#Hurray I did something I guess?

[bebescorpio]

Corejj has been guiding some of the best ADCs from Ruler, often known as one of the best ADCs in the world, to Doublelift, one of the GOATs of NA, and now to Yeon, someone who is sure to bring life back to North America. (I did an edit and I have zero clue what I'm doing someone help :D) @enarratives o/

[writing-for-life]

Sandman Sneak Peek Analysis

There is Brief Lives in this, but you’ll miss it if you blink…

Is everyone recovering? 🤣

So we obviously got our fill of thirst traps, but I wanted to analyse the sneak peek (click to watch) a bit more closely.

Many people were commenting they only see Season of Mists and Song of Orpheus in the clip, but I don’t think that’s true. We obviously don’t know what exactly they did to the arcs and what might have changed, but I still predict that the first batch will be Season of Mists and Brief Lives (with other stuff thrown in, I wrote about it here). [I think we also saw a clip from Thermidor in the sneak peek, and that Lady Johanna Constantine was in it, but that just as an aside.]

So let’s start with stills I think are definitely from

Brief Lives

I honestly think it’s this (they’re lighting his face from below for a campfire effect, there are candles etc):

Edit 22/09:

We sleuthed a bit more across several platforms, and some clever people pointed out this:

These two frames appear in different places of the sneak peak, so we can’t know for certain if they are from the same scene. It is possible though. And if they are: He is wearing his ruby on the one to the left. It’s hard to tell if it’s the same thing to the right, but it could be? If so, that would mean this could be from Song of Orpheus instead of Brief Lives.

He does wear a clasp in Brief Lives all the way through, so that’s also possible, but again: If these shots are from the same scene, which it honestly looks like, I’m now leaning towards Song of Orpheus, and this particular scene (there’s a fire there, too):

Plus, if you zoom in and squint really hard, he seems to be wearing something on his shoulder here, too:

What else?

We see Despair’s Realm. But we don’t in Season of Mists. So this is either Brief Lives, or they give us a bit of Three Septembers and a January (which I’d love tbh, but I’m not going to hold my breath).

Next:

I think this could be Ruby’s/Wanda’s death/the fire. It’s really hard to see, but that could be Indya Moore sleeping? Let me know what you think…

Then this one:

I bet my bottom dollar this is Suffragette City and Ishtar’s dance. Now, the bottom panel is a tricky one because in the sneak peek, it’s actually right after the shot of (presumed) Wanda, so my initial response was it’s the fire. But the curtains look exactly the same as in the one with Ishtar’s dance, plus I think the glass is also in both shots. Which makes me think they either just put those scenes randomly together in the clip despite them being separate, OR that they changed the arc a bit and pulled Wanda/Ruby and Ishtar’s dance together. Either way, we’re definitely in Brief Lives I think.

Over to…

Season of Mists

I cackled like a lunatic when I saw this. IYKYK, but I somehow didn’t expect them to give us that one. Hurray (or not, depending on whether you like spiders I guess 🤣)

Angels looking modern…

Shame really, I wouldn’t have minded a more comics accurate look, but hey. Also: Is that your man Edward, @marlowe-zara ? Hard to tell from this angle, but I think it could be?

That’s also Andre Flynn in the background (also an Angel then).

Shivering Jemmy with the balloon! 🎈 If she doesn’t dump it on Dream, I’m gonna riot!

These ones with Lucienne are hard to place, and they could be anything, but they somehow give me stronger Season of Mists than Brief Lives vibes, although both is possible.

I have a hunch it’s this one:

Then there’s naturally all the obvious stuff (Cluracan, Susano-o-No-Mikoto, the family dinner etc etc), but I don’t think I have to get into those because they jump out at us straightaway.

More in the realm of

Casting

I think that might be Ella Rumpf as Eurydice, @tickldpnk8 What do you think?

This is definitely Wil Coban, but who he? Fae (the ears suggest so much)?

So what’s everyone thinking?

[johnssilverhammer]

~ Continuation of Obsessive!John x fem!reader ~

(This don’t count as #3)

Suddenly you felt a hand grab our arm, you spun around in confusion to come face to face with John. He was a little flushed looking and made intense eye contact for a good 5 seconds when he broke the silence. “Im sorry for not answering, honestly. I’m so so sorry, y/n.” He said the words with such a sincerity that didn’t seem appropriate for the situation, I mean why was he apologizing like his life depended on it? You stammered out “Oh, well- hah. You’re fine John, there’s no need to be so sorry. I forgive you.” You tried not to seem freaked out and thankfully John was still staring, not noticing your tone. “That’s a relief, thank you for forgiving me, I won’t ignore you again I swear!” John smiled sheepishly and turned the arm holding to a handshake. You shook his hand and smiled back at him.

