#HANDWRITTEN MUSIC NO LESS

[bbreaddog]

Okay I’m rewatching jatp (as you do) and it just stumps me every time how Julie can just sight read AT TEMPO without making a single mistake after almost an entire YEAR of not playing??????? OR SINGING? Did she even warm up?? There is seemingly NO SIGN of muscle regression, or loss of technique, LIKE. I don’t think anyone could get their vocal folds to thin out into THAT clean of a chest mix after not singing for a year.

JULIE?????????????

[llamagoddessofficial]

So we've seen your Error headcannons, can we get your Nightmare ones since you're in a romantical mood?

Oh can you.....

He's a very complex individual. Under all that rage, when he likes you and wants your company, he's actually a very calm, intelligent and eloquent lover. Princely, if you will. He likes hearing you talk, and is very good at roping you into chatting about your hobbies for hours while he just adoringly stares. He enjoys the arts, music, poetry... once he finds someone he wants, you'd never even know how much anger he's set aside.

(Unlike Error, he's aware that constant anger isn't a very attractive trait)

While he's first starting to develop feelings, it's one of those situations where you won't realise how much he likes you until you see the way he acts around other people. You might think he feels neutral about you, at best- he talks to you, but never about himself, seeming to prefer when you're the one talking. Maybe chortles at a joke every now and then. But overall, he's relatively quiet, relatively still-faced... not very outwardly emotional in any manner.

... Then you see how he acts around everyone else. Hair-thin temper that leads to physical violence with anyone who annoys him too long, dismissive and mean about any subject, he tells people who talk too long to shut up and makes underhanded cruel 'jokes' at their expenses. The same tentacles that curl around your hand or stroke your back as he walks by will grab Dust around the head and slam him into the ground because he made a poorly timed joke.

Nightmare has an eye for traditional courtship. Once his heart is set on you, expect bouquets, jewellery, fine evening dining, strolls through midnight gardens, flowery handwritten letters. He carries a locket with your portrait.

You would think his love languages are gift giving and acts of service, considering how often it seems to be the only way he shows love. But deep down... it's actually physical touch. He's just far too afraid to show it.

Nightmare would do well with a physically affectionate partner. Someone who'll cuddle up to him first so has an excuse to snuggle back. But someone less physical would also be good- sometimes he's afraid his aversion to touch will drive away a partner, and somebody who doesn't really mind either way soothes those fears.

You can't lie to him. Well, I mean... you can. But he can sense it, and he'll always know. Whether or not he lets you think he believes you is up to him.

He has a locked box in his castle full of sketches and small oil paint studies of you. You'll know he's finally totally comfortable with you when he politely asks if he can draw you.

His tentacles often act on his true feelings. Whether that's snapping out to choke Killer for asking if you top, or lovingly curling around you when he's half asleep.

... He's actually pretty childish. Especially when in love. Though he's good at hiding it under layers of highborn mannerisms, he fucking hates when there are any potential rivals for your affection. He tends to lash out against the 'rivals' in underhanded manners whenever you're not looking, then really lay on the charm and affection with you to ensure you're not thinking of leaving him. If you're asexual or demi it may not be that big of a deal because he's soothed by your lack of interest in others, but if you're pansexual or bi, it might be a genuine problem that needs addressing.

Call him "my love". He likes feeling like your one and only.

[oldshrewsburyian]

Persuasion, detective AU

Your mind. My own currently addled brain is not equal to this, but a nebulous outline.

Walter Elliot, CEO of Kellynch Holdings, actually is stupid enough to do crimes without realizing it, and vain enough to presume that if he's doing it, it must be a Smart Business Decision and therefore not a crime, QED. This will become a problem, especially when he falls in with the more intentionally criminous Elliot and Clay Associates.

Admiral Croft is the grizzled detective™ pursuing the case.

Frederick Wentworth is the last person anyone (except Anne and, loyally, Sophy) expected to get a fancy law degree after getting out of the army, much less to take on the kind of work required to bring down white-collar criminals. He might love his job a little too much. Sophy occasionally mentions to him that the concept of a work-life balance has filtered into some corners of the legal profession, and even into some corners of the police.

Frederick has always presumed--allowed himself to presume--that Anne Elliot went to her conservatory, went to grad school, and vanished into the comparatively rarified* world of classical music. The last thing he expects is to find Anne teaching Beethoven to 9-year-olds and keeping the house and the accounts for her feckless family. He does not (repeat not) examine his feelings about needing to make sure that she is exonerated from any suspicion of complicity in wrong-doing.

Elizabeth runs a YouTube channel from which she attempts to influence. Mary is part of the essential oils racket. Frederick may or may not wonder if the entire damn family (Anne excepted) is stupid or criminal or both. But after telling Anne he's ready to submit his filings (if that is what I mean), he leaves a handwritten letter under the glass fruit bowl in the kitchen that only she uses.

*yes I know that tickets are exponentially cheaper than arena concerts or sportsball but it's about the cultural perception which I would argue still is kind of socially rarified. Don't yell at me, I routinely lower the average age of classical music audiences.

[lick-me-lennon22]

How they act when they're in love, but haven't confessed yet

(here is the second request fill for the previous anon !! sorry to keep you waiting ✨️ I hope this is what you had in mind!)

John

John is openly affectionate and flirtatious with you and will do anything he can to get your attention

he's also the embodiment of the "if he pulls your hair, that means he likes you" trope

he'll engage in playful teasing and banter with you, trying his best to get under your skin

in conversation, he'll make subtle references to shared interests or inside jokes, showing that he pays close attention to your preferences

John often slips you silly handwritten notes or doodles to make you giggle and blush

he invites you to rehearsals and recording sessions in an attempt to impress you with his songwriting prowess and musical talent

he'll send you handwritten letters or postcards when on he's tour to let you know he's thinking of you, showing a bit of his softer side

Paul

Paul is more traditional in his approach, doing things like writing anonymous love letters and complimenting your style of dress

he initiates subtle gentlemanly displays, like holding the door open for you or offering to share his umbrella on a rainy day

when you're near he'll find reasons to touch you casually, brushing against your arm or offering a reassuring pat on the back

even from across the room, he's always gazing longingly at you or shooting winks in your direction

Paul makes an effort to remember small details about your life like your coffee order or the names of your pets

he'll even dedicate songs to you during live performances, using the stage as a platform to subtly declare his affection

George

George prefers a subtler approach rather than grand gestures and is somewhat shy about showing his affection

however, this doesn't mean he's any less in love with you

he'll share meaningful glances and smiles with you from across the room, conveying his affection and admiration in a subtle yet powerful way

when he's feeling bold he'll find excuses to be near you, positioning himself strategically to create more opportunities for chatting

George always shares new books and music with you when he discovers something he thinks you might like

he'll ask about your interests to find common ground and reasons to spark up a conversation

he plays you demos or rough cuts of new songs he's working on, showing you that he values your opinions and seeking your approval in a display of trust and vulnerability

Ringo

Ringo is a bit more shy than the other lads when it comes to his crush

he'll joke around and be playful with you, willing to do anything to make you smile

he'll try his best to act naturally and be himself, wanting you to feel comfortable around him

he always finds reasons to spend time with you (like inviting you to see shows with him), seeking out opportunities for one-on-one interaction

Ringo often gifts you small tokens of appreciation like snacks or trinkets as a subtle way of expressing his feelings

he favors physical displays of love, afraid he will trip over his words or become tongue-tied if he tries to express his feelings through language

he'll mirror your body language and gestures, subconsciously displaying his affinity for and connection with you

he always notices subtle changes in your mood or behavior, demonstrating his devotion and offering support and comfort when you need it most

[crimsonred-hi]

Everything, Everywhere

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Warnings:

Summary: his lover is laying there, laying under 6 feet under the grass. Gone to the world. The love of his life: gone. Yet, he stills comes every week, to smile at her, and tell her that one day he’ll join her, but he promised her to live to the fullest… so he will.

He sits there, in front of the stone. It’s a pretty stone, with flowers painted on it, because his mother tried to make the stone pretty by painting on it.

He smiles at her, cutting the ends off the flowers he bought for her, making sure to cut them at a 45 degree angle so they last longer. It’s a bouquet of spring flowers, because the season is changing and he is going to the U.S. for a couple months, he wants the flowers to look right of the time.

He places the flowers out, making them look nice. He’s always known that the fact he never got over her was considered weird, but how could he: she was perfect and now she’s gone.

“How are ya doing, love?… I hope your well, I’m well. My life is going well… it’s weird, not having you around to fight of the groupies.”

He laughs warmly, smiling with that twinkle in his eyes, taking a memory of her arguing with a groupie because the girl was getting too close to him.

___

“Honey, why were you being like that?”

His lover grumbles from the side of him as they walk home form the pub, her arms crossed and his jacket over her shoulders.

“She was too fuckin close! She was too close. I didn’t like it.”

He sighs, moving closer, arm draped over her shoulders, pressing his lips too her forehead.

“Y/n, I’m not going to leave ya for some lass in the pub…”

She grumbles again, but she becomes a little less tense with his words.

___

“You were a funny gal… you really made me happy…”

The light in his eyes is lots at the need to use past tense when talking about her… she’s gone.

He can’t admit it, he doesn’t want to: why would he want to. He loves her, he can’t stop his love for her, but she’s not coming back. SHE IS NOT COMING BACK. He can’t say it out loud…

“I’m going on tour soon, I’m going to (your home city)… I’m gonna see your parents, celebrate your birthday with them… I’m so thankful that they let you stay in Ireland with me… I’m so thankful…”

He smiles back at the stone, her name cared into it with a curvy font. ‘Loving Daughter, Sister, Friend and Wife’. They weren’t even married, they never got the chance to get married, but her parents surprised him by putting wife on it: he cried when he read it. He wept and wept.

He still weeps.

He fiddles with the flower on her grave, trying to distract himself from the pain.

“Ermmm… I’ve got another album coming out… and I read that book you got me for my birthday, why didn’t you tell me you annotated it? I cried when I read your handwritten…”

He laughs warmly, running his hand through his hair.

“Your handwriting is so messy… and what possessed you to write in that awful purple pen?”

___

“Christ! Why are ya writin’ like that?”

She giggles, poking the pen into his arm, drawing on his arm and hurting him at the same time.

“Oi, I like this pen, it’s a nice colour.”

“It’s also blinding.”

He grumbles standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, kissing the back of her head and nuzzling into her hair.

“Come on, ya couldn’t have just written in black or blue?”

That sets her off, now she’s talking his ear off about how much she hates blue pen, his heart just melts as she talks with her hands.

___

He laughs that full belly laugh, the laugh that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and makes his smile wide, gorgeous.

“God! You were so fuckin funny! Good God… you were extraordinary…”

His thoughts break through, usually he would think about his own music when he was at her grave, Work Song is a constant in his mind… but he did that song with Noah Kahan recently, all he can think about is Everything, Everywhere… the title alone makes his breath shoulder, she was everything, she is everywhere.

“We cried, ‘oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh’

Everything, everywhere

I wanna love you ‘till we’re food for the worms to eat

‘Till our fingers decompose

Keep my hand in yours…”

The lyrics are soft on his lips.

He’s sang to her before, dead or alive. He felt like she was listening, he knew she wasn’t. He never believed in ghosts or the afterlife, it’s a warming concept, but is it true? He doubts it is. But he finds warmth in knowing that the plot next to his lover is bought and waiting for him.

It’s sad… he bought it the same day he bought hers.

He knows he’s still young, he knows he could find another, he could find many more… but the sheer idea of having another woman the way he had her makes him sick. It feels like cheating.

“Ya know, I made a song…. I make loads of songs, you know that… I made one about us… well, I’m telling the people it’s about characters in Dante’s Inferno…… it’s about how I would do it again… I would love you again even with the knowledge of what’s to come…”

“It’s a nice thought… well not nice, but ya know what I mean… I love the idea of meeting you again… even if it’s in hell.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Christ… what I would do to have you here or be there with you?”

He sighs, looking at the time on his phone… he’s gotta go. He doesn’t want too.

“I’m sorry, honey… I’ve gotta go… I’m sorry… I’ll visit when I can… I’ll be back I promise.”

His words are too soothe a nonexistent being, the being is gone, yet he still acts like he’s talking to his living lover.

He blows her a kiss, and leaving her grave behind. His heartbreaking yet again at having to leave. Wishing he could lie in the ground with her forever…

Im sorry. Im so, so sorry.

[the-remainder]

Our Kickstarter for the Expanded Edition of Chronicels of Tal’Dun: The Remainder is starting on 1st of August. Follow our prelaunch page here.

This is a story of two magi, Vyn and Ilar, who find themselves trapped in a collapsing tower with their only hope for salvation being a difficult ritual. Or at least that is what Ilar tells you. The thing is - you don’t remember anything, and Ilar’s story makes less and less sense the closer you are to the ritual. Are they hiding things to protect you from the bitter truth, or are they deceiving you for some more nefarious reason?

Guide Vyn’s actions to death and beyond and uncover Ilar’s truth. Are they your colleague, lover or something completely different? Read between the lines of what they are telling you, explore your surroundings for clues and use hands-on deduction to break the viscious circle and set them free.

What we want to do

Our main focus is to polish the writing in some areas, add more variations on the true endings and implement sound effects to accompany the music for better immersion.

We also plan to make some new art and to improve certain existing pieces. These are artworks we already made for the expanded edition:

We also want to make a short side story where characters from our other game Our Winding Road visit the tower of our magi. This will be a stretch goal, but I already drew the sprites for the characters. ^^ (I’m not very good at being patient hehe)

Rewards

Aside from the game itself and digital goodes like soundtrack, art and lore booklet and wallpapers, we prepared many physical rewards for our backers.

You’ll be able to get your hands on signed art prints, linocut block prints, handwritten letters and even the original ink drawings from the game.

And for those who like to own a physical editions, we’ll have a game + ost cd as well.

We hope you are looking forward to our expanded edition! Help us out by sharing this post so we can reach more people and make this a success. ^^

[sapphicacademic]

things to change about your study strategy if it isn't working

switch from paper to digital or visa versa, or switch it up every couple of weeks

stop trying to make things pretty if it's stressing you out

switch to handwritten notes, or try re-writing your notes after class

change the paper you're using, try a different pen

start using highlighters

try bullet journaling, it doesn't need to be pretty

if a physical planner isn't working, try a digital one like notion

try reading audiobooks instead

look into supplemental material on your class, e.g. crash course

work in a different place

change the music you listen to, i suggest nintendo and chill on spotify

take more/less breaks

change the time of day you study at

[stariikis]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 005

synopsis ; based on the Chinese Drama, 'When I Fly Towards You', in which you, a going-on-high-school English genius named Huang Yuting meets the Mathematics genius of the 10th grade, Nishimura Riki, underneath the rain.

Another C for English. Riki is hardly surprised. He sighs heavily and tosses his half-crumpled paper aside, wishing the language never existed. Why learn it when it’s not like he’s going to England to ride scooters around? And even if he does, why would he need to know a thousand different types of sentence structures and spelling rules? As long as the point is carried, right? 

He never has been a language boy, anyway. 

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounds from outside their classroom, and Riki has no idea why it sounds sweet as honey to him. 

“You wanna bet on that?” Huang Yuting whips her head towards Moka challengingly. 

In return, her best friend sticks out her tongue and teases, “Yeah, I bet you he won’t wanna. He’s too smart for that!” 

Yuting lets out a betrayed grumble, two hands reaching out to mock-strangle her, and that’s all Riki’s able to catch from their conversation. A few steps and they’re already out of earshot. He doesn’t know why his eyes continue to follow her down the hall; his head turns to aid his view; a dreamy smile begins to lift the corners of his lips… 

“Riki-ya!” 

Jungwon smacks the back of his head with his rolled up English paper. From beside him, right next to the corridor window, he looks absolutely befuddled. “Is it just me, or have I never seen you smile like that before?” 

