survivors who can tell us what happened here."

With a renewed sense of purpose, the team continued their descent into the depths of the parking garage, their flashlights cutting through the darkness like swords slicing through the encroaching evil that seemed to lurk in every shadow.

**Chapter 2: Unspeakable Horrors**

They moved with cautious steps, their senses heightened, alert for any signs of movement or danger. The further they ventured, the more the temperature seemed to drop, an icy chill seeping into their bones.

"This doesn't feel right," David whispered, his eyes darting from side to side. "It's like something out of a damn horror movie."

Sarah nodded in agreement, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. "I keep expecting to see bodies or blood... some sign of what happened here. It's too quiet."

Ethan held up his hand, signaling for the team to halt. "Wait... do you hear that?"

They stood in silence, straining to listen beyond the thumping of their own hearts. At first, there was nothing but the soft hum of the building's machinery. Then, faintly, they heard it—a low, guttural moan, followed by the sound of something dragging across the concrete.

"It's coming from over there," Brandon said, shining his light in the direction of the noise.

With weapons raised, they moved toward the source of the sound, their footsteps slow and deliberate. As they rounded a corner, the beam of their flashlights landed on a figure huddled in the corner, its back against the wall. It was a man, or at least, it used to be. His clothes were torn and bloodied, and his face was a mask of terror, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"Jesus..." Mike whispered, his rifle lowering slightly as he took in the man's state.

The figure began to stir, its head snapping up, eyes glowing an eerie yellow. It opened its mouth, and a guttural, inhuman sound emerged, sending shivers down the team's spines.

"It's one of them," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the horror before them. "A Deadite."

The Deadite lunged at them with inhuman speed, its fingers extending into sharp, bony claws. David was the closest, and he reacted instantly, swinging his bat at the creature's head. The wooden bat connected with a sickening crack, but the Deadite barely staggered, its skull caving in slightly before it lunged again.

"What the hell?!" David exclaimed, swinging again.

Sarah joined in, her pistol firing round after round into the creature's chest. The bullets tore into its flesh, but it kept coming, driven by some unseen force.

"Head shots only!" Ethan shouted, raising his own pistol and firing directly into the Deadite's face. The creature's head snapped back, and it stumbled, finally falling to the ground, its body twitching and convulsing.

The team stood, panting, their weapons trained on the fallen Deadite.

"What the hell are these things?!" Brandon exclaimed, his eyes wide as he stared at the mutilated form.

"They're Deadites," Ethan said grimly. "Possessed by some ancient evil. We encountered them at the Rise incident, and now it looks like they've infested this place."

"But how do we kill them?!" Sarah asked, her voice shaking. "We shot it, beat its head in, and it still kept coming!"

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he thought back to their previous encounter. "We need to destroy the source of the evil... whatever is causing these possessions. Until then, head shots seem to be our best bet to take them down."

"Great," David muttered, reloading his pistol. "So, we're dealing with an army of relentless, undead office workers."

A faint sound caught their attention, and they turned to see another figure shuffling toward them from the darkness. It was a woman, her once-smart business attire now torn and stained with blood. Her eyes, glowing an unearthly yellow, fixed on the team with an unblinking intensity.

"Another one," Mike said, raising his rifle. "How many of these things are there?"

"Take her out!" Ethan ordered.

The team opened fire, their bullets tearing into the Deadite, but it continued to advance, its movements jerky and unnatural. It took several more shots before the creature finally fell, its body twitching and convulsing on the ground.

"This is insane," Brandon said, his voice shaking. "How many of these things are there? We can't just keep shooting them! We need a better plan."

Ethan nodded, his eyes scanning the garage for any other threats. "We need to find the source of this evil and put a stop to it. Until then, we keep moving, and we take these things down one by one if we have to."

With a sense of growing dread, the team continued their journey through the garage, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, revealing the horrors that lurked within.

**Chapter 3: A Tide of Evil**

They had only ventured further when they stumbled upon a scene of pure carnage. The mangled bodies of several Deadites lay strewn across the garage floor, the concrete stained with blood and other unidentifiable fluids.

"What the hell happened here?" Sarah whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the destruction.

Ethan shook his head, his face grim. "Looks like someone, or something, got to them before we did."

David approached one of the bodies, his bat at the ready in case it suddenly sprang to life. "These bodies are torn apart... like something went at them with pure rage."

"Could it be infighting?" Brandon asked, shining his light on the mutilated forms. "Maybe these things turn on each other?"

"Or maybe," Mike said, his voice filled with unease, "there's something else down here with us. Something even more dangerous than these Deadites."

As if in response to his words, a low, inhuman growl echoed through the garage, sending shivers down their spines. It was a sound unlike anything they had heard before, a mix of animalistic rage and otherworldly malevolence.

"What the hell was that?!" Sarah exclaimed, her pistol raised.

"I don't know, but it sounds big," David said, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond their flashlight beams.

"We need to find a way out of here, now!" Brandon said, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the strain.

Ethan shook his head, his gaze fixed on the darkness from which the sound had emanated. "Not yet. Whatever that is, it's between us and the exit. We need to take it out or find another way around."

The growl came again, closer this time, followed by the sound of heavy, dragging footsteps. The team formed a defensive circle, their weapons raised, flashlights illuminating the encroaching darkness.

Out of the shadows, a figure emerged. It stood on two legs, but any resemblance to a human ended there. It was a massive, hulking creature, its body distorted and twisted, muscles rippling with unnatural strength. Its head was that of a demon, with glowing yellow eyes and a mouth filled with rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

"Oh my God..." Sarah whispered, her voice filled with a mix of horror and awe.

"It's a Deadite, but unlike any I've seen before," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the terror that gripped him. "It's some kind of... abomination."

The creature roared, the sound reverberating off the concrete walls, and charged at them with astonishing speed. The team opened fire, their bullets tearing into its flesh, but the creature barely flinched, its relentless advance continuing.

David stepped forward, swinging his bat with all his might. The wooden club connected with the creature's head, sending it stumbling backward, but it quickly recovered, its eyes fixed on David with an unblinking intensity.

"Fall back!" Ethan ordered, firing round after round into the creature's chest.

They retreated, forming a loose semicircle as the creature advanced, its movements jerky and unpredictable.

"We need explosives!" Brandon shouted. "Something to take this thing down!"

Sarah nodded, her eyes never leaving the creature as she rummaged through her pack. "I have some C4, but we'll need to get close!"

"I'll draw its fire," Mike said, his rifle already trained on the creature. "Ethan, when I move, you move in and plant the charge!"

Ethan nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared for the risky maneuver. Mike opened fire, his bullets tearing into the creature, drawing its attention. As it turned toward Mike, Ethan dashed forward, Sarah at his side.