Just seeing you smiling back at him was like fireworks, he couldn’t get enough of it. “I better get going now, for real. Bye now Johnny!” You took your hand away and waved as you walked out the door. John felt like he was just ripped from heaven in that moment. As soon as you were out of site his heart felt vacant. He strolled back to the boys who were talking about something. John pressed his ear against the door and heard his name, he strained his ears to try and hear them better. “Lads, did anybody else notice how John was acting just then, when he ran after y/n and nearly scared the poor thing half to death?” He heard Ringo start. “Yea, it was pretty creepy if you ask me..I mean no offense y’know.” Paul added. No words could explain how pissed John was in that moment hearing his friends talk badly about him. ‘Creepy? As if..’ John thought as he walked in on George as he started saying something.

When John barged in their voices became hushed and then turned into silence. John walked over to his seat and picked back up his guitar he left lying when he ran to you, slightly side eyeing the boys. His face noid of expression. “Uhmm, shall we pick back up where we left off on boys?” Paul broke the silence. His attempt to cut through the tension filling the air. “Sure. Fine by me.” John shortly answered louder than he anticipated. Intimidating the rest of them. George and Ringo shared nervous glances between themselves.

*later that evening after practice hurray*

The rest of the practice went fairly well besides how quiet it was, other than the music of course, without John’s jokes, the laughter that ensued, the banter, and lively chatter. It was too awkward for anyone to really talk about something random when John heard the boys calling him creepy. Not to mention George getting his opinion interrupted by John walking in on them. John walked with his hands in his pockets, thinking of you still. He would hate to admit it out loud but you have taken his heart and is always on his mind. He was wandering down the street when he came across a little quaint pub. The smell of alcohol and tobacco was so alluring he just had to stop by.

The place wasn’t very nice but it wasn’t a pigsty exactly either. Not exactly his type of place but he’s gonna take what he can get at this point. John sat on the wobbly barstool taking it all in, his environment, the practice earlier, and his last interaction with you. How he missed it. He called over the bartender and ordered a Brandy Alexander, his go to drink. And maybe a shot or two..or four. The warm feeling of the drink entering his system reminded him of you in a cynical way. As he drowned himself in liquor, you were flooding his mind with every sip. The rest of the world seemed to slip away and was just him, the drinks, and his thoughts. To him what seemed like a good 30 minuets was actually 2 hours that slipped by. I guess when you’re daydreaming you really don’t keep track of time or how many you’ve downed. By the time he noticed most of the people gone or blacked out he took it upon himself to get out of there.

(Quick a/n sorry but why am I actually cooking? Hold up. Oh also I can’t for the life of me write drunk people so don’t cook me for how I write John speaking 😭)

The streetlight flicker as he made each sloppy step towards his house. Or what he thought was his house.

You are awoken to the sound of something down stairs, go groggily get up to go check whatever it is. You see a horrifying sight, a random figure trying to open your door. You try to get a better look at the person until you hear. “Ssstupid bloody thingg! Open on up door! LLet Johnny in -his house now!!” You recognize the voice as John, drunk obviously. Relief sets in. You open the door and he nearly falls on you, as he was putting all his weight onto the door trying to push it. “John! What are you doing here??” You whisper yell at the wobbly man. “Ttrying- to get home! But- wait.. why are you in my housee??” He says a little too loud for your liking, flailing his arms around trying to further prove his point. You ignore his fighting that he was in his home as you usher him to the couch. “Heyy! Put me in me- own bed!” He sluggishly said as he sat down on the plush couch. “Hush Johnny, calm down! It’s too late be be this loud..” You say as you try to call him down. You hear a sound of defeat. You turn around and head twoard the bathroom to get him a trash can so your carpenters don’t get ruined from vomit, hearing him speaking to himself slurring his words too much to hear. You make your way back to the living room and see him passed out.

*a day or two after*

Ever since John came bursting down your door that one night you’ve been noticing things missing or just in different places. You live alone so no one else could have moved the items but you. You start thinking you’ve gone crazy trying to keep track of everything incase it goes missing. Meanwhile your questioning of sanity, John has been having an active night-life. As he calls it. He comes to practices late saying that his alarm clock didn’t go off or he didn’t get much sleep the night before. All these excuses make Paul very curious as to what his friend is up to at night.