“Maybe I just don’t like being around you,” Riki mutters back, and it’s got to be the longest sentence he’s uttered today. Turning back his attention to the class, even though he hardly understands a thing, he tells himself he has to. Perhaps he’s recently been distracted so he can’t perform as well as he would like. 

His mind unconsciously flashes back to Yuting squatting under the rain, and he has to scold himself for his brain to properly get the memo. Anyway, it can’t be her fault. He has never gotten anything higher than a low B for English, no matter how late he stays up to study and down cup after cup of coffee. He absolutely does not get distracted by her presence. 

“No but I think I’m going to fail Maths this time.” When Yuting’s voice rolls around once again, Riki has to physically restrain himself from staring out the window. He forces his ears to concentrate on the lesson, and locks his eyes on his exam paper. Smoothing out the crumples, he takes a while to process all the red markings on just the first page. Of course, in sloppy Japanese characters, his teacher asks to see him in the staff room after lesson. He’s used to this, after every single English test is returned. 

He’s used to being known as the smart kid, who cannot for the life of him get a good grade for second language. The pretty face with a pretty report card — if you cover up the English grade. He’s also known for being pretty well-rounded; he’s a good mixture of academically inclined and sporty, has been attending a dance academy since age five, and knows how to play a handful of musical instruments. And he draws and paints for fun. 

But being good at something doesn’t mean you excel at it, he has learned that the hard way, and he will continue to, over and over again. 

When the bell finally goes off to signal the end of class, he gathers his papers and makes his way to the staff room. Jungwon calls out behind him, but he doesn’t bother to respond. Much less stop to listen to what nonsense he has to say this time. 

“You’re joking.” 

A big fat F stares back into your face the moment you receive your Maths paper. There isn’t even a moment for you to compose your thoughts and slowly unveil your result. It’s just a huge symbol of failure, a handwritten bold letter that digs into your skin and rattles your sleeping brain cells awake. 

Why do you even bother flipping through the pages when all you’re greeted with are red crosses to match the F on the cover? You may not be the brightest student in the room, but you’ve never tasted this kind of failure before, and you can’t even speak because there’s a sour taste lingering on your tongue. 

Diagonal from you, Moka taps your shoulder in concern, seeing your bitterly disappointed expression. But you don’t bother to answer. You always knew you were bad, but when did bad turn into terrible? 

Even though you know you should be paying close attention to the lesson after messing up this badly, you can’t seem to get your head out of a daze. It feels too fogged up, too hazy. All you can think about are red strokes striking out your incorrect answers, a short but terrifying message from your Maths teacher, and Riki. 

He’s going to think you’re so pathetic, considering he’s never gotten anything below a ninety for Maths in his entire academic journey. You can already imagine the shock on his face morphing into utter disgust… and a hint of scorn crossing his features…

You tilt your head to the side as if emptying your brain of these thoughts; they’re not helping you in any way. However, the action doesn’t work, and these thoughts plague you even until the end of class, even when you take a step towards the staff room door and give it a little rap with your knuckles to seek permission to enter. 

However, the curious pair of eyes that meet yours as the door is opened for you… they are definitely not one of a teacher’s. Riki blinks slowly at you from the other side of the doorway, a crumpled paper clutched close to his chest. Upon realising it’s you, he folds the paper once more and hides it behind his back. 

“It’s you,” you mutter, in no mood for his usual silent antics. Breaking the highly eye contact, you brush past him coldly and head towards where you see your Maths teacher’s nameplate. For some reason, Riki follows close behind, and you can hear him playing with the creases on his papers. 

You whip around accusingly. “You’re being weird. Why are you here anyway? You can’t be here to see a teacher, your grades are so good.” You then gasp and cover your mouth, realisation striking. “Or did you do something wrong? Are you in trouble?” 

He frowns and rolls his eyes in response, before tossing the paper onto the teacher’s table. His English paper looks pretty similar to your Maths one, only that his C is significantly better than your F. By a large margin, in fact. Shame then swamps over you because you know your previous words must have stung, to someone who usually tops in everything. 

“Sorry…” and shit, you can’t meet his eyes again. Why do your interactions with him always turn out like this? 

In return, he throws you a mere shrug, and it just makes you feel worse. So you present your own Maths paper to him, letting him flip through it. His eyes widen slowly, as if he can’t believe you could ever score this low. And he probably does think that, and refuses to say it. As he refuses to say anything. 

Then, once again, he proves you wrong. “Your problems are conceptual. If someone could help you understand, I’m sure you’d do pretty well.” 

The way you feel completely and utterly stunned by his words is off-putting. Every time Riki opens his mouth, he never fails to make a lasting impact on you. No wonder he is one of the smartest boys in the whole school, despite being in the lowest level. 

“Maybe you should help me,” you jab teasingly, and not to mention, jokingly. You would never have expected him to actually agree with this proposition, even when he turns his head and smiles gently. 

“Maybe I should.”

taglist (open)

@laylasmother @seunnimg @natalunae @roumajuli @tomomorin

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[lil-tachyon]

For the last couple years I've been keeping a handwritten list of good horror stories I've read. I guess the most recommendable ones are The Music of Erich Zann by Lovecraft, The Stolen Body by Wells, Mimic by Wollheim, The Thing in the Weeds by Hodgson, Cyclops by Leiber, The Screaming Man by Beaumont, and The Open Window by Saki. I might type up and post the whole list on my blog after I've done some more reading (my list of things I still need to read grows much faster than the other list).

Including your other suggestions so I can tackle them all in one post.

I wasn't sure I was going to get to all these but I ended up being kinda knocked out by a nasty cold this week and had time to lay up in bed reading through all of them. Which was an absolute pleasure! Thank you for putting this list together. For fun I thought I'd do a mini-review of each story.

For context, I'm the kind of guy that's read probably every H. P. Lovecraft or Clark Ashton Smith story ever published. I had devoured most of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells by the time I was 14. What I'm trying to say is that I'm already a nerd pre-disposed to loving any Weird Fiction or early sci-fi/horror. If that kind of stuff isn't your speed, then adjust your expectations accordingly.

Also SPOILERS AHEAD for 50-100+ year old short stories.

"The Music of Erich Zann" - H. P. Lovecraft - 1921: This was always going to get a recommendation from me, I just enjoy Lovecraft too much. I'm glad I re-read it though, it had been a while and I think this might be one of my favorite of his stories now. The thing that stood out to me this time around was the exploration of the relationship between Zann and the anonymous protagonist. Feels uncharacteristic of a Lovecraft story to focus so much on the interactions between two human characters and it's done with a fair bit of depth. Bonus: no Lovecraftian racism in this story! Also check out this thrash/prog banger from the Mekong Delta album named after this story.

"The Stolen Body" - H. G. Wells - 1898: So when I opened up my copy of A Dream of Armageddon: The Complete Supernatural Tales (a misnomer it turns out, because it didn't contain the other Wells story on this list) I was surprised to find a bookmark exactly halfway through "The Stolen Body" from where I must've stopped the last time I tried reading this anthology over a decade ago. And I can understand why I would've stopped there because this story is kind of a slog. The premise is fine- a man severs his consciousness from his physical body in the course of an experiment in astral projection and is alarmed to find that when he attempts to return to corporeality another spirit has already taken possession of his frame. The problem is that this story is recounted twice- first from the perspective of a friend where, in spite of their incomplete information, it's pretty obvious what has transpired, and then a second time from the astral-projecting protagonist himself. In the protagonist's telling there's an interesting account of his journey through a kind of vapid hell where body-less spirits wander through eternity suffering of boredom and only able to interact with the physical world via mediums but the concept isn't explored in any depth and is recounted in a painfully "tell, don't show" manner. Can't say I recommend, but it's an interesting artifact of a time when late 19th century occultic beliefs showed up in sci-fi. Kind of like how a lot of 50s-70s sci-fi features psychics.

"Mimic" - Donald A Wollheim - 1942: My favorite story from the list. It's weird, compelling, and extremely brief. I won't summarize it because I think you should just read it. Surprised I hadn't heard of it before, especially since there's apparently a Guillermo Del Toro film adaptation of it? Also surprisingly difficult to track down the text. There are a few incomplete versions of it floating around but if you want the full story, I found it as part of this anthology on archive.org.

"The Thing in the Weeds" - William Hope Hodgson - 1913: - Before this, my only exposure to Hodgson had been "The House on the Borderland" (great story by the way), and reading the "The Thing in the Weeds" has me thinking I should dig a bit deeper into his bibliography. Conveys a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety that feels like classic "Weird Tales" fare while dealing with much lower stakes than unnameable cosmic beings. Maybe more horror stories should be set on the open sea...

"Cyclops" - Fritz Leiber - 1965: This is not a story, this is Leiber's idea for a cool vacuum-dwelling space creature dressed up as a story. Dialogue feels totally unnatural, characters are blank slates, tension is set at zero. But the creature is pretty darn cool and the story is very short. So if you want to just read about a neat alien, go ahead!

"The Howling Man" - Charles Beaumont - 1959: I had already seen the Twilight Zone adaptation of this story a while back so I knew the outline of the plot already, but that in no way diminished my joy in reading this. Beaumont's prose is highly engaging and contains a surprising amount of humor that I don't remember being present in the television version. The only real weak point is the ending. I think a bit more ambiguity over whether and to what the extent the Howling Man and the Abbott were lying to the protagonist would've demanded more introspection from the reader. The idea that releasing the Howling Man / Satan is the direct cause of WWII feels a little too simplistic and also depends on this weird assertion that the early Weimar Republic was experiencing an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity that I'm pretty sure doesn't hold up to historical scrutiny. Still highly recommend, a very fun read!

"The Open Window" - Saki / H. H. Munro - 1914: Less a horror story and more a... silly story? I don't know how to describe it other than it feels like the kind of thing you would have to read and analyze for a single high-school English period. Didn't really do anything for me but it's like a 5-minute read so check it out if you want. Does make me wish I could go on one of those "retreats to the countryside for my nerves" that turn-of-the-century English gentleman and ladies are always going on.

"In the Abyss" - H.G. Wells - 1896: A much better Wells story! And I was lucky enough to find this in the other print Wells anthology I own. (I have an addiction to bringing home old paperbacks I don't need but it's a cheap addiction and I don't have the heart to break it. Plus they're all on shelves and alphabetized so my wife can't get mad at me. Anyway, it's the shelves and shelf space that gets expensive...) It can be a little bit "gadget fiction-y" in its description of the submersible but overall it's well-paced with some good tension and a truly weird exploration of an underwater world. Recommend if you're looking for something outright odd or you like specifically underwater sci-fi. Don't recommend if you don't like thinking about the ways you might die in a submersible.

"The Stone Ship" - William Hope Hodgson - 1914: An interesting and definitely weird story, again about strange happenings on the open sea. Stretches the premise a bit too much, both in the actual length of the story and in my willingness to suspend my disbelief of the "scientific" explanation given at the end. I enjoyed it, but for a spookier and shorter take on a similar premise I'd recommend Lovecraft's "Dagon."

Anyway, thank you again @siryl for your recommendations, I had a blast reading through them!

[finniestoncrane]

Number One Fan

Young Justice!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1.2k commission: little ex-popstarlet eddie has a horrible time when his current partner finds his stash of memorabilia 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, fluff

On your hands and knees, you shuffled over the floor, searching for the fallen box of screws and praying they hadn’t all spilled everywhere. You were in such a rush to find them and get them back to Eddie that you’d fumbled and dropped them, your attempt to get back beside him as quickly as possible foiled by your own clumsiness. Luckily, you could see the bright yellow plastic of the box, the lid pressed on tight. The corner of it peeked out from behind a large cardboard box. In a bid to make it easier for yourself to squeeze under the bed to reach it, you pulled it out, planning on setting it to the side until the marker scrawled on the side drew your attention.

Recording Stuff

Vague enough to intrigue you, but you felt a hint of recognition before you gasped out loud at the memory that suddenly popped into your brain.

“Oh! His popstar things!”

So briefly, Eddie had mentioned that in his past, he had attempted to make his name as a popstar. Though, in true Edward Nygma fashion, he had utilised his brief fame and slight power to enact some typical, on-brand criminal stunts. Singing which lead to riddles which he had hoped would lead to more power and fame. Before he was caught by Batman and served a prison sentence and a broken nose. He’d only offered that much information. Nothing about the kind of music he sang, nothing about his popularity, or any fans. Nothing, even, about whether he was any good. You’d been desperate to know at the time, pestering him until it was very apparent that he was uncomfortable, at which point you’d let up, forgetting about it over time.

But now, the deep desire to find out more had been rekindled. Staring you in the face, screaming at you to ask for more, to find out everything. Eddie didn’t really keep any secrets from you, you knew everything about him, except for this. So, you opened the box.

Inside, there were countless CD cases, all of them with handwritten notes on them.

Audition Tape One

Audition Tape Two

Dance Practice

Choreography For Audition

First Concert

Band Practice

Album Recording Session

And so much more, all of them more intriguing than the last one you flicked over. Mixed in with them were folded posters, ones with glossy and heavily photoshopped images of him, with less sideburns, more hair, and his glasses were a lot simpler. No shade of green in sight, which you giggled at. You wondered if that was something he adopted after, or if the record label had decided it wasn’t quite a marketable colour scheme at the time.

You picked out some smaller, A5 card sheets with his picture and signature on them, all handwritten with markers. Obviously for sale at the end of a set or a concert. There were quite a few of them, likely unsold. It hurt your heart to see the memories like this, to know it hadn’t worked out the way he wanted. You held one of them close to your heart, kissing his sweet little face in the centre of the card. It felt like you were a teenager again, fawning over some ridiculous popstar.

Unable to contain the curiosity, you picked one of the CDs at random, popping it into the PC at the end of the bed. When the media player had finally opened, you were provided a sweet, visual treat. Thinking it would just be recordings of his songs, instead you were watching footage of Eddie, so young, standing in front of the camera and awkwardly speaking. He mumbled something about dance practice, and then began to move. He was stiff, uncomfortable. But there was evidence of some talent there. He just needed to loosen up a bit. You wanted to reach into the screen and grab him, shake him, kiss him. Fill him with the confidence he so badly needed.

When the rehearsal had finished playing, you put in another CD. You couldn’t help yourself. This was like a treasure trove, and you needed to see everything that was on each disc. And this one was even better than the last, as you could see Eddie, nervously shuffling in front of the camera, his hands in a white knuckle grip around the microphone as he sang shakily. His voice was so sweet, but the trembling made him shift tone and pitch inconsistently. It was too much to watch him in so much discomfort, despite how much you enjoyed hearing his sweet singing, so you changed the disc again.

This time, Eddie was sitting in front of the camera in a different room. He spoke sincerely to it, making a promise to himself, to everyone.

“I’m going to be famous. I’m going to be huge. I can get over the nerves, I can show everyone how good I am. I’m going to be known all over the world someday.”

The sentiments were repeated in differing words as he continued, and you could feel the sting of tears behind your eyes. He was so heartfelt, so desperate. And you felt simultaneously hopeful and helpless. You could see how much that sweet, young Eddie wanted this dream. But you knew exactly how it ended for him.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you turned from the screen, wiping your face on your sleeves and returning to the box. Surprised you hadn’t noticed it first, your eyes fell on a clear case covered in glittery stickers, all shaped like question marks and stars, a couple of love hearts in the corner. Within it you could see a golden coloured disc. Turning it over, you found the track listings scribbled on the back, a small sticky note inside of the case which you couldn’t quite read until you opened it. Popping the disc in, you read the note as it loaded.

“For my future wife. I want you to know who I am, completely. These songs were for you, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

He was such a hopeless romantic. You sighed as you held it close to your chest. He’d likely forgotten that he’d even written the note, but you hoped if he remembered that he’d give the disc to you.

And when the music started playing, you couldn’t help but lose yourself completely. Enamoured by his sweet voice, the way he carried the melody so professionally and with such heart. It was impossible not to love. Your body started shifting on the spot, wiggling to the rhythm as you sat amongst his things, looking through more of the posters. You forgot what you had even come in there for. Instead, you were surrounded by Eddie, filled with more admiration and love for him than you thought was even possible.