They reached the creature, and Sarah quickly attached the C4 to its back, the pack shaking in her hands. "Go, go, go!"

They sprinted away, the creature turning to follow, its roar filling the garage. Mike fired again, buying them precious seconds.

"Now!" Ethan shouted, and Brandon triggered the detonator.

The explosion rocked the garage, sending a shockwave through the air. The creature staggered, its body engulfed in flames, before finally collapsing in a heap, its limbs twitching spasmodically.

The team stood, panting, their eyes fixed on the smoldering remains.

"That... was close," David said, wiping a sleeve across his forehead.

"Too close," Ethan agreed, his eyes scanning the darkness for any further threats. "Let's keep moving. We need to find a way out of this garage and up into the building. Whatever is causing this, we need to put a stop to it."

With the memory of the massive Deadite still fresh in their minds, they continued their journey, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, revealing the horrors that lurked within the once-ordinary high-rise building.

**Chapter 4: Into the Heart of Darkness**

They found the maintenance stairwell and began their ascent, their footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. The air grew thicker and more oppressive as they climbed, the weight of the building pressing down on them.

"This place feels like it's suffocating us," Sarah said, her voice echoing in the stairwell.

"I know the feeling," Brandon replied, his breath coming in short gasps. "It's like something doesn't want us here."

Ethan shook his head, his hand tight on the grip of his pistol. "Whatever this evil is, it's not going to drive us out that easily. We need to keep moving, find the source of this madness."

As they climbed higher, the sounds of chaos and destruction grew louder—shouts, screams, and the sickening wet sounds of violence.

"Sounds like we're getting close to the action," David remarked, his bat at the ready.

Rounding a landing, they came upon a horrifying scene. The stairwell was littered with bodies, some clearly dead, while others twitched and convulsed, their eyes glowing an eerie yellow.

"Deadites," Mike said, his rifle already trained on the nearest one. "Looks like they were cut down trying to escape."

Ethan approached one of the bodies, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. "These people weren't just trying to escape. They were trying to warn others. Look, this one has a makeshift sign—'Don't go up. Evil above.'"

Sarah's eyes widened as she took in the scene. "So, whatever is causing this, it's not just contained to the lower levels. It's spread throughout the building."

"We need to keep moving," Ethan said grimly. "The source of this evil is somewhere above us, and we need to put a stop to it before more innocent people are harmed."

With a sense of growing dread, they continued their ascent, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their mission. The higher they climbed, the more the temperature seemed to rise, an oppressive heat filling the stairwell.

"It's getting hotter," Brandon remarked, wiping a sleeve across his sweating brow.

"Not just hotter... it's getting harder to breathe," Sarah said, her voice strained. "The air feels thick... almost toxic."

Ethan nodded, his eyes narrowing as he took in the changing environment. "Whatever is causing this, it's not natural. It's like the building itself is alive and reacting to our presence."

As they neared the top of the stairwell, the air grew even thicker, the heat oppressive. The sound of their labored breathing filled the confined space.

"I can't... breathe," David gasped, his hand on his chest.

"We're almost there," Ethan said through gritted teeth, his own breath coming in short gasps. "Just a little further."

Rounding the final landing, they emerged into a hallway, their eyes widening at the scene before them. The hallway was in disarray, furniture overturned, and papers scattered everywhere. But it was the bodies that drew their attention—bodies of Deadites, their twisted forms strewn across the floor, the walls, and even hanging halfway out of shattered windows.

"What the hell happened here?" Brandon whispered, his eyes taking in the destruction.

"Looks like a war zone," Mike said, his rifle raised as he scanned the area for any signs of movement.

Ethan approached one of the bodies, his eyes narrowing as henodded, his gaze sweeping the hallway. "Whatever happened here, it was recent. These bodies haven't begun to decay."

As they ventured further, the air grew thick with an ominous energy. It was as if the building itself was alive and aware of their presence, watching their every move with malevolent intent.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, followed by the sound of shattering glass. The team sprang into action, their weapons raised as they moved toward the source of the sound.

"It's coming from that office!" David said, pointing to a room with a shattered window.

Ethan nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Mike, Brandon, take point. The rest of us will cover you."

They approached the office with caution, their footsteps slow and deliberate. As they neared the doorway, a figure emerged from the shadows, its form twisted and contorted. It was a Deadite, its eyes glowing an unearthly yellow, its mouth twisted in a macabre smile.

Mike fired his rifle, the bullet tearing into the creature's chest. But the Deadite barely flinched, continuing its relentless advance.

"Head shots!" Ethan shouted, firing his own pistol.

The team opened fire, their bullets finding their mark. The Deadite staggered, its head snapping back with each impact, but it refused to fall.

David stepped forward, his bat swinging with deadly force. The wooden club connected with the creature's skull, sending it reeling backward. Finally, it collapsed in a heap, its body twitching and convulsing.

"Damn, these things are tough," Brandon said, his breath coming in short gasps.

As they entered the office, their worst fears were realized. Two of their teammates, Mike and Sarah, lay on the floor, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition. It was clear they had fallen victim to the relentless Deadites.

Ethan felt a surge of grief and rage wash over him. He had lost good people, and the cost of this mission was becoming painfully clear.

"No..." David whispered, his voice shaking as he took in the gruesome scene. "Not them..."

Ethan clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing with determination. "We knew the risks when we signed up. We have to push forward. For them."

Brandon nodded, his face set in a grim mask. "We can't let their deaths be in vain. We have to find out what's causing this and put a stop to it."

With heavy hearts, they continued their mission, their resolve strengthened by the loss of their teammates. The horror and gore they had witnessed only fueled their determination to put an end to the evil that had infested this place.

**Chapter 5: The Heart of Evil**

They ventured deeper into the heart of the building, the air growing thicker with malevolence. The sounds of chaos and destruction surrounded them, a constant reminder of the threat they faced.

"This way," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We're getting close."

As they turned a corner, they were confronted by a horde of Deadites, their eyes glowing, their bodies contorted. The creatures advanced, their movements jerky and unnatural.

The team opened fire, their weapons tearing into the Deadites with little effect. The creatures kept coming, driven by the evil force that possessed them.

"Fall back!" Ethan shouted, his pistol firing round after round. "We can't hold them here!"

They retreated, their footsteps echoing in the hallway. The Deadites pursued relentlessly, their inhuman strength and endurance pushing the team to the brink.

"We can't keep this up!" Brandon gasped, his rifle firing wildly. "We need another way!"

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he searched for an alternative escape route. His gaze landed on a nearby window. "The window! We can jump to the adjacent building!"