One night Paul decides to keep a close eye on Lennon after a practice to see, really what his plans are after hours. This day, John immediately went home after practice and stayed there till dark. Then Paul watched carefully from a patch of thick brush as John, dressed in all black, made his way toward your house. Paul couldn’t belief his eyes when as he watched John peered through your windows and climbed in. He was appalled at the sight of it.

(Another cliffhanger Ik buttttt I’m gonna write a George one like litteraly right after I post this so hurray) (uhh mb for the yappachino hahaha)

[ashley-kins]

Guys, I think I figured out how the scene will go:

Ashley feels sick in the car after 2+ weeks of Andrew and Ashley somehow in Decay getting together and having sex. How this happened is a mystery to us right now, but anyway, Ashley gets sick and asks Andrew to pull over to a gas station where she runs to the restroom. Andrew patiently waits as Ashley vomits her guts out. Suddenly, 2 officers come in. Andrew starts to have an internal panic attack knowing he possesses a stolen vehicle of a man he murdered and hides behind some shelves.

Ashley, not giving a fuck calls Andrew over to the restroom because she vomited on her hair and needs to clean it as well as the toilet not flushing. Andrew plays plumber while Ashley washes her hair. An officer curious about the noise comes to check on the siblings and sees this

The officer, probably grumbles about something and closes the door and goes back to his buddy. Meanwhile, Andrew and Ashley finish what they're doing and step outside the restroom. Andrew probably suggests to Ashley to get a pregnancy test. Which Ashley responds with "I'm not pregnant."

Andrew trying to be reasonable says something stupid like "c'mon, arguing is bad for the baby."

And that leads to this:

Andrew probably grabs a pregnancy test off the shelf before giving it to Ashley telling her "just take the stupid test. Okay? I'll be in the car."

Andrew waits in the car and Ashley comes back with guess what? A positive pregnancy test. Giving us this screenshot that might be showing the pregnancy test!

Andrew and Ashley probably start arguing which catches the officer's attention and he comes over to check on the siblings. Andrew rolls down the window and well we get this:

There's probably a 2-3 minute conversation that ends up getting the siblings out of the car and with the positive pregnancy test in mind we get this screenshot:

Showing the internal regret of Andrew for fucking his sister. Hurray. That's my personal thought of this lovely mess.

Oh, and did the siblings ever buy the test? Nope. That's why we get this ominous screenshot showing the camera in the gas station:

Anyway! Think I'm off the mark? Maybe. But, hey, we need to discuss this. Theorize about this. That one screenshot Nemlei provided us in the last Progress Report is surprisingly crucial to the story I'm pretty sure.

[miss-tarja]

The Immorality of Love (Pt. 5)

Duke! Miguel O'Hara x Courtesan! Reader

Warnings: Implicit classism, character introduction, mild sexual tension, emotional distress, Victorian Era Customs, tension, a dash of suspense.

Summary: Royals keep testing your patience.

Previous Series Masterlist

A/N: To inaugurate this new account, here's part 5 :'). Thanks for staying, and reading! Reblogs and comments much appreciated!

As soon as you stepped out of the carriage, a soft gust of wind caressed your skin, tickling the now standing hairs of your nape in a playful motion. You didn't know if it was mere anxiety or your brain playing tricks on you for it to believe you were in danger.

Miguel's hefty steps echoed behind you, crunching the gravel under his leather soles, but you were too deep in thought, admiring the view to notice him standing next to you. There was little that managed to surprise you in life, growing through hardships had desensitized your conscience to an extent, merely to protect your own sake, but the sight before your eyes forced you to keep quiet and behold the exquisite architecture in the area.

Royal Villas were something you and Aveline once fantasized of visiting, either from afar or from a formal invitation by one of their elite members. And now here you were, watching the staff neatly dressed in black and white and ruffles, running around with luggage and other activities through every corner your eyes managed to reach.

Crisp and perfectly symmetrical cut bushes adorned the main path leading to the two floored manor. Ivory statues were strategically put along the path with horses, soldiers, busts and other things you'd later have the time to properly take a look at whatever thing that came into view. But the fountain before you snatched all your attention in a go, adding the final touch to your awe and stealing your breath. If Miguel's property was beautiful, this one screamed power from every corner. It was royalty in its most natural form.

We did it Aveline

"Guess the prince outdid himself this time." Miguel's voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he offered his arm. You took it, naturally. Letting the staff to carry your luggage inside. Their looks and hushes increased when you touched Miguel, as if trying to pry every little secret from you with their keen gazes.

"Don't pay mind to them." Miguel adjusted his hat and you chuckled.

"Hard to not when I know I'm being watched."