The tunes were so catchy, so fun. It was a completely new side to him, exciting to discover. Because you loved Eddie, you adored him and appreciated him. But now, it was safe to say you were his number one fan. So there you sat, completely immune to the outside world. Focused only on the sweet songs and the way they made you want to dance, made you giggle, singing along to each of the choruses.

Worried at the length of time you had been gone for, only noticing when he was finally not distracted by his project, Eddie got up from the stool at his workbench and went in search of you. Leaving the soundproofed space in the basement, he could hear some music. A familiar tune that he couldn’t quite place. Until it hit him. Like a brick wall slamming into his body. He felt winded, like he might collapse any moment. That was his music, blaring throughout the house. Following the sound, he made his way to his bedroom, where he had forgotten that the discs were stored until this moment.

Edward stood in the doorway, his cheeks instantly bright red and flushed with embarrassment. Luckily, you hadn’t noticed him yet, still completely entranced by the music that you had blaring from his PC. In an unusual move of bravery, he stomped into the room and paused the track that was playing, surprising you, causing you to jump where you sat on the floor, surrounded by the memorabilia.

“Eddie!”

“How could you?”

You could see the look of pain in his face, how mortified and betrayed he felt in that moment. It made your blood run cold. Scrambling to apologise, you attempted to speak, but only stuttered over the first words, interrupted by Eddie as he spoke.

“I’m so… hurt. Why would you do this? I wasn’t ready! I wasn’t… I didn’t want to share this yet! I didn’t want to think about it! It hurts… it still hurts a lot, too much to…”

Finally able to squeeze out something more than a mewling mumble, you stood up, rushing to him and grabbing his hand to keep him close, long enough to listen to your apology. With similarly reddened cheeks and eyes that were wet with the threat of tears, you began to apologise profusely to him.

“Eddie, I am so sorry. I really am! I got… distracted. I was looking for the screws, they fell under the bed, I found the box and I just… couldn’t help myself. And I know I shouldn’t have looked, I do. It was a complete betrayal of your trust. I know that. But… but…”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, his own eyes sparkling with tears that he tried to force back down as he cleared his throat.

“But what?”

“Eddie… you’re so good. This is amazing! I feel giddy, like some pre-teen girl finding a new boy to obsess over. I want to plaster these silly little photos all over my walls. I love you, so much. And this has just… this is the icing on the cake, truly.

“R-really?”

Taking his face in your hands, you let your thumb stroke his cheeks, softening his sideburns and pushing his hair back with your fingers as you looked deep into his eyes, desperately trying to convey the sincerity and honesty with which you were speaking.

“Eddie, my sweet Eddie. Those people might not have seen it in you, the talent and love for it. They might not have appreciated you. But I do. I think you’re a star. You’re my popstar, my celebrity crush.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing a deeper red. He was struggling with the revelation of his past. Sooner than he had intended to reveal it all to you. And he had planned to tell you everything someday. But it was still raw, still painful for him to think about. Yet there was a deeper feeling, one of joy. Happiness. At finally being appreciated. That there was at least one person in the world who liked his work, and who loved him all the more for his past. But you had broken his confidence, and that hurt him more than he imagined it would. Tears stung at his eyes as he frowned at you.

Tearing up yourself, you looked to the doorway. You hadn’t seen Eddie this upset before, and it was painful to witness. As the first of your tears fell, you turned, making your escape from the bedroom to go take some time alone, to work on your apology. But Eddie was quick to grab you, pulling you back and into his arms.

“It’s ok. I… I forgive you. It’s just a lot for me to take in.”

“Eddie, I swear I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.”

He let one hand drift from your body, pressing play on the media player, letting the soft music start up again and fill the room. With both of his hands back on your body, he held you to his chest and softly swayed. It hurt, still. But he was glad to finally have someone to share his music with.

[thesmokingguns]

Easy Love

Nikki was writing his book, locking himself up for too many hours in the office in Wyoming and you were bored of him being away from you for so long. He had started to get frustrated with the way you'd open the office door, sighing heavily until he paid attention to you and started retreating to the cabin on the property. It was the only place that he felt that he could get work done without your dramatic 1940’s Hollywood starlet sighs.

He had thought he was safe there because you were afraid of crossing the high grass because you were sure there would be a snake there. Or that you would get covered in ticks after one incident where NIkki had found one on your leggings after you two had gone for a walk together. The way you had screamed, taking a shower that he was sure was the same temperature the devil took in the depths of hell so you would feel clean. Scrubbing yourself until your skin was raw and bright red from your reaction to it.

But two hours into his stay, a good grove in his writing process, he heard the creak of the door and there you were, bating your eyelashes as you walked into his space and sat right where he had been looking at his notes, handwritten on a yellow legal pad that your ass was now covering without any concern or care that he was doing something that was important. He should have known that there was absolutely no chance in hell that you would let him escape you.

You reached out, pulling the headphones that had been blaring music so loudly that he couldn’t hear any of the chaos that was going on in the outside world off and gave him a smirk.

"I'm bored." A full house of things for you to do and yet you wander into the middle of nowhere for him. He should have taken that as a sign of how much you loved him but he was grinding his teeth, annoyed.

A different man would have grown frustrated, sent you away since he had to work but Nikki found it charming that you liked to be around him so much. He liked that you came and wanted his attention and affection. It made him feel wanted and loved by you. Even if you were a bit clingy and needy, he wanted you to feel like you could always come to him.

Your fingers reached out, massaging his head as he sighed, slipping his hands onto your knees as you sat on the table and gave his head a massage. This took out any of the need to work as he focused on you now. The way you were being so gentle, working out the headache that he hadn’t realized he had been developing as you rubbed the pad of your thumbs into his temples. Nikki was like a dog, he needed a good head rub every once and a while to remind him that he was a good boy.

"You know, I am trying to focus...but I can't deny that it does feel good. Keep going, please." You smirked as you slid off his bandana, settling it across your lap. Fingers driving into the dyed black hair and loving the deep moans of appreciation that he let out at the way your fingers seemed to be able to work out all the tension.

Writing the book was stressing him out, even though he was saying what a cathartic process that it was he was also feeling the weight of his life again. Realizing what he had done and regrets came flooding back as he wished he could have a second chance at some things. Even though his life now was everything that he wanted and he was thankful for it there were moments where he wanted to see his younger self and let them know it would be this good. To keep fighting through it so in the end that it could get better.

"Feel good?" you spoke softly, letting him make his groans and the nod he made had you smiling, "Feeling less stressed?" he nodded again and you smiled at his reaction, "We need to stay in the cabin tonight, I set the kitchen on fire."

"WHAT!" he was sitting up, your hands coming out of his hair as you looked at him, shocked at the fury he had on his face, "YOU SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE?"

"No, Nikki. A towel caught fire when I was cooking. The towel set the kitchen on fire, not the whole house. Jesus, don't overreact." It was at that moment he looked at your arm, a bandage on it that he hadn't seen before.

His heart was in his throat, you could have been hurt. The fear of losing you had splashed across his face and you realized that he had never thought that he could lose you before. He didn’t know what to do with this new fear and was choking on it as he looked at you with this terror that made you worried.

Gripping each side of his face you let him hold your wrists, kissing him softly before leaning your forehead against him. He needed to be loved so badly and be shown that you were okay. Nikki, always so in control, sometimes needed to give up his reins and be reminded that you loved and would take care of him just as he did for you.

"You're okay?" he was scared, it was so evident in his voice. The way he couldn't speak loud, just the whisper he let out to heave you confirm to him that it was going to be okay.

You slid off the desk, pushing your knees up so that you were on his law, letting him feel the weight of you, the realness of you. Letting him see that you were there with him and had all your arms and legs. He needed to know that you weren’t going to leave him.

"Yes, Nikki. I'm okay.” his arms wrapped around you, the hug too tight as he clung to you with thick arms. His breathing was slightly erratic and you didn’t say anything, just held him back as you felt teh way your shirt dampened as he let out a few tears.

The information you had dropped on him had scared him in a new way, unlocked a new nightmare that he would have that night. Searching for you in the dark to show himself it was just a horrible awful dream. But the idea that you had gotten hurt and could have- He was chastising himself, thinking about how he should have just stayed writing in the house. The interruptions were worth it to make sure that you were okay.

“You know, angel. If you wanted to redo the kitchen you could have just asked instead of causing fire damage.” you smirked, glad he was trying to calm himself down now.

“Don’t you know by now, NIk? I never make anything easy.” But that wasn't true; to Nikki, loving you was the easiest thing in the world.

[thatitbrunette]

School is about to start and each girl has to choose her role model

Choose yours!

-Elle woods

🌸 Cute pink stationary and pink Pom Pom pens

🌸 taking hours to get ready in the morning while listening to music

🌸 pushing yourself to be the best of the best and to probe other people wrong

🌸 being kind and humble to everyone and help other people

🌸 always taking notes and paying attention to class and answering every question while being present

🌸 not being scared to be different from others

🌸 taking breaks and going to the salon and not pressure yourself

I don’t need backups, I’m going to Harvard

-Blair Waldorf

🌸 Messy handwritten notes

🌸 polished look and being always put together

🌸 determination, discipline and hardwork

🌸 studying to prove others wrong

🌸 early morning classes & coffee

🌸 Not accepting anything less than perfect and always chasing more

🌸 not stopping for anything or anyone until you get what you want

I know what I want and I’m gonna get it

-hermoine granger

🌸 tons of messy notes scattered around your desk

🌸 always coming to school early and before everyone else

🌸 read about other topics outside of school subject and always learn more information

🌸 speak up in class and always pay attention

🌸 coffee shop studying dates with your friends

🌸 always being the most well educated one in your class

🌸 Studying late at night in the library for your upcoming tests with tons of coffee

Honestly, don’t you two read?

-Rory gilmore

🌸 Doing your homework Friday night

🌸 reading on the way to school, reading during breaks, reading everywhere!

🌸 not being afraid of being alone and embracing it

🌸 homework,homework and some more homework

🌸 studying late at night until you sleep on the dining table

🌸 putting school before everything else

🌸 having goals set and chasing them

Who cares if I’m pretty if I fail my finals?!

-Paris geller

🌸 Participating in school events

🌸 being driven and successful and very hardworking

🌸 studying all the time and always being the group leader in every group project

🌸 not letting outside circumstances effect your studies

🌸 perfectly written notes and organized stationary

🌸 be smarter, not nicer

🌸 not tolerating anything less than perfect

What are you gonna do without a college degree? Drive a forklift?

-Cher Horowitz

🌸 Stop chasing boys and starting chasing your grades

🌸 never be afraid of dressing up to school

🌸 always participate in class and be present

🌸 help others and help yourself

🌸 studying in your room while dressing up

🌸 try new things, meet new people, have fun in school!

🌸 try balancing between having fun and studying during your highschool years

I had an overwhelming sense of ickyness!

[moralesispunk]

Kinktober Day Nine - Stripping // Agent Whiskey 

Kinktober Masterlist / @the-purity-pen

Warnings: female reader, alcohol, daddy kink (this is Whiskey after all), stripping, mention of wearing fancy underwear but no description of body, unprotected sex, ass slapping (again, this is Whiskey)

Word Count: 2.4

A/n: I just wanna say I struggled with this one it is definitely not my best work but there was only one man this prompt could be

It had been three weeks since you had last seen Jack; three long weeks where you only got to hear from his own voice that he was alive and well via two short phone calls from burner phones.

It was the longest time you had spent apart since moving in together and Jack had known before leaving that it would be hard for you, especially since you never really liked nights you spent alone in the apartment as it was nevermind three weeks worth of them. You think that is why he had spent so much time and effort to do something he knew would put a smile on your face while he was gone.

From the first morning you woke up alone in the king sized bed you had found notes in his recognisable messy handwriting around the apartment; little yellow post-it stickers that had been hidden around the apartment for you to stumble across. There had been notes stuck to the top of containers in the fridge filled with dinners he had made before leaving; yellow squares tucked in the edge of mirrors to remind you how beautiful you were; one that was still firmly in its place on the back of the front door telling you to have a wonderful day.

You had found dozens in the past three weeks though they had slowly tapered off until you had found none in the past few days. It didn’t upset you too much since he was coming home today and having him in your arms was so much better than any handwritten note could be; that still didn’t mean you hadn’t been any less excited when you stumbled across one you hadn’t seen before.

It was tucked into a box in the wardrobe you didn’t recognise, the box being pulled onto your lap as you read the six letters printed in his messy scribbles:

A present for me and you

When you opened the box you immediately rolled your eyes at the sticker you recognised, one from a lingerie shop you know Jack liked you buying from. Your finger tucked under the sticker and peeled it from the pink tissue paper, unwrapping it until the black lace set that had been gently placed in the middle was visible. There was a deep plunging bra with a matching thong and garters. You shook your head as you lifted them from the box, turning the thin material over in your hand as you wondered when Jack had bought this since he had been stuck to your side ever since hearing about his work trip that would take him away for three weeks. He was an agent after all and it wouldn’t take much effort to sneak this box into your wardrobe while you were still here.

The rest of the day was spent with you quickly finishing up cleaning the apartment before you took your time getting ready for him coming home. It wasn’t that Jack preferred you dress up for him, he was just as desperate for you whether you were dressed up for one of the Statesmen Galas or coming home from the gym, but you enjoyed taking the time today knowing you would finally get to touch him after so long apart.

After a shower and in the middle of moisturizing your body your phone chimed with a text from Jack, a few quick words to tell you he would be home in an hour and couldn’t wait to have you back in his arms. Butterflies swarmed your stomach for the rest of the hour as you finished getting ready, slipping into the underwear and finding stockings to match before tying a robe over it, and exactly sixty minutes later you were sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine when the front door opened.

All plans of trying to be sexy, for him to find you leaning against the doorway and drawing him closer to you with a beckoning finger as the music you had carefully picked played in the background, was thrown out the window when his voice echoed through the open plan apartment.

“Darlin’?”

You sprung to your feet, rushing around the corner to find Jack dropping his bag to the floor and placing his hat on the hat rack by the door as he opened his arms wide. You ran into him, his hands cupping the back of your thighs and lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as your mouth crashed to his with an excited squeal.

He laughed against your mouth, his strong arms holding you tight to him as he walked you both to the living room and brought you down onto his lap as he sat down.

“Missed you so much, baby,” he mumbled into your mouth, his clean-shaven jaw under your hands as you held him close and his mustache tickling your upper lip. “Don’t ever want to leave you for that long again.”

“Me either,” you sighed, dropping your face to his neck as his hand ran up and down your back before holding you close with a steady hand on the back of your neck. 

You stayed like that for a moment before Jack’s hand slid around to the front of your neck, taking your chin in his hold as he pulled you back to look into his eyes.

“And what’s all this then?” He raised a playful eyebrow up at you, his chin nodding towards where your robe began to come loose and give him a peek of the lace.

“Oh.” Your whole body warmed from a shyness that creeped up the back of your neck, Jack’s thumb rubbing across your jaw as he smiled at you.

“Were you going to put a show on for me?” You nodded at his words, twirling the bottom of his t-shirt in your hands. “I think I want to see the show you had planned for me, sugar.” You twist your lips, forcing yourself to stand on slightly shaking legs as Jack settles back against the sofa with his legs spread wide and one hand resting on his thigh as the other arm stretched to the back of the sofa. “Go on, baby. You look so pretty like this it would be a shame to skip right past the show.”

His words fill you with more confidence and he nods at you once, your feet carrying you two steps back as you take the tie of the robe in your hands. The thin fabric slowly slipped from around your waist and Jack's eyes dropped from your gaze to the V of skin that was freed bit by bit. His hips lifted from the leather sofa and while his whole body appeared relaxed, with his arm leaning on the back of the couch and his torso buried against the thick cushions, you could tell from his hand gripped in a tight fist on his lap that he was struggling not to take control. 