Without hesitation, Ethan led the team toward the window, their footsteps pounding against the floor. They leaped through the shattered glass, one by one, landing on the fire escape of the neighboring building.

The Deadites howled in rage, their claws scraping against the window frame as they tried to follow.

"We can't stay here!" David shouted, already climbing down the fire escape ladder.

They descended rapidly, their hearts pounding in their chests. The Deadites' howls echoed in the alley below, a constant reminder of the threat that awaited them should they falter.

As they reached the ground, Ethan took a moment to assess their situation. "We need to find another way in. There has to be a back entrance or a loading dock."

Brandon nodded, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings. "There! That loading bay might lead us back inside."

They made their way through the alley, their weapons at the ready. The loading bay was large and dimly lit, crates and pallets stacked high.

"This place is clear," David said, his voice echoing in the large space. "But it won't stay that way for long."

Ethan approached a closed door, his pistol raised. "This should lead us back inside. Be ready for anything."

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The team moved with cautious steps, their senses heightened.

Suddenly, a low, guttural voice echoed through the hallway. "You cannot hide from me. Your souls will feed the darkness."

Ethan's blood ran cold as he recognized the voice. It was the same malevolent force they had encountered at the Rise incident, the ancient evil that had caused so much destruction.

"It knows we're here," Brandon whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

"We have to keep moving," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the dread filling his veins. "We're getting close to the source."

They continued down the hallway, their footsteps slow and deliberate. The air grew thicker with an oppressive energy, the very fabric of reality seeming to warp and twist around them.

Rounding a corner, they came face to face with a nightmarish scene. The hallway was filled with Deadites, their bodies contorted and twisted, their eyes glowing with unholy light. But it was the figure standing at the far end that drew their attention.

It was a man, or at least, it had once been. His form was distorted, his body contorted in impossible angles. Tendrils of darkness writhed around him, and his eyes, glowing an intense yellow, fixed on the team with an unblinking intensity.

"Welcome, agents of light," the figure said, his voice like a thousand whispers. "Your journey ends here."

Ethan raised his pistol, his hand steady despite the terror that gripped him. "We're not leaving until we banish you back to the depths of hell!"

The figure laughed, the sound sending shivers down their spines. "You cannot defeat me. The darkness has already won. Your world will fall, and your souls will be mine!"

The Deadites advanced, their movements jerky and unnatural. The team opened fire, their bullets tearing into the creatures, but it was like shooting at the tide, an unending wave of evil.

"We need to get out of here!" David shouted, his bat swinging wildly.

Ethan knew he was right. They had to retreat and regroup. "Fall back! We'll find another way!"

They turned to flee, but it was already too late. From the shadows, more Deadites emerged, blocking their path. They were surrounded.

Brandon's eyes widened in horror. "We're trapped!"

Ethan's mind raced, searching for a way out. "We have to fight our way through! We can't let this evil win!"

With a battle cry, they plunged back into the fray, their weapons a blur of steel and gunfire. The Deadites fell, one by one, but their numbers seemed endless.

Suddenly, a blinding light filled the hallway, causing the Deadites to stagger and recoil. A figure stepped forward, their form shrouded in a brilliant aura.

"Ethan Crutchly, your journey has brought you to the heart of darkness," the figure said, their voice filled with power and compassion.

Ethan squinted, his eyes adjusting to the light. "Who... who are you?"

"I am the Guardian," the figure replied. "A protector of the light. I have sensed the evil that has taken root here, and I have come to aid you in your battle."

Hope surged within Ethan's chest. "Then we must fight together! This evil cannot be allowed to spread any further!"

The Guardian nodded, their form shimmering with power. "Then let us join forces and purge this darkness from the world!"

With the Guardian's aid, the tide of the battle turned. The Deadites fell before their combined might, their twisted forms crumbling to dust.

The ancient evil, sensing its defeat, let out a howl of rage. "You may have won this battle, but the war is far from over! The darkness will rise again, and next time, there will be no escape!"

The Guardian turned to Ethan, their eyes filled with determination. "This victory is but a temporary reprieve. The evil has taken root, and it will seek to corrupt and destroy. We must be vigilant and prepare for the coming storm."

Ethan nodded, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their battle was far from over. "We'll be ready. We won't let the darkness consume this world without a fight."

With the threat momentarily vanquished, the team took a moment to catch their breath. The Guardian's presence filled them with a sense of hope and determination.

"We have much to discuss," Ethan said, his gaze sweeping over the team. "But for now, let's get out of here and regroup. We've earned a brief respite, but the war against the darkness is far from over."

With the memory of their fallen teammates fueling their resolve, they made their way out of the building, their minds already turning to the challenges that lay ahead. The battle lines had been drawn, and they knew that their fight against the evil that lurked in the shadows was far from over.

**Epilogue:**

In the aftermath of the harrowing mission, Ethan Crutchly and the remaining members of his team found solace in the knowledge that they had played a crucial role in containing the evil that threatened their world. The ancient force, though temporarily vanquished, would surely rise again, and they knew their battle was far from over.

The team, now bonded by the shared trauma and their encounter with the Guardian, vowed to be ready for whatever came next. They would train, they would prepare, and they would stand as a beacon of light against the encroaching darkness.

The Evil Dead incident at the high-rise building would go down in the annals of their careers as a testament to their courage and resilience. It served as a reminder that evil could lurk in the most unexpected places and that their vigilance was essential to protect the innocent.

Ethan, Brandon, and David, the survivors of that fateful mission, would go on to become renowned experts in their field, their names synonymous with courage and heroism. They would train new recruits, sharing their knowledge and experiences to forge a new generation of defenders against the forces of darkness.

The memory of their fallen teammates, Mike and Sarah, would forever be etched in their hearts, a constant reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of good. Their legacy would inspire future SWAT teams to face the unknown with unwavering bravery.

And in the quiet moments, when the weight of their experiences threatened to overwhelm, they would remember the words of the Guardian—a beacon of hope in a world shrouded by darkness. The battle against evil was eternal, but so too was the light that dwelled within them.

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 48 - The Blight

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Blighted tree icon)(1) In which there's a conversation that catches some readers off guard.

That morning, Lord Agelmar and all the lances rode east at daybreak, the farmers and most of the common people riding out a different gate toward a city further from the Blight and battle. The only people remaining in the city were a few old men, and a handful of soldiers who volunteered. Fal Dara could not be allowed to fall totally undefended, in the worst case. The smallest column leaving the city were headed north, to the Blight.