You were sure that if allowed, you'd be interrogated by them until their curiosity was satisfied. But even so, they weren't the ones that worried you. A couple of men approached, looking like they were about to get photographed for a fine portrait. Neatly dressed with fine silk, cotton and linens, and lovely pretending smiles.

A blond with his hair slicked to the side, tall, muscly built with a soft face, laughed at whatever the lanky black man next to him spoke. His wick locks were slicked back, elegant and nattily combed in a bun without losing their rebel-ish look, a silent gasp escaped your mouth when you noticed a couple of piercings in his ears and face. Your back straightened as soon as Miguel moved towards them. A bold hand of his rested briefly ontop of your gloved ones, keeping an eye to the upcoming men.

"Relax. They're just spending the staying as well." He mumbled while tightening his grip on you for a couple of seconds. His warmth leaving your hand as soon as he reached for his hat and tipped it towards the young men.

The blond one smiled genuinely at Miguel and stretched his hand firmly.

"I couldn't believe my ears when Prince Harry said he'd invite you over, sir." The blond smacked gently the black man's stomach and beamed. "I told you he'd come!"

"Meaning more unnecessary time at the table to know more about the lad's life, hurray."

Miguel couldn't help but chuckle ever softly at the pierced man's smeering words, cause he spoke nothing but truths.

"This is Count Ben Reilly." Said man bowed elegantly and you returned the gesture, "And Baron Hobart Brown."

Even though you noticed the baron's lip twitching at his full given name, he just nodded your way. "Rather Hobie, my'lady."

"Violet Cain. Pleasure to meet you both." You bowed briefly and Miguel offered you his arm again.

"Is the round table gathered yet or there's people's still missing?" Miguel asked as you all walked towards the manor. The soft scent of flowers tickled your nose, filling your lungs with a much needed gulp of fresh air. City's life had been everything but suffocating and full of death, it's smell still lingered in your system.

"Some are coming, albeit later, but don't worry, sir. The Prince has made sure to have everyone comfortable this time. The renovations are done and there's much more space in the gardens." Ben spoke calmly, his smile never leaving his features that oddly, resembled lot of Count Peter. The only difference would be his hair color and the younger yet melancholic appearance.

"Speak of the devil and he shall apear." Mumbled Miguel as none other than the prince himself, Harry Osborn, walked down the stairs with a surprised beam in his face. You were about to bow but Miguel prevented you from such thing with a discreet shake of his head.

"Duke O'Hara! The man in the flesh!" Miguel bowed his head slightly and gave Harry a firm handshake, despite he upper royal attempting a hug on his end. "Good heavens, to who I must thank for you to showing up and grace us all with your presence?" His eyes immediately landed on you, raking you with his demanding stare from head to toes. "Who is this lovely woman, your grace?"

Miguel's countenance relaxed for a moment and gestured your way with a leather covered hand, "Lady Violet Cain, my companion, your highness."

Au contraire of Ben and Hobie, The prince took your gloved hand and kissed the back of your palm softly. His grip wasn't strong, neither weak. But rather a punctual amount of force enough to let you know he was in charge of all of it. Yet his lips remained a second too long on the gloved surface.

"A pleasure to meet you, my lady. If you are the one I must thank for having this hermit of a man in my little getaway, I think I might invite you often as well."

A polite and demure laugh left your lips. "Thank you for letting us stay, my lord. I'm sure these days will be worthwhile."

"We'll see about that, My lady. You see, your companion here never stays past two days, would you be so kind to help me make him abide the whole week?."

Miguel's nose flared, it could be mistaken as a chuckle, but the Duke knew better than to underestimate the prince's wit. It was his subtle way to order him to stay until the trip was done. Which meant a few obvious things, business and bad news.

"Of course, my lord."

With a smile, Prince Harry left. Leaving you alone with Miguel once more, but the pleasantries weren't done yet. The Duke introduced you to other people that gathered in the entrance, with disbelieving eyes at his mere presence. Some of them looked genuinely relieved to be there, as if also needing a change of pace and milieu, others just seized your every move, stalking each of your movements and words.

One in particular stood out from the rest. Dressed in dark colors, with platinum hair or white, you couldn't tell properly, combed into a stylish hairdo, and blue eyes, stalked you as Miguel introduced you to most except her. And just as she was about to introduce herself, Miguel shot her a brief glare, a clear sign to stay away, which earned him a discreet smirk from the white haired woman.

His hand on your lower back urged you to move towards the stairs before the questions from the other royals and their companions began, which you were grateful for. Their constant stalking didn't go unnocitced by neither of both, but it was a calculated risk you had forseen.