The fabric hits the ground with a soft thud as you slip the robe off your shoulders slowly, Jack’s eyes widening before he clears his dry throat.

You know exactly what he is looking at; it’s the same sight you had stared at in the mirror only ten minute ago that filled you with the initial confidence to wait for him like this. The bra cups your tits perfectly and the lace sits comfortably against your hips, framing every dip and curve, while the stockings run up to the middle of your thighs.

“What do you think, Daddy?” Your head tilts with a shy smile and his face immediately breaks out into a grin.

“Oh Daddy loves it, baby.”

His deep southern drawl has your thighs clenching together and you have to give yourself a shake to stay in control, taking a step forward and running your hands up your body as you cup your breasts and push them up ever so slightly. Jack’s smile slowly fades and his jaw tenses, your hips swaying to the music.

“Did you buy these for any reason?” Your hands slide back down your hips and your fingers twirl the lace that rests against your hip to pull the material tighter across the front of your pussy in a way that has Jack’s throat bobbing. “Maybe because they leave very little to the imagination?”

The music continues to fill the room as you spin slowly in front of Jack, the sides of your thighs brushing his knees and your eyes staying focused on his as you look over your shoulder and begin to bend over.

Jack’s hands flex before clenching back into fists on his lap, trying his hardest not to reach out and run his hands up the back of your soft thighs that he has thought about every single day for weeks. When you turn completely around you take a deep breath, knowing that this is exactly what Jack wants to see and there is no need to be nervous as your fingers unclasp the stockings on both sides before you bend over slowly.

Jack’s choked gasp has you biting back a smile, the crotchless panties now perfectly in his line of sight as you slowly roll the nylon down your legs before slipping them off each leg and standing back straight. He had completely forgotten that part of the panties he had bought for you himself and could barely catch a breath as you spun back around and smiled a temptive smile down at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You are… perfect, darlin’,” he sighs and you reach for his hands, sliding your fingers into his fists and releasing the tension.

His back immediately straightens as he sits up from the couch to look up at you, one touch from you pulling him closer to your warmth as you place his palms against your hips.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, nodding once before his hands begin to roam around your body.

He squeezes every inch of soft skin he can; running his hands up and down your thighs, pinching your nipples over your bra; reaching back and gripping your ass hard and pulling him closer to him as he pressed his lips across your tummy. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, and he told you that with his mouth pressed against your skin.

You reach down and take his chin in your hand, tilting his head up to take in his flushed cheeks and blown black eyes, and you keep him there as you reach back to unclasp your bra. His eyes flick between your breasts as you release them from the bra, sliding the material down your arms and throwing it to the side before pushing him back against the sofa and straddling his lap.

His hands continue to roam your body while you kiss down his neck and chest, your hands working to unbuckle his hip-flask belt as you slide off the sofa and pull his jeans and boxers down. His cock springs free, painfully hard and leaking against his white t-shirt that you only had to tug on once before Jack understood and ripped it up and over his head. 

You stood before him again, looking over every inch of his body that you had missed lying beside you in bed every night from his strong chest and arms to his soft tummy and his impressive length that his hand had mindlessly wrapped around as he began to stroke it, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip as you smacked his hand away and sat on his lap once more.

His hands gripped your hips tight as you rocked your wet folds over his cock, a deep groan leaving his throat as you lifted your hips and guided his cock slowly inside. It had only been three weeks since he had last been inside you but there was a sting of pain as he stretched you wider with every inch you took.

“I have missed you, baby. Missed this pretty body in my hands.” 

You moan at his words, lifting your hips until only the head of his cock is still inside before rocking back down as you take every inch and he stretches you around him. Your knees dig into the leather as you lift your hips up and down, moaning loudly every time he fills you completely.

“Faster, baby,” Jack pants and you listen, your hands sliding down from his shoulders and onto his chest as you ride his cock faster. “Just like that. Thought about you doing this every day I was gone with my hand wrapped around my cock. It could never feel as good as your pretty pussy, though.”

“Fuck.” You throw your head back, letting Jack’s hands guide every roll of your hips down onto him.

“Thought about you coming around me, squeezing me tight.” He slides one hand around from your hip, slipping it between your bodies and rubbing his thumb against your clit. “Need you to do that for me now, baby. Daddy’s close but needs you to come first.”

His words along with the perfect pressure he places against your clit tips you over the edge, your whole body shuddering as the waves of pleasure rock through you again and again, his touch not leaving yours as you try to squirm away and instead he pulls you closer.

“Oh baby, that’s it. That’s my girl,” he pants. “Keep going, just feel how good it is.”

“S-so good,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest.

His head is thrown back as he stares up at you with half-closed eyes and you ride him hard through your orgasm; his hand moving between gripping your ass and slapping his palm against it. 

“Gonna let me fill you now?”

You whine out a beg, the feeling of you still contracting around him pulling you over the edge with you as he growls your name and fills you. You can feel his cock pulse inside you, his mouth seeking yours and his hands sliding up your back to hold you closer as he fills you until it begins to spill out down your thighs and his head collapses to your chest.

Raking your nails through his hair you smile at his contented hum, his lips pressing over your heart as your heart rate starts to slow down.

“How was the show?” You tease.

[sf9official]

03-21-2023 jaeyoon fancafe post

"To Fantasy"

"Hi Fantasy~!!! It's Jaeyoon~!!! Fantasy should be reading this letter by now right? I've been wanting to write you a handwritten letter like some day. As I am writing this letter, I'll be enlisting tomorrow & I could feel that the time really flies so fast!! Eversince corona started, I played around with Fantasy through a series, took the role as Matt through Patt & Matt, started doing musicals, took up the challenge in theatre plays, met Fantasy again through concert, went abroad & lots of things happened as well. As the hyungs spots were empty for awhile I dont think there was a time during that 1 year that I felt so much responsibilities to uphold, it was quite pressuring & I was nervous too. The same goes to the members where we thought a lot about how to make Fantasy feel less empty as it was our first time to go through this too. But I felt relieved seeing Fantasy were spending great time having beautiful memories with our members. Thank you so much for giving me endless love & unreserved support! I'll be leaving the spot empty for awhile but our members will protect you by your side through that period of 1 year 6 months! Although my handwriting is quite bad but please read it with an open heartㅎㅎㅎ Later when the time come for me to return back to Fantasy again, I'll be back as a more matured & strong-willed person! In the meantime, I hope our Fantasy will take a good care of your health, eat well, sleep well & do your best in your daily lives too! I'll make sure to come whenever I have the opportunity to tell you any news! Fantasy, I hope what I feel can be conveyed even for a little & become a strength for you. Our moment of rest for awhile is for the eternity to come in the future so dont be too sad! Lastly, thank you so much for showering the lacking me with lots of love & I am so happy. I love you even more Fantasy. I LOVE U❤️”

translation credit

[l3m0ncyan]

New at Life | Chapter 8

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x latina!teen!reader

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Note: I hope yall can read Spanish lol

Warning: Angst, grief, death (gasp)

———————————————

The drive to the desert was quiet aside from the music playing that was low. Since they were in Egypt, most of the music that was being played was in Arabic. Layla and Marc were able to understand what each song was saying but Y/N was in the dark. However the beat to them were catchy and she would find herself bop her head.

Looking outside the window, Y/N saw how the buildings were the only things that lit up the night. As they kept driving though, she could see that less and less buildings were appearing. Meaning that they were headed the right way to get to the desert.

She looked over to Layla and Marc who were talking to each other. Marc was looking at his jacket which had holes, “This was my favorite jacket too”. Saddened he threw it to the back and then took off his shirt which was also ruined. Discarding the shirt to the back too, he reached over to a duffel bag that was next to Y/N.

Y/N stared at him envious, he was able to change out of his sweaty clothes while she had to stick with hers.

“Lucky” she looked at him unimpressed.

He looked at her and smiled cockily, “You should have brought your own clothes”

“I didn’t know we’d be staying overnight at the desert”

“Technically, we have been staying overnight at the desert. You know, Egypt is all-“

“You know what, I’m glad your favorite jacket got ruined”

Marc gave a small laugh and looked back to the road, “If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, they should fit”.

Y/N looked at the duffel bag and then back to Marc. With out much thought, she grabbed the bag.

She looked through it and found a military green tshirt plus a brown jacket. Since it was getting a bit cold, she decided to take it.

“Alright y’all don’t look!” She yelled out causing Marc to close his eyes and place an arm on top of his eyes.

Taking her chance, she took off her top and tossed it to the trunk. She pulled the shirt over head and pulled it down. She noticed how it was a bit/quite oversized, but she liked it since she was now comfortable. The jacket she put on and it was actually warm.

After wearing it she noticed that the shirt was a bit itchy and rough. “Yo Marc, do you wash your clothes?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Cause it doesn’t feel like it. Do you even use softener?”

“Alright if your gonna be judging, how about you put back on your sweaty shirt?”

“Just kidding. It’s nice. Yup” she quickly said and smiled to convince him.

Layla gave a small laugh, “He doesn’t, I used to fold his clothes and they were hard as rock”. Marc looked at her offendedly.

“It’s true” she laughed.

Y/N saw how the two looked into each other’s eyes and noticed how much love they held for the other. She smiled but then remembered about how Marc was staying away from Layla for a while. Then wondered why did the two even decide to marry. Actually how did Layla fall for him?

“Uhm, so like, I might be getting a little to personal but like…how did you two meet?”

The two paused, looking at each other. Marc looked at her and then down, disappointed not at her but at himself. Layla looked at him with a sympathetic smile and squeezed his hand. Y/N noticed that Marc didn’t pull away. At first she thought that she might have have made things awkward but she might have actually made things better.

“We met at a bar” Layla said after a long pause.

Y/N fixed her posture and listened closely.

“I was working on archeological business which shall not be named” she smiled at the rear mirror, “when suddenly I get a drink, told that a man bought it for me”

“I look across from the room and I see this awkward and mysterious man staring back,”

“Awkward?” Marc smiles.

“Yes awkward, you looked like a boy from grade school who was waiting for his crush to read his handwritten letter”

Y/N laughs, “Wait really?”

“Yup, but he gets the courage and walks over to me. Tells me about how I caught his eye, can you believe it? Out of all the women there”

“How couldn’t I?” Marc looks at Laylas hand, hesitating but yet still holding it, “You’re the most interesting and smart woman I’ve met”.

Layla smiles and squeezes Marc’s hand in return.

“After that, we talked more, went on a few dates and got together. A couple of years after, he asks to marry me”

Y/N looks at them and smiles with delight on their love story. Especially since she didn’t know Marc was a romantic. She then notices that Layla frowns and slowly lets go of Marc.

“But a few years after we marry, he leaves without a trace, without letting me know” Marc looks at her apologetically. “Layla, I’m sorry-“

“Let’s just stay focused on the mission”

Layla focuses on the road and ignores Marc’s eyes that are filled with pity and guilt. The trip becomes quiet and awkward. Y/N looks at both of them but before she can say anything her phone goes off.

Scrambling to get her phone from her pocket, she looks at the caller ID. ‘Madre’ it reads, she looks at Layla and Marc apologetically, “Hey sorry, uh I gotta take it, it’s my mom”

The two nod and look to the road as a gesture of privacy.

Y/N breathes in and looks at the green button. Why was her mother calling at this time? Gathering enough courage, she answers and raises the phone to her ear.

“Bueno?”

“Honde estás?” Her mother answers with a stern voice. Y/N feels like her heart skipped a beat but continues to try to keep the facade.

“En Londres? Donde mas?”

“Crees que soy pendeja?”

Y/N feel her breathe stop. Her mother was angry and even thought she was very far away from her, she felt like she would come through the phone and slap her.

“N-No”

Marc and Layla notice the sudden change in Y/N but continue to listen.

“Di porque tu prima me mando un video donde estas en Egipto, peleando con un grupo de señores con…poderes”

Y/N stays quiet, “Cual video?”

“Ay! Eres mensa o que?!” Jumping at her mothers raised voice, she sees that she is sent a link to a video. Following it, she is shown from shaky camera work from earlier where they went to Mogart and fought the many groups of bodyguards. In the video, it showed how Y/N uses her powers to beat them and knock them unconscious. Without context, it probably looks like Y/N has been hanging out with the wrong group.

The thing that she wondered was who recorded it and how did it get big so fast?

“Lo viste?!”

Forgetting that she was still on a call with her mother, scrambled to put her phone back to her ear.

“Si, si….” Y/N repeated not in an annoyed way but in a scared one.

“Explícame esto!”

Y/N tried to think of an excuse but how would one explain to their mother that she got powers and is now trying to save the world from an evil cult. The easiest one would be to say she was now part of the mafia.

“Es que…no me vas a creer” she rubbed the back of her neck. In the corner of her eye she saw Marc staring at her and gesturing to her if she was alright. She gave a quick smile and nodded. However Marc didn’t really believe that.

It was quiet on the other line and Y/N felt the air become more dense. Suddenly she heard quiet sobs and sniffles. Hearing her mom cry her hurt her heart, “Mami, por favor no llores”

“No me digas que no llore! Yo pensé que ibas a ser diferente que tus hermanas pero al mejor eres peor!”

“…Que estás queriendo decir?”

“Nos fallaste y incluso trajiste vergüenza a nuestra familia. Todos tus tíos nos están tomando por tontos! Teníamos muchas esperanzas para ti!”

Y/N felt her heart and all blood cells stop simultaneously. She feels her throat tighten, “No- no quieres decir eso…”.

“Me has decepcionado mucho a mí y a tu padre. Cómo pudiste hacerlo después de todo lo que hemos hecho? Quiero que vuelvas a casa a este momento”

The call ends and Y/N is just met with the beeping of the phone. She just stares straight down, still in shock.

All of her hard work and nights of studying, gone down the drain. All of her energy trying to make her parents the least bit happy went to waste.

Y/N felt tears trying to escape, even though she tried her hardest in keeping them in, a few fell. Her lips quiver, she feels so weak with crying in the backseat of a car.

“…You alright?” Marc turns his head slightly to her. She immediately wipes her eyes with the sleeve of the jacket she put on, “Y-yeah I’m fine”.

Layla looks at her with a frown through the rear view mirror. Being a traveling archeologist, she learned a few languages, Spanish being one. So from the recent conversation that the teen just had, she had an idea of what it was about. Layla stared at the road ahead trying to think of how to make Y/N feel more cheerful. She looked down to the radio and then to the reflection of Y/N.

“Is there any music you like?” Y/N looked confused at the question.

“Uhh, not really, well I'm fine with anything, " she said quietly.

Lyla nodded and turned the small wheel for the radio, trying to find a good station. A mix of sound came from the speakers; static, milliseconds of songs that were playing, and ads.

"Oh, I remember this song!" Layla stopped at one station.

She looked at the rearview mirror to check on Y/N, her eyes were tinted red but she seemed calmer. She was looking at the radio and got closer to the front of the truck. Using the front seats as an aide, she pulled herself in between Layla and Marc.

"Wait, I know this song too, my sisters would play it all the time back then" she gave a small smile.

Layla turned the volume up causing the speakers to blare I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys. Y/N bumped her head to the beat while Marc just stared off into the distance. Layla however started to sing and soon after so did Y/N.

Layla sung with emotion and Y/N acted as if she was in a music video.

“But we are two worlds apart,” Layla put a hand on her chest, dramatically.

“Cant reach to your heart” Y/N closed her eyes and put hands close to her chest, gesturing her heart.

The two then bursted into the main verse, singing their hearts out. Taking turns in who would say “Tell me why” while the other song the other line.

Marc just chuckled and shook his head. Y/N elbowed him.

“Come on join us!” She looked up to him.

“Rather not”

“Please!”

“I don’t even know the song”

Layla then jumped into the side conversation, “Oh of course you do! You sung it to me when you were tipsy”

Marc stared at her and back to Y/N, sighing he gave in.

“Am I your fire?” He said quietly.