Ingtar and a hundred lances accompany the party to the border with what used to be Malkier. He's grumpy because this means he'll be late to the battle at Tarwin's Gap, but he's also been commanded not to set foot in the Blight, and Agelmar wouldn't tell him why. Moiraine tells him it's as she planned with Agelmar, and Ingtar grumps and bids them farewell, so he can ride hard to Tarwin's Gap and get some battle in. Nynaeve asks if he's so eager to fight Trollocs, and Ingtar replies that it's what he is, what he was born for.

An hour's ride north of the border, the temperature starts to rise, but it feels wrong. Rand sees a tree that looks mottled with yellow and red spots, and Lan tells them some of the dangerous creatures that live here, a stick bug which can bite and leave a venom that will digest a whole body being the least of them.(2) Every mile further they ride, the wrongness gets more intense. Lan and Perrin are the only two who don't seem to be affected.

Eventually they get to an area near enough to the mountains to have cold breezes, but even those feel bad, like the icy chill of opening a tomb. Moiraine says there's an area nearby where they can make camp, it will be a good omen to camp there, and they'll be able to cross the mountains at noon, when the DO's eye is weakest. They crest a hill, and Lan slows, so Rand looks where Lan does. There are seven hills in the distance, and as the sun lowers to a certain angle near the horizon, a couple of them glint. Not hills: seven towers. Lan dismounts, his face as stony as ever.

Nynaeve asks if they can't camp by some small lakes in sight of their hill, and Mat adds that he'd stick his head in and maybe never take it out. Then something disturbs the surface of the water, rolling on and on, until a tail raises five spans into the air. And along the whole length of the tail, tentacles writhing like worms. It fades, and Rand exchanges a look with Perrin, both disbelieving. There couldn't have been *HANDS* on the ends of those tentacles. Mat changes his mind about the lake.(3)

They make camp, and settle down for the evening. The camp is surrounded by a “Bending” of the light, to keep them less visible with the fire going. Egg says she could probably do it even now. Nynaeve says she should go to Tar Valon with Egg after this, just so she’ll have a familiar face around. Egg gets excited and says the boys will come too, right, and Rand can train to be her Warder. Rand agrees, even as he remembers Min’s warning.

Later, Rand lays in his spot though he has trouble finding sleep, but nearly everyone else is snoring in short order. Everyone except Lan and Nynaeve, who are still sitting up by the fire.

Nynaeve hands Lan a cup of tea and says, she should have known he would be a king. He says he's not a king, just a man, with nothing to his name. Not even a farm. Nynaeve says steadily that some women don't ask for land, or gold, just the man. Lan counters saying the man who would ask her to accept so little wouldn't be worthy of her. He calls her remarkable, a lioness.

“A Wisdom seldom weds.” She paused to take a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “But if I go to Tar Valon, it may be that I will be something other than a Wisdom.” “Aes Sedai marry as seldom as Wisdoms. Few men can live with so much power in a wife, dimming them by her radiance whether she wishes to or not.” “Some men are strong enough. I know one such.” If there could have been any doubt, her look left none as to whom she meant. “All I have is a sword, and a war I cannot win, but can never stop fighting.” “I’ve told you I care nothing for that. Light, you’ve made me say more than is proper already. Will you shame me to the point of asking you?” “I will never shame you.” The gentle tone, like a caress, sounded odd to Rand’s ears in the Warder’s voice, but it made Nynaeve’s eyes brighten. “I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile. No woman deserves the sure knowledge of widow’s black as her brideprice, you least of all.” He set the untouched cup on the ground and rose. “I must check the horses.” Nynaeve remained there, kneeling, after he had gone.(4) Sleep or no, Rand closed his eyes. He did not think the Wisdom would like it if he watched her cry.

=====

(1) Not to be confused with the dead tree, which is for forests at night. This one is special for the Blight. (2) How very bidi-taurabo-haza of you. (I've been rereading Seanan McGuire's InCryptid series leading up to book 13, and one of the Patreon shorts has one of these as a plot point. I couldn't just NOT comment on it and drop a rec for one of my other favourite book series.) (3) Good call, bud. (4) This really came out of nowhere for me the first time I read it, but in retrospect, it's sort of set up, particularly in Nynaeve's chapters. Just. Sigh. Lan so firmly believes that he's doomed because of the promise on his behalf as a child to avenge his country, as part of the oath of kingship. And Nynaeve has grown feelings for him anyway. And the best-worst is that he has no lack of feelings for her, but he wants so much more for her than what he thinks his life has to offer. Tragedy.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

behind the scenes shots ft. akd as the adjudicator, from this article about the cinematography

“In Hollywood, action filmmaking was kind of looked down upon until The Matrix, and then people realized that action could also be part of the story,” [director] Stahelski notes. “I come from a place of loving dance and theater and fine art — action can be all of those things — and one of my favorite painters is Caravaggio.” When he was looking for a cinematographer for John Wick: Chapter 2, Stahelski recalls, “I asked myself, ‘Who paints with light?’ The answer is Dan Laustsen.” In strictly cinematographic terms, Parabellum functions less like an action movie and more like a Hollywood studio musical. The film’s first battle is a close-quarters knife fight in an antique weapons shop, where the camera cuts from wide shot to wide shot, sustaining the action in long takes so that the audience can better appreciate the physical prowess of Reeves’ performance — an elaborate fighting style that combines Japanese judo and jujitsu, Brazilian jujitsu, Russian sambo, Filipino kali, and Muay Thai, more for the benefit of show than for self-defense.  “Ninety-nine percent of high-level stunt work is dance — not pirouettes, but how you move your body,” asserts Stahelski, who continues to train stuntpeople with Leitch through their company 87eleven. “I love the aesthetic of motion. A lot of our shots [in Parabellum] are lifted straight from Singin’ in the Rain and West Side Story. We’re mixing Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin with Hong Kong cinema from John Woo, Jackie Chan and the Shaw Brothers.” “We wanted to go wider than Hollywood action films normally do and really show off the choreography,” Laustsen agrees. “When the camera, lighting and actors are all moving together, it really is a dance.”

“After we made Chapter 2,” Laustsen notes, “we discussed how we could make 3 even more visually powerful. The main setting was still New York, but we wanted to bring out the city even more forcefully. We decided to shoot all at night, with rain as much as possible. Rain is fantastic because it gives a third dimension to the picture, but it is a challenge to do it, especially in a city like New York.”

The Master Anamorphics’ low-distortion design also prevents dramatic, streaking lens flares, and so the technicians at Arri Rental in Secaucus, N.J., fashioned a flare filter — comprising three strands of nylon fishing line stretched across an empty filter frame — for the XT’s and Mini’s Internal Filter Modules. When a front-of-lens filter produces a flare, Laustsen observes, it “just looks like the light is catching on a piece of flat glass in front of the lens. It’s more beautiful when the flare comes from the lens itself” — and that’s the effect that was replicated with the behind-the-lens nylon lines. “With the filters inside the camera,” the cinematographer adds, “it was also easier for first assistant Craig Pressgrove to do the lens changes.”