"A bit more and they strip me naked before them." You mumbled, walking with mechanical grace through the stairs and Miguel chuckled, letting the stares to follow you both. "Are they always this nosy?"

"Much worse than you think. Quick heads up." He opened the door of your shared room and let you in. "Try to keep it curt with the lady in black."

"Oh? Is she a past lover?" 

"Sorta." He removed his hat and coat, "My ex is currently moving out of my villa as we speak."

You shook off the shawl and sat in the nearest chair available. The room had a wonderful sight through the window, leaving the state's territory at your gaze's disposal. Gardens and a rose maze dressed up the left and your best guess of what could be the social areas remained to your right, full of trees and tables.

"Ah. Mine was found in the river after a couple days of not coming home."

Miguel's whole body stopped, his face tuned and contorted into a mildly disturbed stare your way, "What?" But deapanned while you tittered at his reaction.

"Works every damn time." You smiled but quickly gathered your bearings,"Who cut loose who?"

"She dumped me in my birthday, so... go figure. And did he? What happened?" Silence fell on your lips, but your eyes glinted with a mild and almost-there lick of sadness, but as quick as it came, it vanished with a deep sigh as you sat on the plush and expensive vanilla smelling loveseat.

"What did you do to get her spite like that? And nothing gruesome, that's sure."

"Didn't give her time. Was too busy with work." His brows puckered ever softly as he rested against a table and kept himself quiet. Urging you to speak through his silence. The brief yet intense exchange of stares was enough for you to smirk almost ironically.

"He just woke up one day and out of the blue decided that he could strive for something better. Guess the streets were rubbing too much on me for his likings."

"Where did you meet him?"

"On a dress factory I used to work at. He started courting me. We worked out for a bit, he tried to get me out of the streets, but there were bills to pay and none of us earned enough to live as we wanted."

"How long is a bit?"

"My, you're quite the curious man, your grace. I don't recall bringing this sort of personal approach in our contract."

He huffed while putting the heaviest luggage in your room. Although you got paired together, the room you were staying had separate accommodations. You on the right and Miguel to the left. The little living room with the chimney and the thick stony walls were the only thing separating you.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's a boring story, really."

"So you just spice it up by saying he got murdered?"

"Well, people are skeptical whenever a prostitute falls in love, they... tend to forget that we're humans too, but we're often vilified if we dare to feel beyond pleasure." You mumbled while straightening your cleavage, but his eyes remained in your face as you kept speaking, "For some reason there's a misconception that we can't fall under Cupid's radar, and whatever gesture we do remotely close to affection is thought out as of mere interest into our client's wallet."

"Pardon my prejudice, but isn't that true?" His head tilted

"It varies from woman to woman. Can't generalize. It's is true that I'm just there for my client's money. But playing such a cold and hollow-hearted game with the clientele, such as making them fall for me to get benefits, is where I draw a line."

"Well, at least I'm glad to know our intentions are laid out, Violet."

"Likewise. I like being straightforward with my sponsors. Saves lots of trouble. That's why I don't engage in intimate acts like kissing anyone in the mouth. That's too personal for my likings."

"Sounds like you're cautious."

"I rather the term selective. Not everyone is worth a kiss or worse. A heart."

"For how long did you last with him?"

"A year and couple of months."

"Isn't that more than enough time to get married and the like?"

"I know. But it didn't work out. Again, It's not for everyone. If it worked like that, many of us wouldn't be here in the first place. If you think about it, if we gathered all the people in the world and made the right questions, we'd find out that the times love has actually worked out for someone, is scarce, hence they'd be a minority."

His eyes darted with barely contained curiosity at your factual observations. His brain tingled for a bit with a rush of dopamine the more you spoke.

"And the rest a big majority playing pretend. Love is truly not for everyone and not everyone deserves it. But enough on the past. What the plans are for today?"

"Dinner is at 6. Don't change clothes, rest if you wish to."

"Yes, your grace."

"Please, call me Miguel."

"Wouldn't that be impolite to call you by your given name before royalty?" Your brows furrowed as you stood

"It'll make it more convincing." He shrugged, "I'll be in the other room, knock if you need something."

"Thanks, Miguel."

His eyes lingered for more than a couple of seconds before retiring for his chambers. The getaway had just begun, and so the tab for keeping his patience afloat.

The sun had died behind the never ending  dashing taints of yellow, pink and purple, leaving the room full of golden. A golden that poured onto your skin wherever it could reach, adding the perfect amount of Midas touch into your overall beauty.