Layla and Y/N beamed, soon enough the three were now singing. Marc was still awkward but through half of the verse, he started to actually sing just like when he was tipsy. One would sing while the other two became background vocals. This cycle would switch around until the trio decided to just sing it together.

The song came to a close, with the three singing the last few words from the top of their lungs.

“I never wanna hear you say! I want it that way!”

As cheesy as it sounds, they had a small laugh after with realizing how they had their own little concert. Specifically in a stolen truck in the middle of the Egyptian desert.

“Jeez, didn’t know you could sing my guy” Y/N shouldered Marc.

“Don’t push it,” he rolled his eyes.

More music continued to play; some Layla and Y/N would sing, Marc would join in a bit, then there was just head bopping.

It was a good change of pace for the three, especially after going through a whole battle. Y/N though was still hurt by what her mother had told her but with the karaoke she felt happier. Probably so happy she was able to fall asleep on the seats. The symphony was now lowered for her with just the soft sounds of the engine.

Layla and Marc made small conversations but in a whisper, careful in not trying to wake up the teen. Marc would then grab a spare jacket that he had inside his bag and lay it over Y/N’s snoring body. He smiled softly but would catch Laylas smirk from the corner of the eye. Then he’d clear his throat and stare straight into road.

“I don’t want her to get a fever” he’d say, avoiding Laylas gaze.

“Marc, we’re in the desert”

“And the desert gets cold”

Marc wouldn’t say it outloud but Layla was right. Y/N had became another person that he cared about. He used to think that she was going to stay away from them the moment she found out about the DID and being an avatar. Surprisingly she didn’t, she wanted to help them. Even with how she almost died from the jackal and from Mogarts guards, she stuck by him. He was grateful, yet he was terrified. They were now at enemies territory, and she was there.

It was like a flashback hit him when he thought this. The cave. The rain. The water. Water coming in. It was rising. And he couldn’t stop it.

What if he can’t stop it for Y/N.

He breathed in and closed his eyes, trying to forget it. He wouldn’t let it happen. Opening his eyes back up, he continued to look towards the sand dunes that we’re coming into view.

——

A couple of hours in, Layla began to yawn but continued to hold onto the wheel. They were now in the desert and were following only the road that was placed.

“I can drive if you want” Marc offered.

Layla shook her head, “No I can still do it,”

“You need to get some sleep in” Marc stared at her.

The two heard shuffling in the back. Marc looked back and saw Y/N squirming and then sitting up. Her eyes were still watery from the slumber and there were marks on her face from the bag she used as a pillow.

“Marc’s right, you should sleep. You don’t know what we might find at the uh…” Y/N tried to think but heard Marc whisper tomb.

“The tomb!” She snapped her fingers.

“Alright” Layla smiled and sighed, pulling over to the side.

She got out and so did Marc. He walked over to the drivers seat and before Layla could get to the passenger side, Y/N won her.

“You don’t want the back seat?” Layla asked her with a smile.

“Nah, plus I feel like you might sleep better there”

Layla nodded and went to the back and laid down. Soon she was deep asleep. Marc continued to drive and Y/N stared out to the sand that flew by.

Marc gripped the wheel trying to think of what to talk about. Thinking about what the two had gone through in the past few days, all the small bits of goodness were drowned out by the fighting. This time it wasn’t just him doing it, he had Y/N helping him. That’s when it clicked.

“How did you get those powers?” Marc looked straight ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the window and looked to the road and then to Marc.

“Uh, it was a day after Steven, or well you guys, went missing” she hesitated, “I was coming back from buying groceries and I see this guy stumbling into an alley. So I go and check on him”

Marc looks over to her with a half-lidded eyes, telling her that what she is about to do is highly stupid.

“I know! I know! It’s dumb of me but I didn’t want this to be in the back of my mind” she raises her hands up.

Marc sighs and nods, cue to continue.

“I get closer and he is like yelling how it hurts and to stay away from him. I tell him I can call an ambulance or something but he says no. Soon after, I freak out and start backing away and the last thing he does is apologize. I swear I see his stomach glow red and then a blast of light throws me across the floor”

Y/N rubs her arm as she continues to remember back to that day.

“My ears are ringing as I open my eyes and I see that he’s gone. But the most obvious thing to me is the warm and cold feeling going through my body,” she hugs herself, “So I practically run back to the apartment and just go to sleep. Skip through you and Steven coming back and the jackal at the museum, to me I guess waking up my powers at Harrows den”

She looks over to Marc who’s wearing a shameful look.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles quietly, “If I were there you wouldn’t have to deal with them”

“Nah it’s fine. Oddly I don’t regret it, I feel badass with them” she leans back into her seat, “Plus I can be like a sidekick for you”

“A sidekick?” Marc raises a brow and Y/N nods her head rapidly. “Guess i got a lame one then” he says jokingly.

Y/N smacks him on his shoulder, “Hey! I’m serious! Imagine us, Bird Man and the Spider! Wait no we already have a hero with Spider in the name”

“Bird Man?” Marc gave a small laugh

“Well yeah, for Khonshu”

“You know Khonshu is a god for the moon and not birds right?”

Y/N widened her eyes, “Oh! Then you can be Moon Boy! No that’s not right…”

She placed a finger on her chin, trying to think up names. Marc would just listen as she spilled multiple at a time. He then saw the way the match ignited in her head.

“Moon Knight!”

Marc shook his head and smiled, “Sure, but I ain’t no hero”

“I mean you have the suit, the powers, and the mysterious background” she crossed her arms, “Anyways what’s mine?”

“Your nickname?”

“Yeah, I helped you with yours”

Marc breathed in and thought for a second, “Didn’t Khonshu call you Maggot? That’s the one”

Y/Ns face crinkled in disgust, “That’s gross!”

He laughed and looked to the night sky and to the road ahead. He thought of her powers and what they were. They looked like insect legs and the glowed red. So how to make a name for that?

“Why not add Crimson to the name?”

Y/N looked everywhere for where the voice came from. Finding Steven on the rear view mirror, she smiled.

“Yo! I can see you!” She pointed at him which he smiled at.

“I can tell. I heard you two talking about hero names and I had to join”

“We are not heroes” Marc intervened but went ignored.

“Oh! You should be Mr.Knight! You got that suit so it would make sense right?”

“Yes! It sounds sharp!”

The two continued to talk about hero names and ideas for Y/N.

“How about Crimson Spur?”

Y/N looked at Steven confused, “Spur?”

“Yeah, that’s what those little spiky things are called on insect legs”

“Why do you and Marc want to name me based of bugs?”

Steven looked at Marc confused this time.

“I said Maggot and she freaked out” Marc says nonchalant.

Steven rolled his eyes and pondered more. They would say what the powers would remind them of. Marc would continue to say spider or any kind of bug with long spiky legs. Steven would go ahead and say some scientific name which led to him having to explain what it meant.

They then stuck to the idea of squid or octopus but Y/N was not into it.

“That sounds lame”

“What’s wrong with Crimson Tentacle?”

“Steven it sounds like the title of a porn video, also squids are kinda just eh”

“How about Kraken?” Marc jumped in.

Steven and Y/N thought on it and nodded their heads.

“Guess Crimson Kraken will do, for now” Y/N turned to Layla who was sitting up.

“I see I missed your guys hero name choosing?” She stretched.

Y/N nodded, “Yup, Marc is Moon Knight, Steven is Mr.Knight, and I am the Crimson Kraken”

Layla nodded and moved closer to the front, looking straight ahead to the road. Well at this point there was no road, it was just sand.

“We can maybe stop here, I don’t think they’d follow us this far in” she placed a hand on Marc’s shoulder.

Marc nodded and parked the truck. The three got out and we’re met with the soft ground. Trying to walk on it was like trying to walk on the beach or on snow; taking one step at a time. Y/N looked up and saw how the stars were more visible and she looked at them in awe. She felt as if the purple hues would engulf her as she continued staring. That soon ended when Marc flipped the light on the trucks roof on, lighting the hood and anything near it.

Bidding the stars a farewell, she walked over to see Marc and Layla placing the pieces of constellations on the hood.

“This should be like a puzzle right?” Y/N looked at each piece to see if there was anything similar.

There wasn’t. It just looked like someone put dots on random places and called it a day. Layla grabbed one piece and then another, holding them near. That didn’t fit. She placed them down and looked to Marc who was doing the same thing. Then Y/N followed.

The three probably spent about 30 minutes in trying to figure out the map to Ammits tomb until Marc gave up.

Slamming the pieces down onto the hood, he gripped his hair frustration.

“We’re gonna be here all night trying to figure this shit out” he placed his elbows on the truck and covered his face, trying to gain himself again.

Y/N looked at the pieces again but felt her brain about to explode with seeing so many stars in one sitting. She placed them down and rubbed her eyes. As she did this, she swore she saw the same stars as she had her eyes closed.

“You think they might have a completed set online?” She grumbled.

“I don’t think the gods would want the route to the tomb of a goddess to be that accesible” Layla sighed as she leaned on the truck.

The three just stared down at the trucks hood. Just the sound of the wind moving the sand in the distance.

“…why don’t you let Steven out? He might be able to help us” Layla hesitates, “He understands this more than us three put together”

Marc thinks about it but Khonshus booming voice comes out.

“I summon the gods, you summon the worm” Khonshu kneels on the top of the truck.

Y/N looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Alright let me see you do this”

Khonshu ignored her, probably because he couldn’t do it.

“He won’t return the body”

“Marc we can’t wait. It’s okay, just let go” Layla pleads.

“She’s right Marc, like you said, this is time sensitive. We need to get to the tomb thing soon” Y/N looks at him hoping he would understand.

Marc clenched his fists and jaw, lashing out, he grabs the side mirror of the truck. He pulls it off in a fit of anger. Y/N flinches and stares at him grab the pieces of paper from the hood and walk a few feet away with the mirror.

Y/N stares back at the broken mirror and then at Layla, “Drama queen am I right?”. This earns a laugh from Layla, “Very much so”

The two look at him as he talks to his reflection, most likely Steven, and his body suddenly jolts up. His demeanor then turns into a slouched timid one. Steven now being in control again, he kneels down and starts arranging the pieces together while using tape to keep them in place.

Layla and Y/N walk closer and kneel next to him.

“Steven?” Layla calls out.

He looks up and stares into her eyes. As if he’s in a trance. Y/N clears her throat and he turns to her.

“I’m here too” she raises her hand.

“Ah right of course, I missed our time together” he says. He holds out the the pieces and explains how Egyptians used the stars and the sun to navigate their way through the desert. They both listen in, intrigued at the historical facts.

“Et voila” Steven holds up the taped pieces which are formed in a star.

“Oh shit!” Y/N looks at it marveled and so does Layla.

Steven looks at her face and smiles, “It’s uh French”. Layla laughs.

Y/N elbows Steven on the rib, “I think she knows what it is mate”.

Steven mutters an ‘oh right’.

“Anyways what now?” Y/N looks at the two.

Steven stares at the paper star and stands up, with the girls following. “Not sure but-“ he suddenly sees holes which line up into a constellation.

“We should be able to find the coordinates of that constellation, let me scan it” Layla brings out a device that looks like tablet and begins to scan it.

“Yeah but you see the problem is that, Senfu marked the tomb like 2,000 years ago…” Steven explains.

“Don’t stars move positions over time?” Y/N looks at Steven.

He nods, “So unless we know how the sky looked like on that date, we’re buggered”

“I remember that night. I remember every night” Khonshu stares off I to the desert on top of a hill.

Steven looks back at the two girls and points at him, Y/N nodding in understanding. He begins to walk up the steep hill of sand, with the two following. Layla however is still confused. She gently tugs Y/N’s arm and makes a puzzled expression.

“Oh it’s the bird god thing”, Y/N says nonchalant. Noticing Laylas expression becoming even more befuddled, she explains further.

“Bird god decided to show himself to me” she looks back at Khonshu still staring at the distance, “I wonder why…”

Shaking out of her thoughts, she gestures her head to Steven and Khonshu. The two follow up the hill, trying not to slip, well more Y/N, she wasn’t very experienced with this level of sand.

Once they get up to the top, Khonshu is nowhere to be found. Steven and Y/N look around but are only met with their shadows from the bright moon rays.

Steven calls out to him and is met again with Khonshus reverberating voice.

“I can turn back the night sky, but it comes with a cost and I can’t do it alone”

Wind chimes in instantly and Khonshu appears again next to Steven.

“Steven and Y/N, tell Marc that when the gods imprison me, to come back and set me free”

Y/N tilts her head at him, surprised that he is also trusting her. Yet she can’t continue think on it as Steven is wrapped in cloth which soon turns into his iconic suit.

“Oh damn,” Y/N exclaims with a tad bit of excitement.

“Wait what? What’s happening?” Layla asks.

“Khonshu and Steven are about to turn the night sky back to when Ammit was imprisoned” she practically jumps, wondering how that’ll look.

Layla nods and almost seems as excited as Y/N.

Steven then lifts his right hand, following Khonshus action. The sky glows brighter than it did before, showing the different tones more clearly. With the other hand the two begin to move it to the side, as if trying to move something.

Y/N looks yo to the sky and begins to see it rotate as if Steven was spinning a globe. One would get dizzy but Y/N was too starstruck to keep her eyes away. As Steven keeps moving his hand, the night begins rotate even faster to the point where the stars and the moon are shown through only a streak of white.

“This is fucking crazy” Y/N continues to stare.

The sky begins to slow down and stop at the same night sky from that day. Layla immediately bring her tablet up and begins to scan while Steven grunts trying to keep it steady.

Immediately after, Khonshu falls to his knees but continues to leave his arms raised. Unfortunately, his right arm gives up and almost becomes numb, falling to his side. So does Stevens.

Steven tries to raise it again but let’s out a noise of exhaustion, “I don’t know how long to do this”.

Looking over to Layla who is trying find the coordinates, she yells them out and Steven sighs in relief. Dropping his hands down.

Khonshu begins to disappear and Steven starts to become weak at his knees. Y/N tried to go and help him up but his body weight holds her down too.

He suddenly faints and falls numb to the ground. Layla and Y/N rush to his side and shake him.

“Hey hey! Wake up Steven! Marc?!” Layla shakes his body, pleading for one of the boys to come out and sit up.

“Shit, shit, come on guys!” Y/N begins to lightly slap their face. Trying to get a response.

Seeing that nothing is working, Layla looks at Stevens body and then to Y/N.

“Help me carry him back to the truck”

Y/N doesn’t think twice and begins to lift his legs while Layla lifts his shoulders. They both struggle but are able to lift him off the ground. Slowly they try to move down the hill but their grips gives out and drop Steven in the process. Y/N’s eyes widen and look at Layla.

“He won’t remember that” Layla waves off.

Y/N smiles and nods but then turns her head to a light that seems to come their way. She squints her eyes and tries to make out what it is, she sees it’s another truck. Realizing that they’ve been followed, she looks to Layla to tell her but can see that she already saw the sight by the face she was making.

“Help me drag him away” she says quickly, but before they can even grab him, bullets begin to fly their way. Even thought they were missing and landing on the sand, the two freaked out and fell down the hill with Steven.

The truck still in pursuit, missed them by a few feet and begin to drive around shining a light. Layla looks at truck and then turns to Y/N.

“Stay with Steven, I’ll try to stop them” she grabs the shoulders of the teen.

“Let me help!” She says loudly yet quietly.

Layla shakes her head and places a finger to her lips. She begins to run back to the truck and hides on the side and then moves to the trunk. Opening and then going in, she stays low as she hears men speaking in Arabic, saying they saw someone running.

Back with Y/N she feels her anxiety rise up as she looks at Layla being cornered. She looks to Steven who is unconscious and bites her lip.

“Uh, I think you should be fine…I’ll be right back” she races towards Layla but stops a few feet away.

Seeing how the truck begins to close in to Layla who’s hiding in their own truck, Y/N decides to bring their attention to her.

“Oye! Hijo de putas!” She waves her arms around.

The man who is sitting at the top turns to her, yelling to the driver that she was there. The truck begins to charge at her with the machine gun going off towards her.