The exterior of the Continental was shot in lower Manhattan, but the hotel’s interiors were filmed in downtown Brooklyn, in the former Williamsburgh Savings Bank tower — which now serves as an event space —whose glass-and-wrought-iron front doors open to a 128'-long vaulted banking hall with limestone facing, marble floors, carved teller stations, and a 63'-high ceiling supported by Romanesque columns. For its role as the Continental’s lobby, the hall was furnished by Kavanaugh with two round settees crowned with statues of the Roman war gods Bellona and Mars, a fully-stocked bar, and a lounge on the mezzanine. 

Parabellum’s stages were located at Gold Coast Studios in Long Island, N.Y. The first of the production’s two notable stage-bound sets is the Continental’s terrace, for which the Rockefeller Center rooftop garden was used in Chapter 2. The schedule didn’t allow for much time to shoot Parabellum’s scene, which takes place at sunrise. “You cannot make the sun rise [for] a movie,” Laustsen notes wryly. “It’s one or two shots, and then you have daylight, and then you’re fighting to control the light.”  So, for more control, the scene was moved onstage, where the set was surrounded with a sectional 45'x350' bluescreen lit with SkyPanel S120s; a 120' black velour curtain was used to control blue spill coming from off-camera. Early-morning ambience was provided by 176 overhead SkyPanel S60s, and the light of the rising sun was simulated by a 20K tungsten Fresnel and a 24K Dino light with medium bulbs, both gelled with 1⁄2 CTS. The other key set built at Gold Coast was the “manager’s office,” a labyrinthine two-story glass-and-steel structure meant to represent the top floors of the Continental, with a 270-degree view of the adjacent skyscrapers. It’s in this space that Wick and Zero ultimately face off mano a mano. “The concept was to create a space where everything is exposed, a place where there are no secrets,” Kavanaugh explains.  To help him integrate the lighting into the design of the set itself, Laustsen worked with a virtual-reality computer model based on Kavanaugh’s design. “Chad, Kevin and I had discussions about color — cool lights inside, warm light outside,” says the cinematographer, who wanted what he describes as an “organic” light element for both spaces. The art department therefore added a 35'x14' LED wall to the set’s second floor and a 28'x12' LED billboard to the rooftop; the latter was positioned between the glass structure and a 40'x440' Rosco SoftDrop that was backlit by 150 SkyPanel S60s through Magic Cloth sourced from The Rag Place.  Almeida and his rigging crew installed more than a mile of LiteGear Chroma-Correct RGB-Daylite LED LiteRibbon into the glass and steel set, using aluminum profile and plastic diffusers provided by Kavanaugh’s art department. Cues were orchestrated from an ETC Ion Xe console operated by Kent Arneson; Laustsen took advantage of that control to increase the intensity of the light over time — until the very end of the fight, when the two combatants are photographed primarily in silhouette against the LED walls. 

Wick literally fights his way through the set — alternately smashing his opponents and being smashed through glass pedestals, walls and floors — until he comes face to face with his nemesis. “We filmed this sequence with a [Chapman/Leonard Hustler IV] dolly and a Libra head, a Steadicam, and a couple of crane shots [with a MovieBird 45 and Aerocrane jib],” Laustsen details. “We didn’t want to go handheld because of all the straight lines. It would be a much more powerful look for the film if the frame was always parallel to the set.” “When we did bring in lights for the close-ups, we used Arri SkyPanel S60s and Astera AX1 LED tubes that we could attach virtually anywhere using magnets and clips,” Almeida adds. “The Astera tubes worked out great because they’re easy to hide, and if you saw a reflection, it just looked like the lighting that was built-in already.”

[the-fourth-knower]

Sonic Underground: Last Resort: A Re-Telling Chapter 8

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |

Aw heck I let my upload schedule slip! Anyways here it is, chapter 8!

More set up, a necessary part of any story.

Leisurely Strolls at noon, Philosophical Debates in evening

The sun was a quarter through the morning rise when Manic arrived at the village. It almost felt like a far cry from the village when they arrived the day before, when most people returned to their homes.

Where streets were abandoned the day before, now throngs of people crowded around on their way to and fro. Vendor carts lined the streets, the owners standing next to them announcing their wares or readying themselves for the day. And through it all snaked a green hedgehog, navigating the crowd with ease.

Man, city streets these sure aren't! This is almost too easy. And speaking of too easy...

Manic eyed pockets and purses all around him - the thief in him was oh so tempted to sneak his hand in and take off with a wallet. Or two. Three if he was ambitious. Then he shook his head.

No, Manic. Focus. You're not here for that, you got things to do!

As he walked by an apple cat, his hand slipped out from his side. An apple was snatched, and as fast as it went out his arm returned. Nothing against grabbing a quick bite to eat in the absence of breakfast.

“New toys, fresh from the city! The latest from Meteortech’s Pawny toy line! Fun for the whole family, 3 and up!”

“Need a gift for your special someone?” Weird, that voice sounded completely unconvinced of the hype it was supposed to sell. “Why not a golden egg, made from a real egg…”

Manic eyed the so-called ‘golden egg’ as he walked past. No wonder that the voice of the person at the ‘gold egg’ stall sounded unenthused.

Man, that stuff isn’t even real gold. And it’s Eggman? Pass.

He got a few feet away from the cart before his brain caught up to itself. Eggman?

He slipped back around, right behind a group heading the other way until he caught a glimpse of the cart. 

Sure enough, an Eggman logo squatted upon the cart like an unwelcome blemish on a wall.

Great, the place gets Eggman merch. But then we’re in Eggman’s territory, so of course they’d have it.

Manic turned around, continuing his pace down the road. He couldn’t help but notice that more than half the stalls were either Eggman or probable Eggman shell companies. Again, Eggman territory and all. But that knowledge did nothing to make Manic any less uneasy.

Then he heard something that made his ear twitch, and his skin crawl.

“Did you hear about the Resistance attack?” a middle pitched feminine voice said, cutting its way across the din of the crowds.

Oh boy. What’s that about?

Manic slipped against a corner of a building - a launder mart, it looked and smelled like. Leaning to the side against the wall, he saw the source of the voice - three ladies, seemingly middle aged, chatting away together.

“Oh yes!” the middle of the group said, a squirrel lady with a lower voice. “Didn’t they destroy a bridge recently?”

“I heard that it was a factory, myself,” the third of the group said, a dog with a highish voice.