Miguel had slipped in your room after knocking several times but heard no response, just to find you sleeping, something he noticed slipped from you often, not that he could reprove you from such thing, considering all things happening in your life. Sure, beautiful was one of the first things coming to his mind upon describing you, but the appeal seemed to enhance when you were fully rested.

Despite grief taking a hold on you. Your mood and eloquence improved, he also noticed. And now this. The sun painted your cheeks, part of your neck and the top of your cleavage, a subtle but ethereal sight. For once he took the time to admire the woman he had hired, to scrutiny you further and properly. The previous conversation and your insight about such intense feeling as love, had made his brain tingle in ways he only got whenever finding a good crossword in the newspaper.

It showed him another layer of you hidden within the hardened by grief exterior. A great conversationalist by nature when pressing the right buttons and asking the right questions.

His eyes raked over your breathing pattern. Calm, peaceful, and deep, like it would be the last proper sleep you'd ever have and you seized every chance you had. He knew much on the lifestyle your kin led, and wouldn't blame you for actually wanting to rest instead of entertaining him. But you also needed to eat, cause although having a break was good, so was not starving youself. And he was sure your body would need it after spending most of the evening in doze off mode.

So here he was, too enraptured in the sight before him and his thoughts that forgot his reason to invade your privacy in the first place. A maid had been kind enough to announce him that dinner was ready. And it was the perfect excuse for you to learn a few quick things before anything else happened, but also have your perspective on things he'd ask later. A lingering tingle roamed his brain and his lips pulled in an invisible smile.

"Violet." He called and no response.

It was almost heartbreaking to interrupt your sleep, but if you kept it going, that would only make him more suspicious on your health. He made a mental note to recommend you to his personal doctor later. Sadly he couldn't cure the wounds the mourning left recently on you, but he could make the ache less heavy and wounding.

"Violet." He called again, shaking you gently by your shoulders, and his breath caught in his throat when your eyes fluttered open, slowly to finally widen, startled.

"My goodness..." Your hand curled on your chest, trying to soothe the sudden alert that jolted you awake. Miguel's hands rose in defense as he backed up a step. "You startled me."

What horrors plagued your mind despite the good rest? Which misfortune hunted your mind to the point of shutting your brain off to avoid the constant feeling of it? What exactly had happened way back before you went to his home? What had you seen?

His eyes blinked away and left space for you to sit down.

"My apologies, dinner is ready."

"I'm not hungry" You shook your head and fluffed out the pillow as if readying it for a round two of sleep.

"Violet." the implicit warning in his tone made you sigh.

"I swear, my lord. I'm not. I'm just tired."

Saddened actually.

But such thought wasn't leaving your mouth, ironically, you were tired of feeling grief and loss to obsess over you, making you their main target from quite the while now. And they often left you exhausted. Yet Miguel understood, or at least had the vague idea of what grieving looked and felt like. His mother's burial service was a good example of it.

All he wanted to do was sleep, drink or bury himself into work, despite the stormy and tumultuous relationship with Conchata. Despite the years of suffering and carrying the burden of being her son. Conchata was known for being a firm and selective woman that tended her hand only to those that deemed worthy of it, often neglecting the outer districts. A mess he was set into fix one way or another.

"You'll feel even worse if you don't eat something. I'll tell the maids to bring our food."

"Wouldn't that bring you trouble? Skipping meals with them, I mean."

"My presence here is more than enough for them, and since everyone is either holed up or also tired, the dining hall will be empty. And I've got to show you some other things for you to get familiar with."

With a groan, you lifted your upper torso to sit down and sighed, "Hasn't it been enough etiquette by now?"

"It's not etiquette. A tour. So you need energies for it as I expect you to attend." His fingers fiddled with his sleeves, rolling them up, offering you the sight of his well worked forearms.

"Or... let's eat here and we figure out what to do later."

"Dios mio, qué terca eres. But let's make it your way for this time, Violet." (God, you're so stubborn)

"If it was my way completely, we wouldn't be talking. Don't get me wrong, your... Miguel." You corrected and cleared your throat. "I'm not a fan of feeling I'm not properly winning my money."

"That can be arranged. You said others my age talked with you. So, humor me. Let's talk."

Your brow tilted, confused as he took a brief break to ask for the food to the nearby maid he found in the hall, then returned before you.

"You want... to talk." A fleeting shrug shrunk his shoulders in response, "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Yourself. For example, you seem to be quite smart." Your brow furrowed at his phrasing and he pinched his nosebridge at your sudden discomfort, "I-I'm not saying you're not smart, just-" That earned a giggle from you.