“I forgot about the gun” she yells as she runs a different direction.

She continues to run, glancing back at the truck. Fortunately, the bullets weren’t hitting, jeez was the shooter bad. She waited for the truck to get as close as a distance. Y/N focused her energy to her right forearm. Finding the perfect chance, she suddenly turns which catches the shooter and river off guard. She then punches her arm up, causing the tentacles to rise up while holding the truck up. She then rapidly brings her arm down which causes the tentacles to slam the truck down, flattening it and hopefully making the two men unconscious.

She breathes out and smiles, walking back to Layla who stares at her with amazement. “You did fantastic!” She raises her hand up for a high five but stops when she sees that one of the men is still awake and trying to move the stuck machine gun towards the two. Layla sighs and grabs a red flare, lighting it then throwing it to the enemies truck. The vehicle instantly explodes and parts come flying.

“Now that was badass” Y/N raises her hand to Layla.

The two share a quick high-five. Layla smiles at Y/N but then furrows her brows to behind Y/N.

“What?” Y/N slowly turns and sees the figure of a man standing behind her.

Freaking out, she uses what’s left of her energy and punches whatever foe is still left from the small battle.

“Ow!”

She looks closer and sees Steven holding his nose in pain. Immediately she feels terrible and apologizes.

“I thought you were another of those bad guys!”

“We’ll im not! Jeez, you have a strong punch, I think you’ve broken my nose” Steven looks at his hand and sees there’s a blood stain.

Y/N has made Steven bleed.

And she felt terrible.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Y/N runs to the truck and grabs any piece of cloth she could find and runs back to Steven. “Here!”

She moves Stevens hand and forcefully places the cloth on his nose.

“Thanks love but it’s-“

“Lean your head down! Not back cause it supposedly can drown you? I don’t know!”

She pushes Stevens head down. He chuckled and grabs her shoulder as a reassurance, “Y/N don’t worry, I don’t think your small fisted punch can kill me”

“But I never punched you nor made you bleed dude! Also a lesson to not sneak up on me”

“A very good lesson at that, but it’s alright love it just means you can fend foes!” Steven cheers.

“I guess” Y/N slumps, still feeling guilty.

“Alright I believe it is time for us to get going. Don’t worry Y/N, Steven will survive” Layla says with a hint of humor.

Y/N nods and begins to move back to the truck, this time she was left to the back seat again, while the actual adults were at the front.

From there the car ride was rather quiet aside from the music that played. There would be times that Layla and Y/N would go into a musical number but it was probably only a couple of times. However it wasn’t just them two, Steven would also join. He had more energy when he sung which made the girls happier.

Y/N thought of ways to spice up the car ride by playing a few games. Sadly, the games were reduced to ‘Truth or Dare’ and ‘Never Have I Ever’ since the other ones required more room and surroundings; in this case they only had each other, the interior of the vehicle, and of course, sand.

So there really wasn’t much to do than just lay down and sleep. Y/N would offer to drive so Layla could rest but she would turn it down. Either because she was fine or she didn’t want Y/N to mysteriously wreck the truck.

After hours passed, the sun was beginning to rise. Layla was trying to rush to the tomb before Harrow got to it by stepping on the gas.

“When we get there, I think we will need Marc. We don’t know what Harrow might do” Layla glances at Steven.

He looks like he shrinks into the seat and then looks up to the mirror to his right.

“Actually, me and Marc came into an agreement that when we no longer had Khonshu, he would give the body to me”

Y/N scooted closer to the front and placed her elbows on the seats, “He said that once the whole Harrow business was over with that he’d leave?”

“Yeah but he and I changed our minds and now it’s when Khonshu isn’t here. Which he isn’t”

Layla grips the wheel tight, “So you guys made a deal, where he would just disappear from my life. And you didn’t think I’d be made aware of that?”

Y/N leans back into her seat and hopes the leather eats her whole. The atmosphere became so awkward so quickly and she didn’t know how to get out of it. It felt like she was back at home where her parents were arguing and she was just trying to eat a slice of pizza.

Yet that wasn’t the cherry on the top.

“Oh, well hadn’t he disappeared from your life already?” Steven asks her.

Layla stays quiet for a second and nods.

Y/N is very tempted to slap Steven right now. But oh god is this tension so unbearable. She covers her face trying to hide away.

“His suit was the best feature wasn’t it? Doesn’t even have that anymore” Layla looks straight ahead, “Plus he would want to go at this alone. We’re not gonna do that”

Steven nods, “Nope, it’s just you, Y/N, me, and the open road”

Y/N just squints her eyes seeing what he’s doing. Before she could open her mouth, the truck instantly comes to a halt.

“We’re gonna have to go on foot from here” Layla opens her door and begins to climb out.

Steven nods and does the same. Y/N stares at them and looks around the truck to see what they might need. All they had were spare clothes and a few snacks. She looked to the trunk and found a small backpack. She reached over to grab it and put in the rest of the small food.

Zipping it up, she got off and saw Layla and a Steven waiting for her. She hurried her step, “Got everything, well snacks in case were hungry you know”

Layla smiled, “Perfect, I have a few tools too just in case”

They looked over to Steven who had a backpack as well, “I uh, I have a few items in here too”

They shrugged and nodded and looked to the path before them. There were two canyons that framed a path that looked narrow.

The two walked through, being enveloped by the shadows. All they could hear were crows cawing from above and the sound of a small stream going through. They came upon an arch that had the top be a large rock that snuggly fit in, leaving space to walk under. However, on top of it was a goat that looked down at them.

Y/N scoffed and gestured her head to Steven to look at it. “Will you look at that, you should take a picture of that” he smiled.

She took out her phone and tried to aim it where the sun hit the angle right. With a quick click, she showed Steven the final result and he made an ‘ooh’ sound. Layla raised a thumbs up and said how photography suited her.

“Have you thought of becoming a photographer?” Layla questioned

Y/N simply shrugged, “I don’t know, kinda? But I kinda quit on that”

“Maybe you should look into it more” Layla patted her back.

Y/N smiled and nodded.

——

After almost an hour of walking, the three stand before a large plain of sand. The wind blows across their ear as they feel the small grains of sand. They felt their skin burn from the sun rays, especially now that they were away from the shade that the canyons were providing.

Their eyes pan from the tan canvas to an area that has tents pitched up.

“That must be where the tomb is” Layla informs.

“That’s got to be Harrows guys camp there” Y/N squints trying to look closer.

“Yup, that just means we have no time to lose” Steven looks at the two.

Arriving at the camp, there were many trucks scattered around. Walking through caution, they saw there was a few camels tied down. Steven waved to one as Y/N took a selfie with them.

Walking further in, their eye catched the side of a mountain. There was a small entrance that was framed with what seemed to be sticks to make a cover. Y/N began to walk towards it but felt Layla pull her arm back gently.

“We should first look for supplies” Layla waited for a confirmation before she began to walk off.

Y/N looked around, trying to find a place to start. Steven looked too and pointed to one tent.

“Maybe we can start with that one and then work around?”

“Oh, I was planning on just going off on my own to another one” Y/N pointed to a different tent.

“Well wouldn’t it be best if we stuck together? You know, safety”

“I mean yeah but I’ll be fine on my own, and plus I got this,” she raised an arm up which she then had a black strand appear from it, “so nothing to worry”

Steven tightened his lips and thought. “Alright, just if there’s anything that seems like trouble-“

“I’ll scream for you and Layla!” Y/N yelled out as she began to walk off.

Pulling open the curtains of the tent, she looked inside making sure there wasn’t anyone inside. Stepping inside after seeing she was fine, she noticed how it was a bit cooler inside. Although there was no lights, the sun made an orange glow happen inside.

There were a few beds, not the best ones thought but Y/N felt rather envious of the thought of being able to sleep on a bed. Oh how she missed her bed. There were a few tables that had many things on top like paper and small tools. She looked at each surface; grabbing every bottle to see if there was any water or even looking at any documents if there was anything important. Nothing though.

Where would someone hide suck important things? She already looked everywhere. Not everywhere though. She looked to the beds and went down to see if there was anything underneath. The first two beds, she was only met with messed up looking shoes or just sand. However on the last one she was surprised to see a small box.

Pulling it out from under, she was glad that it had no special lock or code. Inside she found what seemed to be letters and a small golden telescope. She shrugged and took the small golden thing but then turned to the papers. Taking one in hand, she tried to read it but it was no use. The letter was in Arabic.

She looked through the rest and it was no use. Still, there was something that laid under one of the letters. Maybe it was info for the tomb but it wasn’t. It was actually different.

It was a Polaroid picture of a family. There was a man who had a beard, almost in his middle years. He held a closed mouth smile. Next to him was a woman around the same age who had long black hair. She also had a closed mouth smile but it was more warm. Infront of them were two small children, a boy and a girl. They held a great big smile, showing their teeth. Each one having a few feature from each parent.

Y/N smiled but then frowned. She kept thinking of Harrows men as just Harrows men. Yet she forgot that they each have a family and come from somewhere. They most likely had people waiting for them back home. Waiting for them to say that they helped “save the world”.

She wondered if how this man’s family was feeling. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Do they hope for him to get back?

Suddenly she thought of her own family. We’re they worried? We’re they proud? Did they hope Y/N was coming back? Or were they maybe glad she left?

This man’s family probably couldn’t wait to see him. But how about her own family?

She felt her eyes widen when she realized how these thoughts came in. She blinked them away and held her face.

Stop thinking like that. They miss you. They miss you…right?

She immediately put the picture back and closed the box. Sliding it quickly under the bed, she got up and began walking out the tent.

Y/N walked around the camp trying to remember which tent Steven said he’d go to. It was starting to get rather hot, that she had to take off her brown jacket and tie it around her waist, leaving her in the green t-shirt.

She continued to walk through, catching glances of the camels judging her as she tried to find her friends. Fortunately, one of the tents that she opened she saw Steven with his back facing her. He was looking at his reflection from a mirror and talking to it. On it, Y/N saw how the mirror would distort from Steven talking to what seemed to be Marc.

“You’re in love with my wife?”

“I really appreciate your concern, mage. I really do. But we’ve got it from here” Steven says almost with a bit of sass.

“I swear to you Steven. If you lay one finger on her! I’ll throw us off a cliff!!”

“I’ll call you” Steven says and turns around.

Not expecting Y/N to be there, he jumps. She raises and eyebrow and smirks.

“What was going on there? I could barely hear but it sounded like something about Layla?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Jesus I didn’t know you were there…Uhm it’s nothing important. Just Marc being sensitive about me being on the reigns of the horse” He flared back to a reflection.

“Right…It’s your guys business,” she raises her hands up, “Anyways, I wanted to see if you found anything”

Steven pulls out two flashlights from his bag and shows them to Y/N, “You?”

“Just this golden telescope but uh…I still don’t know if should keep it or put it back”

“Why’s that? I say keep it as your first treasure of this mission” He smiles.

Y/N purses her lips and looks to the floor, “Yeah, I’ll keep it”

Steven looks at her confused, seeing that she looks guilty about taking the small trinket. Not knowing about the backstory it had.

“Y/N is everything alri-“

“Steven! Y/N!” Layla begins to shout from outside.

“That’s our cue” Y/N walks out of the tent and to Laylas way.

Steven sighs and follows behind. Before it was easy telling each other anything but with what has been happening with Harrow, it has become difficult. He was set on trying to finish this soon so he and Y/N could go back to living everyday lives.

Layla waits by the cave with a pair of safety belts in hand with one she is already wearing.

"What are these for?" Y/N looks down as Layla begins to help her put one of the safety belts on.

"Well it turns out," She breathes out trying to tighten one of the gears, "we will have to jump down a hole to get to the tomb"

"Wait what?!" Y/N pulls back causing Layla to loosen her grip, "I thought it was just waltzing in and the tomb being there!"

"Yeah but then that would be too easy for thieves, wouldn't it?" Steven scrunched his nose.

Y/N looks at him, then at Layla, then at the darkness of the cave.

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to. You can maybe stay here and be on guard" Layla looks into Y/Ns eyes.

"What? She can't just stay out here. What if Harrow comes?" Steven's heart almost stopped with just the thought.

"Well no offense, but she's the only one with powers left, so I think she'll be able to at least run away to safety if that were to happen"

That is true, she is the only one left with powers. Meaning what if Harrow gets to them first. Who would protect them?

"Its alright, I'll go"

"Y/N, if you are afraid to go, you don't have to-" Layla places a hand on her shoulder.

"No, it's alright. Plus I'm the only one with powers left and you guys won't have me there to protect you" She smiles.

Layla gives Y/N a grin and continues to fasten the safety belt on her. After she begins to help Steven, which is rather an awkward moment since there is tension there. A romantic tension.

"You smell like him" Layla looks at Stevens lips and then to his eyes.

Y/Ns eyes widen and she slowly begins to look away, immediately finding interest in her bag. However she sneaks in glimpses to see what is happening, which she is surprised to see Layla trying to lean in for a kiss.

Sadly, Steven moves his head away, "Marcs trying to protect you from Khonshu"

Layla backs up and looks at him dazed, "What?"

"He thinks Khonshu Wants you for his Avatar, and he won't let that happen"

Y/N sighs at the disaster, "Great to ruin the mood".

"Well I don't need protection, I need honesty" Layla grabs a glove angrily and begins to put it on. She then begins to fasten Stevens's safety belt.

Suddenly Steven grabs Laylas shoulders.

"Wait..." Y/N looks at them with a puzzled look.

Steven then goes in for a kiss. Y/N gasps loudly and stares at them with her mouth ajar.

The kiss looks rather awkward but its a whole different pace for the day. They separate and Layla looks at him with an awkward smile, "Im gonna go down first, before I belay"

Layla begins walk to the cave and into the hole.

Y/N stands up and begins to slowly clap, walking closer to Steven. "Damn Steven my boy, I thought I would be the one to get my first kiss, guess not" she laughs.

"Oh shut it...do you think I made things awkward?"

"Well...kinda? She didn't slap you so that's a good sign I think. There is bad news though" she crosses her arms.

"What?" He cocks his head to the side

"Marc won't be liking this, he might be fuming in there," she says with a British accent.

Steven opens his mouth but is met with his fist plunging into his face. Y/N looks at him with shock and then erupts in a fit of laughter.

"That's not funny" Steven rubs his nose, "I have been punched twice now"

"It is kinda but hey I apologized for the first one!" Y/N chuckles as she begins to make her way into the cave.

Down at the hole, Layla walks over to a statue that sits by an entrance. She looks down smiling at the sand and begins to draw a symbol.

“Ah shit!” Y/N yells out as she descends down to the hole. Fortunately she was able to land on her two feet but she continued to grip on the rope for dear life. Layla chuckles and walks over to her and helps her get the safety belt off.

“Not so scary was it?” She teases Y/N.

“Not really, but falls like that still freak me out you know. Like this one time, I went on this one Jurassic World ride and there was this-,” Y/N pauses and looks at Layla sheepishly, “Sorry, I was about to ramble”

“It’s fine, I’d like to hear it” Layla smiles warmly at her.

“Yeah, but probably some other time since we’re kinda on a tight schedule” Layla nods, Y/N noticing the symbol that is behind her, “What’s that?”

Layla turns and sort of jumps at what she wrote being acknowledged, “Oh, it’s a symbol for my father. He would have loved it here”

“Hmm, I like that,” Y/N turns to Layla with a smile, “I think he’d be proud that you were able to come”

Layla returns a grin and thanks her. Noticing that the atmosphere has become cheesy, Y/N clears her throat and looks back at the symbol.

“So was he into Egypt?”

“Oh he wasn’t just into it, he was obsessed. He was an archeologist and would travel around the globe to find neat things. One of the main places he’d go would be here in Egypt” Layla breaths out as she remember the fond memories of her father.

“Heh, your dad and my grandpa would have gotten along just fine then” Y/N smiles down, touching one of the statues that sat there.

“He was an archeologist too?”