“No no, it was a dock of some kind,” the first voice, a macaw, said. “Those were last week.”

The monkey lady’s face soured at that. “Ugh. They can’t leave well enough alone, can they? Always go and cause more destruction and chaos!”

“And make everything worse for us normal people,” the dog said, shaking her head. “Thankfully, the security forces are more than enough to drive them back into their hidey holes.”

“A shame they can’t drive them out for good!” the macaw said. The other two nodded their heads, murmuring agreements.

“Do these people think that the Resistance is that bad?” Manic said, too soft for anyone to hear him over the hubbub of the crowds in the street.

“Oh, and have you seen those latest cleaning robots?” the monkey woman said, changing the subject for the group.

“The Egg-o-cleaners?” the dog said. “Oh yes! Such delightful little things. You’d hardly think they’re from Meteotech!”

The macaw let out a huff. “Shame that they are so pricey, they’d make keeping care of the house much easier.”

Oh. Brother.

And here he was, getting used to the place. And they turn out to be… well. Not Eggman sympathizers, quite, but they weren’t opposed to the doctor. Just trying to thread the middle. And so blatantly falling for the man’s con schemes.

It was understandable, honestly. People enjoyed their stability, not upheaval. But not something that would work out long term - it was putting yourself at the whims of a madman.

Manic was not the one to think in the long term, though.

Alright. How do I find the others so we can scram outta here without attracting attention?

__________

In another part of the valley, Tails hovered in place, handing over his eyes as he looked around. So far, his searching failed to turn up any signs of Eggman’s contraptions, machines, or even likenesses of his mustached head. There were weird structures all around the valley edge, but he would have to look at them later.

“Okay - nothing over there,” Tails turned to look at another part of the valley. “Annnnd nothing over there.”

There was a sure lot of nothing but plants. Not a single bird in sight or sound.

In fact, now that Tails was thinking about it,  he couldn't remember seeing or hearing a single animal the whole them that he'd been in the valley. Insects excluded. In fact, any animal that was big enough to possibly power a badnik seemed to be missing.

Tails landed in a tree, wiping sweat off his brow as he pulled out the handheld. 

"Alright...so, no obvious Eggman signs," Tails said, tapping away on the screen and bringing up photos he took. "Except for the consipicious lack of animals..."

It was just on the corner of his vision. But it was there. The unmistakable sign of light reflected off a metallic surface.

“- of… Wait a second. What’s that over there?”

With no hesitation, Tals flew in closer. Landing in the foliage, he crept up to the source of the reflection. And what a source it was.

Row upon row of oil drums, nestled away under tarps. Each one proudly emblazoned with the logo of Eggman Industries.

“Oil drums! And they all have Eggman logos!”

Tails took out his handheld, using it to take a photo of the oil drums. Then he began a scan of the drums, checking on whether they were full or not.

“Hmm…” Tails furrowed his brow, staring at the readings on his screen. “Most of these are empty, but some definitely have oil in them!”

Tails put his hand onto his chin, going into full ponder mode. “So Eggman must be making the people here store his stuff. Or maybe just Stripes?”

“Hmm… maybe I should let Sonic know about this.”

Tails ran his finger across his chin, trying to think where Sonic could be at. Then he shook his head.

“No, I should check it out first on my own. Then I’ll let him know!”

Tails hoped out of the bush he was in, heading towards the drums-

Bwarp. Bwarp. Bwarp.

- and right into an alarm.

“Yipe!” Tails jumped up into the air with fright, tails bristling out. “Whuh oh! That’s not good!”

Tails leapt back into the bushes he emerged from, crouching down as peered out into the small depot. Maybe he should run now, but why not see if there’s anything else to be used as evidence.

Holes in the ground, before looking like the rest of the dirt around, slid open, out emerged a series of badniks. Slicers, Motobugs, Buzz Bombers, RhinboBots, Coconuts. The works.

“Eggman’s robots! That’s not good…”

It made sense - Eggman oil depot, Eggman robot guards. With how cheap badniks were, Eggman had no problem dispensing them to every outpost of his, no matter how small.

Tails waited for the badniks to fan out away from his hiding spot. Then, he crept back away from the depot - then took straight to the skies as soon as he was in a clear spot.

Okay. So. Eggman oil storage, badniks running around… Time to go find the others so we can plan out what to do! Just need to find them!

Wherever they are.

_________

The tour went on for a while. Sonia learned a great deal of the village history, at least as colored by Stripes. Much of it sounded fantastical, if she was honest - a giant wild honey badger saving Oasis Valley with all you can eat honey? Please.

Stripes now led her out of the village, down the main stream that dominated the northwest end of the valley.  The two passed by a large net like filter - Sonia wasn’t sure what that was for, but kept quiet about it.

The sound of rushing water was joined by something else - more water, but a low soft roar. She soon discovered the source, as she and Stripes walked out into a clearing.

“And here it is,” Stripes said, sweeping his arms out wide, “the gem of our beautiful valley!

Before them was a waterfall, far larger than the ones by the hotel. It emerged from an entrance in the valley wall, pouring forth down three pools before it landed into the stream. Sunlight hit the water, bouncing off into a brilliant shower of light on the surrounding area. Towards the left were some benches, no doubt meant for relaxation near the waterfall.

“Oh my! It’s certainly beautiful.” Sonia said in wonder, eyes wide at the sight before her.

“It is, isn’t it?” Stripes said, hand on his chin. “It’s been for as long as the valley has been, carving out its course while dazzling all with its beauty.”

Sonia nodded her head in agreement. However, there was something that seemed…off, about the waterfall. A few moments of staring rewarded her with the source of it - sand and dirt were piling around the areas the water dropped down.

That must be from the wastes around here…who knows what else may be in the water. Explains the filter earlier, at least.

But no need to bring that up, not when she was interested in something else.

“Must be hard, keeping it this pristine. Tell me, how do you do it?”

“We’re quite diligent in maintaining the beauty of our home.” Stripes strode over to a bench set up near the waterfall.  “It’s our main draw, after all,” he said, as he sat down, “we do need to fund ourselves somehow.”

“I see...” Sonia walked towards another bench, setting herself down in it. ”Are you running a tourist trap of sorts?”

Stripes let out a laugh, one that sounded hollow to Sonia’s ears. “We like to use the term, nature preserve.”

“Nature preserve, huh?” Sonia leaned back against the bench, keeping herself in a well practiced sitting pose. “Not sure if that’s quite the correct use for the word.”

“Perhaps not as it is defined, no. But… Well,” Stripes leaned against his bench crossing one leg across the other’s knee, “we live in interesting times, where many things that once were taken for granted must now change to fit the new realities.”