"Tell me something. How long have you been without company? Like, talked to a woman beyond formalities and thigs like that?" You stood and approached him, the hem of your skirt swayed back and forth as you walked. His lip pursed in a mild scowl and his eyes darted away, avoiding meeting your scrutinizing gaze, ashamed enough for his silence to be the answer." Yeah, I thought so."

You circled him, evaluating his tense form with critical eyes, grazing your fingers to wherever surface they could reach, sensing how he tensed and jerked under your touch, how his fingers twitched upon feeling the warmth you delivered in spirited strokes, "Ironically your...  attentions on that night we first met dictated the opposite."

The batting of your lashes and your palms resting on his middle torso had his throat bobbing ever softly, almost imperceptibly as he seized you from the corner of his eyes. His ears however turned the softest shades of pink upon your observation, not fond of being exposed easily. You on the other hand, didn't want to reminisce in your most recent life changing events and mourning, too exhausted and drained to dwell into them, so causing an inner havoc in him was your best interest at the moment. He amused you.

"A good job, I suppose?" His eyes twinkled with a subtle thrill despite his eyes remaining in faux boredom when you smirked.

"The best one so far."

And that was enough to crack his facade and have his magnetic eyes rake your form before giving you a little smile as he tipped your chin upwards, clashing your gaze against his persistent one. A rush of expectation soared through your body, making your lips part with a silent sigh of anticipation.

"You got a fascinating way to curl around the truth, Florecita." He chuckled when your eyes furrowed softly at the nickname, "But we're talking about you. Not me." (Little flower)

Your eyes rolled, disappointed he didn't followed your coquetry, "That's a shame, cause I've got nothing much to talk about."

"Didn't have you for a liar, Violet." It was his turn to smirk.

Your jaw clenched as you removed yourself from his touch, your eyes not leaving him for a second, a curious glint shadowed them. How dared he to pry even further into your already cracked walls? Moreover, how dared he to care? But a job was  job, and you were here for work. He was your ticket to a new life after all. 

"I think I might like that tour now."

A chuckle was everything that left his mouth, although he was set into pulling some information about you, he rather get the walk. Something was better than nothing. The room reminded him of his own back at Babylon Manor. A bit too claustrophobic for his likings.

"Let's eat first, and then we'll go."

"Yes, sir."

The long halls of the property stretched into neverending doors containing room after room. If you had counted ten, you had barely started. It gave you a wider picture as to why you had seen more staff members than royalty itself. Miguel had shown you a bit of important places.

The entertaining room, with a bunch of books and chairs scattered around, the pool room where men gathered to smoke and drink. The projection room where you probably watch a bunch of pictures taken all over the world. And of course, the rose maze. A place where most loved to get lost to purposely not be found.

The other royals remained on their rooms, others were in the dining hall, having their dinner after a couple of drinks to warm up their expensive bellies. A couple of heedless moans echoed from prince Harry's room as you passed underneath his balcony.

"Is he always like this?" Your nose scrunched in disbelief

"A day where he isn't fucking you'll know some thing's wrong with him." He huffed and turned to the left. A gust of wind hit you with the delicate smell of roses. "Don't indulge him too much with conversations. Actually? don't give him a chance to think you're here to sleep with him."

"Oh heavens, no." Your nose scrunched up again, but this time in disgust," I actually pass opportunities to sleep with royals whenever I can. Dumb for so many, but I like keeping myself alive, and clean." 

"Why didn't you skip the chance with me, then? And clean?" His brow rose with clear interest  as you walked next to him.

"We're both getting what we want. Simple as that. And, you're the most bearable royal I've ever met. Same for Count Peter." You shrugged, "And yes, clean. Most of you lot love to sleep with whatever crosses your way, often hiding diseases, plus not all prostitutes offer protection, so do the math."

He hummed in response as he took you to the fountain areas. The more you ventured with him, the more your admiration for the place and his bravery to mingle with such people increased. However before you could even express such a thing, his eyes were already settled in the main gates. Open, bustling with the staff and a familiar figure stepping out of the carriage.

"Come."

He pulled your hand and guided you through hasty steps, turning and swirling you through the maze. His sudden urge to leave had your mind swirling in a hurricane of racing thoughts and warnings.

"Wait! Miguel!" You mumbled, trying to match his speed, eventually lagging, unable to hold his pace. Until his steps got lost through the place. You didn't know what had came over him, or who had arrived to have him in such a rush, but it didn't matter, not when he had left you stranded in the middle of the maze.

You idiot! Wait for me!

In a final attempt to reach for him, you turned to where it was your best guess of his direction, only to end up in the beginning of the maze. It wasn't the direction you wanted, but the discomfit of being alone in a place you didn't know wasn't an option. Your heart hammered in your ribcage as your head swirled with thoughts, trying to organize them.