“Not exactly, he was just into history of all kind. Mesoamérica would be his top one but Egyptian history came second. Man, he would talk my ear off about all the facts” Y/N begins to draw the initials of her grandfather near the area that Layla drew, “I rambled didn’t I? Sorry”

Layla shakes her head and comes by, looking at the two figures. She squeezes Y/N’s shoulder, “Both of them would be proud of us right now”.

“Yeah…”

The two shared a moment of silence just staring at the statue infront of them. Y/N never really put a thought on Laylas personal life nor even tried to ask about it. Yet, she didn’t not regret being the second to come down hole and share small moment with her.

Of course moments don’t last this long since not even a second later is there a tumbling down with a scream. It felt like things went in slow motion in those few seconds and Y/N was able to see that Steven was falling. Although it was a small fall, it still pumped an adrenaline and caused her to bring her arms out and cause tentacles to wrap around Steven before he could fall.

Steven looked surprised and looked at the tentacles as they brought him to the ground. The limbs then went back into Y/N and she stood there with a smirk.

“Told you guys would need me” Steven rolled his eyes and dusted himself off.

“Perhaps you were. Did I miss anything?”

Layla shakes her head, “Not really”

Steven nods but then sees the statue behind Layla and Y/N, “Oh how beautiful”. He walks towards it and beams with excitement, “Oh if these came to life and told me to answer a riddle, I would not hesitate”

“I think I’d shit my pants if they did” Y/N tilts hee head as she continues to examine the sculptures.

“Alright, I believe we should start heading inside before Harrow comes” Layla points to the opening.

“Right,” Steven looks at Y/N and gestures her to go first.

The three go through the entrance which leads to a narrow, triangular tunnel. They continue and notice they are lead through turns and circles which leads them to a small room. In it, there is a cube table in the center made out of sand.

Layla shines a flashlight to one opening and then to another, “It’s a maze”

“It’s a-maze-ing” Steven laughs at his own joke.

“No like, there are six paths” Layla walks around the area.

Y/N stares at him, “Good effort, maybe add a bit more cheeriness”

“Oh I apologize, I didn’t know this was going to be critiqued”

Y/N snickers and shines a light around the room, trying to find any clues. She walks over to the small table and inspects it. Nothing.

“Man I would suck in escape rooms” Y/N rubs the back of her head.

Steven mutters ‘6 points’ and begins to draw on the sand on the table. While that happens, Layla picks up a few bullet shells, “What would they be shooting at?”

Y/N shrugs, “Who knows, maybe another avatar is trying to help us”

“Aha!” Steven exclaims and points to the drawing, “This whole structure is-“

“The Eye of Horus” Y/N comes closer to the table

“Look at you, I didn’t know you had any Egyptian facts in you” Steven teases.

Y/N eyes him down, “It’s the only thing I remember from our ex-job” she then looks down to the drawing.

“Ammits final Avatar was a pharaoh” Layla stares down.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is like a protection thingy no?” Y/N points at the doodle.

“Yup, for the royals. I am honestly proud you know this” Steven smiles at Y/N.

Y/N feels fuzzy, smiling back at him. It felt like an actual praise and not some fake thing to encourage you.

Steven begins to explain about the Eye of Horus and what each point represents; the 6 senses. The eyebrow which are for thoughts. Pupil sight. One corner of the eye is hearing. The other is smell. Another is touch. Lastly, the long curvy line is the tongue.

“The avatar would be Ammits voice” Layla looks up at Steven.

Click! The puzzle was solved and the three began to walk through the path that would be the tongue of the eye. It was another long tunnel but at the end they were met with a big and tall room. At the center was a table and on the sides were rectangle openings with what seemed to be mummies. On the walls there were Egyptian paintings.

Layla shines her light on one of the paintings, “Oh those are Heka Priests. They would have been entombed in here to protect the pharaoh”

“What is a Heka?” Y/N shines her flashlight on the mummies by the walls.

“Sorcerers of their time. They’ve been down here for centuries,” Layla then points to the bodies, “These must be the unlucky souls that crossed their path”

“Ahahah…shit I hope these guys are dead” Y/N breaths out.

The sound of gagging catches Y/N’s attention. Steven is covering his mouth and is looking down, “Oh my god”

Y/N walks to see what he is staring at and her eyes widen, “Oh hell no, is that blood?”

The two stares down at the table which has engravings and on it is the scarlet color splattered everywhere.

Layla gets close and examines it close.

“Oh god, are those chunky meaty bits?” Steven gags.

“Oh my god dude! Don’t describe it! I just got over what I saw back at that cliff” Y/N shivers at the memory of finding ‘not’ Marc killing men left and right.

“Right I’m sorry” Steven raises a hand up to Y/N.

Y/N uses her shirts collar to cover her nose from the smell. She walks around the table and finds jars of clay with the lid being shaped as a jackal. Some of the jars however are covered in red stains.

Layla picks up one of the tools that are set on the table, covered in more fresh blood.

“Alright we should keep moving” Layla begins to walk to the other opening and stops in her tracks.

On the floor, there is a trail of blood. As if someone dragged a corpse away from the table.

“Oh nope, nope. Nah dude, do you see horror movies? This is exactly what the dumb people do; follow the trail of blood” Y/N breaths out and begins to hyperventilate.

Steven notices and places a hand on Y/Ns back, “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. Nothing will happen. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?”

Y/N nods and begins to control her breathing again.

Steven breaths out in relief and looks around the room. He looks up to the second floor and finds a second opening.

“Look! Should we check it out?” Steven looks to Layla who is rubbing circles on Y/N.

She nods, “Alright you go up there”

“Wait me?”

So there goes Steven, climbing a ladder to the second floor. At the top, it looks like it was an area where the Heka Priests would store some of their items and even just keep the bodies there. Since there was one on wooden table.

“All good?” Layla asks.

“Yeah, oh look here,” he looks to a wall scripture, “It says here that Ammit should be bound to an ushabti. Those statue thingies”

Steven continues to look around and begins to list the different items that are used for the rituals. Obviously, getting distracted.

“Hey Steven!” Layla whisper-yells, “Remember the opening”

Steven says an ‘oh right’ and heads away from the balcony. Y/N who is now calmer, looks worriedly and begins to walk towards the ladder.

“Hey hey, where are you going?”

“Imma go with Steven, I have a feeling something’s bound to-“

“Hey it’s this way!” Steven tells

Suddenly there are gunshots that sound from outside. The three freeze up and look to the entrance that they came from.

“Harrow” Layla looks at Steven.

“What are they shooting at?”

“I dont-“ A clicking sound then cuts off Layla.

“Hide!” Y/N whispers.

“Wait Y/-“ Steven yells but stops when he sees a shadow loom from the tunnel they walked through.

Layla runs behind the table and crouches down. Steven runs to a nearby table as well and crouches down too. Unfortunately for Y/N, she has no other hiding spot but the upward grave of those unfortunate souls.

She runs to one and cringes as she moves one of the corpses to the side, hiding beneath it. Hiding in complete darkness and dead body, she holds her breath. A man looking creature then comes in while dragging the body of a man with a vest. It looks like a man who’s in his middle years and has a short beard. Seeing a resemblance, Y/N feels her heart stop.

It was the man who was in the picture. The one with the family.

She could hear her heart beating faster by the second. In her head she’s hoping it calms down, or else that thing will come for her. Her breaths are slow yet heavy as she stares as the thing takes out a knife. She looks over to Layla who is only a feet away from the monster.

Although it was dark she could see that the man-looking thing has a dark blue skin tone. It wears a golden chest plate with a collar adorned by jewels. It wears withered cloth at the bottom with a belt holding those same jars they saw.

A gushing sound is then heard and the groans of the man. It was obvious what it was doing yet Y/N was still at lost. That was until it pulled something out of the man’s torso and placed it inside on of the jars from before. Giving her a view of the man on the table, the imagery was explicit. From his stomach to his chest he had a long cut and Y/N swore she saw some of his intestines.

She felt her eyes well up with tears, remembering the picture that was under the bed. His kids would be waiting for their dad, not knowing that he was being killed in a gruesome way.

Aside from feeling sadness, she felt disgusted. Again, movies had a way to make you think you’d be able to handle scenes like these in real life. Still, Y/N felt like throwing up. She looks at one of the paintings above and then at the creature. In the paintings, the Heka Priests wear a golden collar with blue beads and jewels on it. Y/N looks back at the thing and notices it has the same collar. Realizing that the monster is a Heka Priest, it makes more sense what they have gotten into.

“What the actual fuck” she thought.

She continues to stare at Layla who is trying to get far away from the Heka. Slowly moving her body to behind the table, Y/N worries more now that she can't see Layla.

Layla continues to crawl away, more focused on the noise she's making than her surroundings, she knocks down one of the jars.

Y/N feels like she is about to throw up her heart as she sees the Heka stop and walks around the table trying to find the cause of the noise. It begins to make a clicking noise more loudly which creeps the three out more.

It begins to get closer to the other side of the table until a creaking from above takes its attention. It looks up at where Steven is hiding and jumps on the table to try to get a better view.

Steven tries to sit still but unfortunately causes the priest to jump to the bottom of the floorboard that he stands on. Steven gasps and stands up immediately. The priest begins to climb to Steven.

Y/N peeks and sees how her friend is about to die and looks around to try to find a way to distract it. The closest thing she has is the corpse that is in her space bubble. She breathes out and gets the courage. Does she have a plan? Not really, she is just hoping a god, maybe Hathor, can come and rescue them. Which doesn't happen.

Y/N pushes the corpse down which leads to a loud thud. The priest looks down and jumps off the small balcony. He lands right in front of Y/N and looks at her. She prepares to fight but another loud sound is met. The priest looks to where the sound of a jar being smashed to the wall comes from and sees Layla standing there.

"Run!" Y/N yells out and Layla listens.

Layla runs to the opening which they weren't going to go through in the first place. Y/N comes out of the hiding spot and breaths in deeply. She looks up and sees Steven looking down.

Y/N climbs up and is met with Steven grabbing her shoulders, "What were you thinking?!"

"Hey, I saved your ass!"

"Which put you in harm's way!" Steven breathes out, "Sorry, just don't do that again you understand? "

Y/N nods and Steven lets go of her. He looks to the other opening he was talking about, "Layla is probably on the other side"

The two walk through another tunnel, this time longer than the others. It was covered in sandstone in which you can tell it was starting to fall apart due to the cracks. The only thing illuminating the way was their flashlights.

Halfway, Steven looks at Y/N and sees how her expression carries paranoia and fatigue. The two hadn't slept in their own beds for about two days now. Y/N used to always joke around or keep a positive vibe but it seemed like the past events had put a pause to that. In spite of her trying to tease him earlier today, he could tell she was trying to distract herself. Steven didn't blame her, the poor girl was only worried about attending college in a new country. Instead of worrying about exams, she was now stressing over the end of the world.

Actually, what was she trying to study?

"Hey, I have been thinking and I realized I never asked you about what you were majoring" Steven looks at her.

She raises a brow, "Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

"Well it looks like we will be walking through this path for a while so might as well make small talk," He gestures to the lit tunnel, "Also because I am interested"

"...Nursing"

"Ah, so you want to be a nurse. That sounds fun" He grins at her but she only gives a half smile.

"Yeah... it's pretty cool"

Steven's eyes drew together, "It doesn't sound like you think it is"

Y/N looks down, "It...I mean it doesn't really matter, it makes good money"

"...Shouldn't you choose something that you like?"

Y/N stays quiet and shrugs.

Now that Steven thinks about it, he noticed how she was still a bit more cheerful until that phone call from last night. That's when Y/Ns mood went down.

"...So I may not fluently speak Spanish but that phone call from last night...it didn't sound like good news"

Y/N's shoulders become tense, "It was nothing, just family stuff you know"

"Alright, if you don't want to say, I won't force you. Just know I will gladly listen if you need to let a few things out"

Y/N breathes in and thinks for a while, "...I guess it was obvious huh?"

"Very"

She smiles and hesitates, "My mom saw a video of me using my powers to fight those guys at Mogarts place"

Steven's eyes widen but doesnt say anything which Y/N takes as a sign to continue.

"She asks if I'm in a gang or something. I of course say no. She tells me how I have disappointed her and my dad. That I'm just like my siblings, a disappointment"

Steven's brows wrinkle, in anger maybe, "Did you explain to her what was actually happening?"

"Tried to but she was full-on crying. So now she wants me to immediately head back home and study close” Y/N finally looks up to Steven.

“Well I can’t stand by that of course. Who else will share the afternoon gossip with me?” He elbows her gently.

Y/N laughs, “I mean, no one else can beat me…besides I’d be bored back at America”

The two begin to make their way out of the tunnel and into a room.

“It seems that the only way to prove to her, is if you do something great. Might I add something that can defeat a bad man and make you look like the hero” he gestures to what is inside the room.

The two carefully walk in, stepping over a stream that flows into a large square in the center. Many pillars stand with more painting on them while there are a few sculptures.

“A tomb gif for a pharaoh” Steven gapes at the scene, “Oh! Look at that! There’s Thutmose II and Nefertiti”

“Wait Nefertiti!? I think shes one of the greats no?” She shines a light at each tomb.

“Yup, which means the treasure we’re looking for should be here”

“Wait wait, we’re in an Egyptian tomb…last time someone came in they died unexpectedly…dude are we going to die?”

Steven scoffs, “Probably not…I hope”

They slowly walk up to the square, stepping on stones to avoid falling into the water.

“So you kissed her”

“You heard that?” Y/N whips her head around.

“Yeah it’s just Marc”

“Ohh, he must be angry with you then”

Steven nods and looks down at his reflection on the water. “What are you gonna do? Drown us?”

“I should”

They climb up the square and lay eyes on a sarcophagus. Steven gets closer and begins to inspect it, muttering about Macedonian.

“It can’t be…” Steven stares down at the sarcophagus.

“Wait what?”

“I think we’re looking at the long lost tomb of Alexander the Great”

The tomb is what King Tuts looks like except more withered and not as bright. Except the gold being the thing making it stand out.

“Oh my god! Let me take a pic- wait is that allowed? Would I get cursed?” Y/N holds her phone to her chest.

“Us being here is probably already a no-no rule”

Steven looks down and bites his lip, “There are so many alarms telling me to not open this thing”

“You want Harrow to get to Ammit first?”

“Oh I can hear him now” Y/N looks at a nearby reflection of Marc, “Hey my guy, been long. Definitely had no part in keeping you hostage by the way”

“Yeah, missed you too”

Steven places his palms on the lid of the tomb and begins to push. Seeing him struggle, Y/N moves to his side and also begins to push the top off.

Inside, a body wrapped tightly in cloth lays there. Its arms are crossed and on it is a piece made out of gold with two circles connected by wings. By the torso, there is a golden axe with designs on the blade.

"We are definitely cursed now" Y/N breathes out

"Well if you keep saying it, you might just manifest it," Steven says in an eery tone to try to freak her out.

Y/N pauses and stares at Steven.

"You'll be fine don't worry, is the ushabti one of those things?"

Steven shakes his head, "Well if you were trying to hide it for all eternity, you wouldn't want it to be this easy to find"

Y/N snaps her fingers and points at Steven, "Wait! You know how the tongue is a symbol for voice and it's also the thing that brought us here? Wouldnt the ushabti be hidden in the mouth or something?"

"Alexander was the voice of Ammit, yes!" Steven exclaims but then slouches seeing the corpse, "Oh dear..."

It doesn't take long for Y/N to understand and looks down at the body, "That's all you buddy" she pats his back.

Steven breathes in and begins to rip the wrappings from the neck up. Alexander the Great's skull is then unveiled.

Steven then grabs the jaw ad opens it up. Seeing that there is nothing in the mouth, Steven begins to slowly put his whole arm down the body's throat.

"Thats right, get in there"

"Maybe just pretend you're touching a bowl of spaghetti?" Y/N rambles and continues to give details.

"Y/N"

"Yeah?"

"That's not really helping"

"My bad" she backs away to give him space.