“The Eggman Empire.” Sonia said, careful to keep her tone neutral.

“The latest in a long line of the powers that be,” Stripes said, dipping his head in a small nod. “Whatever they say, everyone else has to listen.” A ghost of a frown - or perhaps sneer- flashed across Stripes’s face. “Or else.”

“And that is how you have kept your village intact, I imagine.” Sonia shifted her position on the bench, keeping herself up right as she observed Stripes.

“Indeed” Stripes said, staying reclined in his seat. Perhaps in an attempt to put her at ease. “And his tax rates aren’t too unreasonable.”

“You understand that he changes his mind at a whim, correct?” Sonia set her hands on her lap, keeping a gentle gaze on Stripes. “‘One day he’s perfectly fine taking your money, the next he might be evicting you to create space for a personal pool.”

“I’m aware that he is capable of such actions.” Stripes was sitting up now, both feet set on the ground. “And on the other hand, so long as we don’t provoke him, then the chances of that stay low.”

“Stripes, my good sir!” Sonia raised her hand up to her mouth, at first glance in surprise. Though in truth, it was anything but.

“I did not take you for an optimist.” she said, letting herself lean back. She watched Stripes, keeping her gaze focused on his reactions.

“It’s realism, honestly.” Stripes said, setting resiting an arm on one leg as he shifted himself towards Sonia.

Sonia let out a hum, crossing her legs against each other. “It sounds more like trying to appease a predator with grapes, when you are the prey.”

“What else can we do, then? Do we try to fight against him, and ensure a swift retaliation upon us all?”

“I will concede that it is a fine rope walk to balance,” Sonia said. “but if at any time everything you have can be stripped away at one man’s whim, then should you not be prepared for the worst?”

Stripes smiled, raising a hand to adjust his glasses. “Been making it work so far. And I intend to keep it working - as long as I’m keeping the people of my home safe, that’s what matters.”

“But at what cost?” Sonia moved her legs, setting both firmly on the ground. The back and forth was drawing to a head - she felt it in her instincts. “How long until they realize they’re caught in a trap?”

“As long as we’re alive and our homes safe, being ‘trapped’ is not so bad a thing.” Stripes looked straight into her eyes, his own hidden by the shades he wore. “Would you not agree?”

There it was. The barbed question, one meant to probe into her loyalties.

She could lie of course. Give an answer that was a half truth or falsehood, like she so often did amidst the noble intrigues she grew up amongst.

It would be easy.

But she was not the same Sonia as back then.

“When one is beholden to the whims of a megalomaniac?” Sonia gazed back unflinchingly at Stripes. “I simply cannot agree at all.”

“A poor stance to have on such things, Miss.” Stripes’s voice went down an octave, a brow raised. “I hear many are taken for more innocuous things.”

“Maybe. But at least I actually have the guts to fight for their sake, and everyone else's.”

Before Stripes could respond, a beeping sound came from something on Stripes’s waist. He glanced down at it, then back at Sonia.

“Pardon me, Sonia.” he said, standing up from his bench. “One moment.”

Sonia stayed where she was as Stripes walked away. As he did, she noticed what Stripes failed to - Manic waving at her from behind one of the many trees around them.

The fact he was here, and Stripes just got a call…

Oh no… what did he do now.

Stripes seemed to have a scowl as he re-entered the glade. If it was there, he smothered it down by the time he reached Sonia.

“Apologies, but something just came up.” he said with a bow to her. “It requires my urgent attention. I must leave you now.”

Sonia nodded at Stripes, then gave him a small smile. “I hope that it’s not Eggman making a surprise renovation announcement for here.”

Stripes frowned at Sonia, before turning to leave. He looked over his shoulder, fixing her with the corner of his eye - a rare chance to even see his eyes.

“...I urge you to rethink your life. What you’re on now will bring you only pain and misery.”

With that, Stripes looked away from Sonia, striding off like he was on a mission.

[tickldpnk8]

Season of Mists Reread Ch. 6

So I'm currently rereading Season of Mists and blogging about the clues I'm seeing. You can see the previous posts here:

Prologue/Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 Bonus: At Death's Door

But on with this latest analysis! At this point, the story is starting to wrap up, and we get the showdown between Morpheus and Azazel. I saw an excellent post on the showdown itself, so I won't go into all that here. But as I read through things looking for clues to the nature of Dream and also foreshadowing, I did spot a few.

On Dream

For one, it's confirmed that Morpheus/Dream doesn't sleep:

He's a bit of a hoarder who likes to store things in his personal pirate chest. The contents of this were also discussed on that Azazel-battle thread, so I won't go into it just yet.

And we see a bit more of how different folks' perceptions of his aspect works as he rescues Nada. In the panels right before this mouth opens, we see the Morpheus we're all familiar with. As soon as Nada can see him, he changes into Kai'kul. And then he's back to his "usual" appearance once she's safe and he's out of her line of sight. I think this is mostly for our benefit as we can only see one drawing of him at a time. But I would now hazard a guess that to all the dignitaries gathered in his throne room, they would each see him as they might have seen him when they are alone. (But who would Bast see?) I think we default to the Reader's perspective of his aspect unless only one other character is viewing him who might have a different perspective. (since we are a character in the story)

On Dream's relationship to his realm

We learn that aside from controlling the weather of the Dreaming, he has complete control over whether it's day or night. If you were wondering how he possibly met with everyone in such a short time, it's because he didn't let the sun rise.

This fancy ceiling room that has been discussed at length is apparently also his throne room?? Or did he move it here from where it was the night before for convenience? In any case, things shifted. The throne now seems simpler than the last we saw it with the Egyptian motifs, but the green drapes remain. His dais is still close to the ground as it was the night before, but much lower than in previous story arcs/issues.

And his castle sits at the Heart of the Dreaming. It is not only his home, but his place of power. He has complete control over reality: "It is what I wish it to be – no more, no less."

On the Plot

Now let's look at the clues to the over-arching plot of the whole Sandman run. I found a few of interest that I didn't notice before.

Aside from Loki seemingly distraught to be leaving at the end and trying to get away from Thor, we get this one small detail within the title page spread that I totally missed the first time:

Meanwhile, Nuala overhears Merlin commenting on the Greek gods not coming. I think this works as a story point on 2 levels: I suspect it ties into larger DC continuity knowing that Wonder Woman's comics regularly show them. But it also works in isolation since it seems they don't tend to get on well with Morpheus from what we've seen of the Calliope story. Or it might just be setting the stage for that relationship if I'm misremembering when we learn things from my first read-through.