Steven continues digging around until his eyes widen and pull his arm back out.

"I got it!" He holds up a small ceramic statue of a half-woman and half-crocodile.

"You got it!" Y/N yells out.

The two go in for a hug but Y/N pulls away immediately. Steven looks at her puzzled.

"We can hug when I know you don't got mummy guts on you"

Steven rolls his eyes playfully, "Wait until Layla comes-"

On cue, Layla walks into the tomb and closer to them.

"Layla!" Y/N runs up to her and hugs her, "You're okay!" but she doesn't return it.

She backs away and looks at her funny. She knows this feeling, she has learned how to sense someone's feelings. And Layla was not happy.

Layla continues to walk up to Steven, keeping a few feet of space in between.

"Can he hear me?" Layla says in a serious tone

"Alexander? I don't think so, god I hope not" He gives an awkward smile.

"What happened to my father?"

The atmosphere becomes thick and it becomes uncomfortable. Y/N looks at Steven who is as lost as her. Layla gets closer to Stevens face, "Im talking to you Marc!"

She shoves Steven and his eyes begin to flutter back. His body language becomes firm and tense.

"Y/N go look for a way out" Marcs tells her without looking at her.

To Y/N it translates to "Me and mom are about to argue, go to your room so you don't listen". She gives one last look at them and heads out to the opening that they came from.

--

Remembering that there are more of Harrow men at where they came out in from, she decided to go to the other path to maybe see a hidden passage.

"Man that was awkward" She shines the light around the tunnel trying to see if there is a sign of an exit.

She wonders if Marc is doing alright handling Layla's yelling. No judgment if he was terrified, she was too. She continues walking through the path and stops to see that it led her to a small room with more statues. One that catches her eyes is one that has the head of what looks like a Doberman and the body of a man.

"I feel like I should know your name. Know how to get out of here?"

"His name is Anubis, God of the Dead" a males voice is heard from behind.

Y/N turns and sees the elderly man who is the cause of all this. The one who ruined her first day of College and now is trying to end the world.

"Oh hell no" She begins to walk away but is stopped by two men who are pointing their guns at her.

"Let's chat, shouldn't we? I don't think we really got to know each other," he walks towards them.

"How about no? With much offense, you creep me out so..."

"You know, your grandfather was an extraordinary man"

This grabs Y/Ns attention, "How do you know him?"

"Well Ammit is connected to death, so I usually like to learn more about the ones who have passed on" he walks around Y/N, "What I learned was that he was the only company that you probably had and probably the only person who understood you"

Y/N bites the inside of her mouth as tears well up, "What about it? H-How is this relevant to-"

"To what I said to you back at Mogarts. It's obvious that you find comfort in not only Marc but in Layla too"

Y/N stares down as Harrow continues to talk.

"It makes sense now on why you continue to follow them," He gets close to Y/N, "Why not join me and not only will you make your parents proud again but I can offer you to see your grandfather"

Y/N stays quiet, thinking. Her whole life she has tried to make her parents happy. To be the one that is the star of the whole family. Aside from trying to make all the aunts, uncles, and cousins envious. What next?

She never really thought of a Plan B.

The main question is, what would Marc, Steven, and Layla think? They'd be disappointed of course.

She thought about all the things they have done.

Working with Steven was fun, probably more entertaining than hanging out with her friends back home. He was kind and actually caring, looking out for her well-being.

Marc was eventful. Although she had only known him for a day or two, he taught her how to be strong. How to fight. But most of all he stood by her side and put up with all her antics. He was rather funny and also looked out for her.

Layla was sweet. There were times when she thought Layla would yell at her. Like back at the hideout when she was too scared to use her powers. She was patient and was like an older sister to her.

"What about it Y/N?"

Harrow's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him and he held a hand out to her. She looked at it as her breath shook. She forgot that she was scared right now. She gulped and looked into his eyes.

No one else would be able to make her feel loved, safe, and accepted like the three have.

She moved her hand to Harrows but stopped, "...Im good"

She thrust her hand at his chest, summoning a tentacle to make him fly across the room. The rest of the men started to shoot but she used her extended limbs to grab them all, crushing them.

Throwing the men away from the path she came from, she tried to run but heard a gun being loaded. She looked back and saw Harrow pointing a gun to her.

Bang! Bang!

Two gunshots.

She used her tentacles to block them. She heard metal clink on the floor and she looked down to see a bullet flattened.

"...You missed" She smiles

"You only caught one"

Y/N looks at him confused and looks down. She sees that her shirt is getting stained by a red substance. It is around her chest and notices blood oozing out as she presses her palm on it.

"What?" her breath is shaky as she looks at her bloody hand.

Looking up, she begins to run away back to the others.

Harrow stares at her as she leaves.

"Do we go after her?" One of his men ask.

He shakes his head, "Lets wait a moment, let them have a moment to say goodbye"

--

"Thats the reason we met. You just had a guilty conscious" Layla wipes tears off of her face.

"Im sorry" Marc quietly says.

The two stand there in silence before gunshots are heard from far away. The two look at each other.

"It can't be those Heka Priests" Marc looks around, worry beginning to come.

Layla shakes her head slowly and looks around, "Y/N hasn't come back"

They hear small steps, and a shadow is seen limping their way. Y/N comes out with a hand under her chest. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping down. The color of her skin was beginning to fade.

"Marc? Layla? I think i-" She stumbled to the floor.

They ran to her, Marc catching her. He brought her away from the entrance and kneeled, placing her gently down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" She continued to say as she choked back the tears.

"Its okay, your okay" Marc said quickly as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

"I know you told me to be careful but, but I-" Tears flowed down her face.

Layla looked through her bag trying to find bandages.

"Shh shh, I'm not angry don't worry. You just gotta hang on" He looked to Layla to see if she had anything but there was nothing.

Marc's voice broke but he continued to hold himself together. Y/N slowly began to feel her limbs going numb.

"Marc...I'm scared. I don't want to die" She cried

"You're not dying alright, I won't let that happen" He squeezed her hand.

He then began to feel her hand become loose, and he looked back at her face. Her eyes softened and the shine in her eyes disappeared. Layla covered her mouth and tears started to spring out.

Marc's eyes widened and he started to shake Y/Ns body, "Hey, Hey! Come on! Don't forget we still have that deal! We still have to figure out whos food spot is best"

Layla placed a hand on his shoulder, "Marc stop...She's gone"

Marc couldn't hold it anymore and all the tears he held in came out. He brought Y/Ns body close, the first time he hugged her but she wouldn't even know.

The only words that went through his mind were "Your fault"

More steps started to come and Marc looked at Layla, "Go! I'll hold them off"

Layla took one last look at Y/Ns body and ran to hide. Marc stood up and grabbed the golden axe from the tomb.

"Come on!" He stood in a stance as he waited.

A large group of men came out with Harrow.

"I remember the first morning that I woke up, knowing Khonshu was gone" Harrow looks up at him.

Marc looks at him with anger and hatred in his eyes, "Im going to kill you"

Harrow tilts his head and then looks at the lifeless body of Y/N, "I apologize that I killed your friend but she wasn't letting reason talk to her. Now don't make that same wrong choice"

Marc huffed, "...Okay"

One of the men slowly walked up to Marc trying to get the ushabti. However, Marc grabbed the gun and used the axe to chop the hand of the man. As he was going to continue to fight the other one who charged at him, Harrow brought his gun up and shot Marc three times.

Marc fell down, into the pool of water that surrounded the sarcophagus. Layla stared in shock, trying to cover her scream. Not only did she lose one friend but now her husband.

Harrow continued to stare down to make sure he was dead, "I can't help those who don't want to be helped"

Harrow then walked away with his men following.

Once gone, Layla came out of the shadows and pulled Marc out of the water and dragged him with Y/N.

She looked at the two and broke down crying. She placed both hands on the bodies and cried.

She was truly alone now.

------

Let's ignore my almost 30 days of no update lmao

My bad thought but for real college is fucking me in the ass with the amount of work. As I type this, I have a research paper waiting for me.

Also, I hope I didn't make yall cry/sad

Also if shit dont make sense, its cuz I had writers block cockblocking me and I was trying to get to the knitty gritty. Anyways enjoy :)

Tags:

@itsjusspele @dustyinkpages

Feel free to ask me to add you in the taglist :)

[gcdschosen]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆  the  arrival  of  AELINOR  of  house  MARBRAND,  the  LADY AND HEIR TO ASHEMARK.  whispers  among  the  court  name  them  to  be  both  clever  and  resentful  in  disposition,  and  those  closest  to  them  speak  to  their  interests  in  cyvasse and music.  if  we  bards  could  compose  a  song  for  them,  it  might  tell  stories  of  a beautiful face and a sharp mind, working in unity to achieve any goal; an old song, forgotten by many but treasured by one, sung in the dark of the night; the intoxicating scent of orange blossoms and honey, lingering in the air and dancing behind a woman as she walks; a smile as bright as gold, capable of charming even the coldest hearts; a pile of old, handwritten letters, kept neatly stored yet collecting dust where they have been left to be forgotten.  the  seven  whisper  to  their  most  devout  queen  as  she  sleeps,  making  her  question  where  their  loyalties  truly  lie.  are  they  right  to  whisper?  for  their  loyalties  truly  lie  with  HERSELF.

basic information.

full name : aelinor myrielle marbrand . nickname(s) : allie . title : lady of ashemark ( presumed heir ) . moniker : the lady of ashes , aelinor the golden . age : thirty . gender & pronouns : cis woman , she / her . orientation : panromantic , pansexual . birthplace : ashemark , the westerlands . religion : faith of the seven . marital status : married . allegiance : herself .

personality.

positive : charming , clever , dtermined , independent , focused. negative : resentful , vindictive , obsessive , headstrong , secretive . astrological sign : virgo . moral alignment : chaotic neutral . temperament : melancholic . mbti : ENTJ ( the commander ) . enneagram : 1 ( the perfectionist ) . hobbies : cyvasse , playing music , needlework .

family.

father : lord tbd marbrand , ruling lord of ashemark . mother : lady myrielle marbrand , ruling lady of ashemark , deceased . step mother : lady tbd marbrand , ruling lady of ashemark , second wife to the ruling lord. siblings : lady tbd marbrand , younger sister ; lord jason marbrand , younger half - brother . spouse : tbd . others : tbd .

biography.

𝙰  𝚜𝚘𝚗 .  𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝  𝚠𝚊𝚜  𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 .

But  Aelinor  was  not  born  a  son .  Instead ,  a  beautiful  and  silent  little  girl  came  into  the  world  as  Ruling  Lord  Marbrand’s  first  born . 

𝙷𝚎  𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍  𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍  𝚢𝚘𝚞 ,  𝙸  𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 .  𝙷𝚊𝚍  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 .

No  matter ,  the  little  lady  needed  not  her  father’s  love .  She  had  her  mother ,  she  had  her  septa ,  she  had  her  nurses .  Perhaps  not  all  of  them  loved  her  either ,  but  they  taught  her  and  fed  her  and  played  with  her  and  gave  her  all the  care  and  attention  a  girl  might  need  to  grow  into  a  proper  young  lady .

𝚈𝚎𝚝 ,  𝚊𝚝  𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎  𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 ,  𝚑𝚎  𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍  𝚘𝚞𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚊  𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝  𝚍𝚒𝚍  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗  𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 .

It  was  the  Lady  of  Catamere’s  idea .  The  young  lady  Jaehaera  needed  a  companion ,  and  if  the  Marbrands  had  already  provided  a  dragon  of  a  bride ,  why  should  they  not  provide  another  with  a  friend .  Their  house  was  already  at  odds  with  the  Lannisters ,  and  the  stronger  the  bond  of  the  Marbrands  to  the  Targaryens ,  the  less  risk  the  animosity  from  the  lions  of  the  rock  posed  to  them .

𝚂𝚘  𝚑𝚎  𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 ,  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑  𝚊  𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚢𝚎  𝚘𝚛  𝚊  𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 ,  𝚋𝚞𝚝  𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑  𝚊  𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚊𝚗  𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 .  𝙳𝚘  𝚖𝚎  𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍 .

And  proud  she  would  make  him .  At  first  the  friendship was  artificial ,  a  game  of  make  believe  in  which  Aelinor  acted  as  though  this  was  a  friend  she  had  chosen  for  herself  and  not  a  tool  to  use  for  her  house  and  her  own  gain .  Jaehaera  and  Aelinor .  Aelinor  and  Jaehaera .  Never  one  without  the  other .  Always  moving  as  a  unit . 

𝚂𝚑𝚎  𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚊  𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎  𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚑𝚊𝚍  𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 .  𝙰𝚗𝚍  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎  𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍  𝚝𝚘  𝚒𝚝 .

It  was  strange ,  at  first ,  but  what  had  been  an  act  quickly  became  an  undeniable  truth .  Jaehaera  and  Aelinor .  Aelinor  and  Jaehaera .  Friends  like  the  world  had  never  seen .  The  young  lady  of  Ashemark  found  a  true  kindred  soul  in  the  Targaryen lady .  It  was  a  love  that  not  even  the  gods  could  break .  It  was  blasphemy  to  think  that ,  and  much  more  so  to  say  it  out  loud  inside  the  Sept  of  Castamere .  At  the  time ,  Aelinor  truly  believed  it . 

𝙱𝚞𝚝  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜  𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎  𝚗𝚘  𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎  𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚢 .  𝚃𝚑𝚎  𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗  𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗  𝚠𝚊𝚜  𝚊𝚗  𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎 .  𝚈𝚘𝚞  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍  𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 .

The  unspeakable  event  left  her  rotten  inside .  It  costed  her  friend  an  eye  and  her  a  womb .  It  was  the  start  of  their  downfall .  Not  long  after ,  the  fire  that  had  so  warmly  lighted  the  love  between  them  began  to  burn  them  apart .  Jaehaera  and  Aelinor .  Aelinor  and  Jaehaera .  The  friends  that  were  no  more.

𝚈𝚘𝚞  𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍  𝚘𝚏  𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚘𝚗  𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 .  𝚆𝚑𝚢  𝚊𝚛𝚎  𝚢𝚘𝚞  𝚗𝚘𝚝  𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚗𝚘𝚠 ?

The  time  came  to  marry  and  marry  Aelinor  did .  With  no  sons  of  his  own ,  Lord  Marbrand  begrudgingly  welcomed  his  daughter  back  into  his  hearth  and  began  to  train  her  as  his  heir .   Aelinor ,  was  finally seen  by  her  father ,  she  was  held  by  her  husband ,  and  yet  her  dreams  stayed  full  of  blond  hair  catching  on  fire  and  turning  to  ashes  in  her  hands .

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚜  𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 ,  𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜  𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍  𝚝𝚘  𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙  𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚢𝚘𝚞 .

At  some  point  during  her  stay  in  Castamere ,  the  Lady  Myrielle  had  died .  Aelinor  had  shed  no  tears  as  she  prayed  for  her  mother’s  soul  at  the  feet  of  the  Stranger .  She  could  not  help  but  think  of  that  as  her  father  wed  another  woman .  She  had  not  grieved  her  mother ,  and  so  the  gods  punished  her  with  a  step  mother .  A  step  mother  that  gave  her  father  what  her  own  mother  couldn’t .  A  son .

𝙰  𝚜𝚘𝚗 .  𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝  𝚠𝚊𝚜  𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 .  𝙰𝚗𝚍  𝚗𝚘𝚠  𝚑𝚎  𝚑𝚊𝚍  𝚘𝚗𝚎 .

Aelinor  hated  the  boy  and  his  mother  from  the  very  moment  she  met  them .  Even  as  he  grew ,  Lord  Marbrand  didn’t  name  the  boy  his  heir  officially ,  but  Aelinor  could  feel  it  coming .  Long  ago ,  she  had  only  wanted  one  thing .  Jaehaera  and  Aelinor .  Aelinor  and  Jaehaera .  But  now  Ashemark  was  all  she  had  left . 

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 , 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 ? 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 . 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 .