And then finally we have that pirate trunk panel mentioned above. I'll add it here again for reference:

In it, we've got the Corinthian's skull, Ornament-Azazel, a ring, another ornament-like bulb (or is it a grenade?? hard to tell), a leather book that is buckled shut, a city in a glass bottle, a penny, and 2 canisters in the background. It'll be interesting to see which of these comes up again. Corinthian we know about. I already know now what the bottle represents, but am wondering if/when I've seen the others.

And that's that! I'd like to do another wrap-up post on the ceiling and once I get to the end of Season of Mists, I'm tempted to do a master post on all the changes Morpheus' castle goes through in just these issues alone. Lots to dissect here. :D

[gamerartistfan08]

Space Goofs Chapter 1 part 2.

City

The new day starts as the sun rises, and the sky is clear as if the rain last night hadn’t happened.

We view the house and then zoom in as we hear a cheerful whistle, we see a green alien wearing a polka-dotted apron cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

His name is Candy and she likes to cook, clean, knit, etc, they have gotten up early to do her usual routine. Feeling happier today he decided to make everyone’s meals instead of getting the boys to have cereal or plain toast with spreading. The view then moved from the side of Candy to the kitchen door as the said door moved open quietly, it’s Gorgious as he has just gotten up by the smell of breakfast. He pokes his head in the kitchen to check if Candy is too busy with the cooking, Gorgious then quietly sneaks in for the kill (food), he then is near the counter filled with freshly made meals and stretches one of his arms towards his target. But before he could grab one, out of nowhere a spatula comes into view and smack Gorgious’ hand.

Gorgious: “Oowwch!! Hey, what was that for?!”

Candy: “I thought you would sneak in and gorge yourself with all the food I’ve prepared while leaving only nothing but crumbs for everybody else.” Candy then turns his face to the intruder.

Gorgious: “Aww, that’s not true Candy. I would only leave no crumbs behind so they won’t be so lonely and waste away.”

Candy rolled their eyes and sets them back on to Gorgious.

Candy: “Honestly Gorgious, if you don’t watch how much you eat, you’ll surely have a stomach ache. Not to mention, you seemed to put a bit more weight on yourself for the last couple of weeks.” Candy said as she lightly pokes Gorgious’ tummy.

Gorgious: “Weight?! Hey, I’m not fat, I’m just all muscles!” Then Gorgious flexed his ‘muscles’ to prove his point but the ‘muscles’ deflated back. Candy did a small chuckle and turned his head back to continue the cooking.

Candy” Whatever you say.” Gorgious is annoyed, then he reaches his arm out again when he thought the green alien is busy. Unfortunately for him, he was wrong. The same spatula smacks his hand like the last time. Gorgious: “Yeoowww!” Candy:” Don’t think I have forgotten about you so easily? You’ll have to wait until I say it is and if I see you still hanging around, there will be no dessert for you, young man!”

Gorgious was holding his hand and then begins to walk out of the kitchen while grumbling. At the same time a red two-headed alien walks in, his name is Stereo.

Stereo:” Oh, good morning, Gorgious.” said the higher-voiced head. Gorgious ignore the confused alien while he still grumbles as he walks out. Both of Stereo’s head face each other, Stereo:” What’s up with him?” ask the lower voice one. Candy:” Oh, good morning Stereo. Did you sleep well?” Stereo:” Morning-“ “Candy. We sure did. Watching the rain helps us a lot.” “We were calmed down by listening to the rain.” Both heads face each other with annoyance. “No, we were watching the rain!” “No, we weren’t, we just listened!” “We were watching!” “No, listening!” “Watching!” “Listening!” “Watching!!” “Listening!!”

Their argument continues as Candy is forced to hear the heads keep saying the same thing over and over again. Having enough of it, Candy turns around and points their spatula at Stereo. Candy” Alright, both of you, unless you want to volunteer to set up the table, stop arguing in my kitchen or go off to your room!” Both Stereos stopped and walks out, not wanting to stick around to be told off.

Meanwhile, we view a room with a couch and a small tv in it, on the said couch is an orange alien with three strands of messy hairs sticking out of his head and bloodshot eyes (either from watching too much tv or is just born with them.) The alien’s name is Bud, and he is the friendliest, calming one in the group. His eyes are glued to the screen as a show from the 80s is playing, and then Gorgoius walks through the room while he still grumbles. Bud: “Hey Gorgoius, grooving morning we’re having?” The blue continues his grumbles as he walks out of the room, Bud raises an eyebrow ( if he had any.), shrugs and returns to watching the show.

The next view we Etno still sleeping in his, still dreaming of being back home with his friends, until a loud bang of a door shuts as Etno is awoken by the sound. His head is still asleep but after looking at his room he realises his room, is on Earth. He let out a sigh as he turns his head towards the door and started processing what or who cause the noise. He then sits up and slowly stands up on his feet, begins to walk towards the door and opens it. Etno walks out and sees the doors of the other alien's rooms are all open, well except for one that is shut closed, Gorgoius'. Etno then walks to face the front of the door and knocks on it, Etno:" Gorgoius was that you that close your door loudly?" He waits for a reply but got none. It seems Gorgoius is in a bad mood for some reason. He knocked on the door again and reply's, Etno:" Gorgoius, are you alright?"

Gorgoius:" Go away!! I'm sleeping!!"

Etno started to get a little annoyed since he has just gotten up from the sound of a door slamming, he went knocking on the door once more with a bit of force.

Etno: "Gorgoius Klatoo get out of your room right now young man!"

Gorgoius: "Get out of your room right now young man!" Gorgoius mocking the purple alien.

Etno is not amused by his immature reply, Etno: "Alright, if you not going to come out or let me in I'll have to break the door down!" He then heard laughter from the other side of said door, Gorgoius: Ha! I like to see you try it, Einstein!"

Oh, that was it, feeling his patience has worn off Etno took some steps back from the door and started to get himself ready to crush the door open, even though he has no shoulders on him. He begins to count down slowly to zero, and when he says the word he rushes towards the door.

But before he touches the door Candy's voice shouts out

Candy: "Guys, breakfast is ready!" And at that moment the door opened and sandwich Etno into the wall,

Gorgoius: "Oh boy! It's about time!" Gorgoius races off to the kitchen while leaving poor Etno stuck on the wall after the door moves. Etno: "Well..., at least he's out of the room."

Hi again, just finished the second part, it’s a bit better then the both the first and draft parts. Try to make it sound like what the goofs would say or do in character. Who those who are wondering about the last bit of the first part there is a secret government ( probably the same ones from Once Upon A Time part 2) are making advances robots for some nefarious plans, and one of them is to capture all aliens that are hidden on Earth. Will our heroes be safe from them? They( secret government) won’t appear until later in the chapter at some parts ahead. Hope this work is good and please look forward for more, good night everyone!