First thing first, you needed to find Miguel. The obstacle? Not a single soul passed in the maze yet. Meaning, you'd have to go back. It was one of the few things your mother taught you when little.

Always go back to where you came if you find yourself lost.

Either allegorical or literal, it was a good advice, so you traced back your steps and entered the east wing of the manor. The ivory statues would lead you to the main rooms, and hopefully you'd find a maid to get you back to Miguel's room.

A turn here, and many posh and romantic paintings later, you ended up in the south wing. The opposite of where you needed to go. You removed your gloves as they felt too hot and heavy on your sweaty hands and dried your forehead with them, then walked towards a hall, leading to yet another long hall.

I'm so charging him extra for dumping me there and not even taking a chance to wait for me.

Your steps echoed through the desolated space, advancing further into the depths of the unknown and guarded.

Idiot.

With a huff you increased your feet's tempo only to abruptly stop when a door closed behind you, loud enough for you to turn around and see none but the woman Miguel warned you about, holding the doorknob and watching you with feline narrowed eyes.

Your throat swallowed in discomfort, not because of her obvious scrutiny, but the nature of the situation. There was a reason why Miguel skipped introducing her, a reason, you didn't feel brave enough to find out but life had interesting ways to make you face either your fears or reinforce your mettle. But this surely would bring you a bad taste of mouth.

"Are you lost, my lady?" The soft spoken and borderline sultry voice of the white haired woman echoed through the halls, addressing you directly.

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, turning to face her completely.

"It's alright, dear. New companies always get lost. A shame for the Duke, to leave you like this on your own. Come."

Your brow rose in a lick of suspicion as she offered her black gloved hand.

"As much as I appreciate your help, lady... -"

"Hardy. Lady Felicia Hardy, Countess of Queens."

"My lady" You corrected yourself, but didn't bow, "I don't wish to interrupt any of your time. Could you tell me which direction I must go?"

"Well, it all depends, dear. Who are you looking for?" That dear in her mouth came out with the same mockery you used whenever treating with unwanted customers. "The Duke, or the prince perhaps?"

Excuse me?

"Why would I go with the prince if I came with the Duke?" Your brows furrowed, "And for what I managed to hear, the prince is busy."

"Oh. My apologies, I sometimes forget that not all new companies the men bring in, are meant to be shared."

Bitch.

"Seems it's something you've learned from experience, Lady Hardy."

Her jaw clenched, although you had bit her bait, evidently it had backfired, but even in her defeat, Lady Felicia could only smirk. Glad to have a taste of your temper.

"Experience shapes us. It molds us. And it also teaches, to keep our tongue in place."

"Seems we both need to keep learning that advice, My lady."

A haughty huff flew out of her tiny nose, "Believe me, it's not proper of me to come out of character like this before anyone in particular. Just find some... situations less tolerable than others."

"Either for good or bad, it's always an honor to witness the real deal underneath titles."

"Real deal? Ah..." Felicia smirked, as if instantly recognizing your pedigree. "I apologize, I find myself amused that this castle has seen a bit of everything. The standards have taken such a downgrade that, it feels as if the populace have invested themselves with the belief of being our equals."

"Oh, heavens forbid so, My lady. I couldn't sleep at night knowing that I'm not only not contributing to the people, but also leeching off them."

The smirk vanished from Felicia and her eyes turned sneering and demeaning, but the features were quickly washed away when familiar heavy steps filled in the empty hall behind you both. Each step carried a good load of anger, mixed with the evident wary in his brown eyes as he watched the two sides of society clashing together. He had heard the last bit, you having the upper hand effortlessly, and it was enough to know it would end up in a bloody disaster.

"Violet." He called and you turned, his hardened eyes did nothing but to get a scowl from your face. "Let's go to our chambers."

"How improper of you, Duke O'Hara. Not introducing us before. Miss Violet has proved to be... quite the company."

The way your name came out from her mouth gave you nothing but an uncomfortable crawl in your spine. But the anger slipped in her aristocratic bones the more the Duke ignored her, he didn't even glance her way, rather pulled you away from any further verbal spar between, and as If dreading you'd slip away again, he hooked your hand around his arm and squeezed it gentle but firmly. Trapping it against his body and securing your place next to his.

If his intentions were that the white haired and uncouth woman to watch the exchange between you, and make his point across of not wanting any sort of contact to be clear, he didn't have to worry about it. Felicia turned from where she came from and slammed the door loud enough to make Miguel sigh as you both scurried away from her.

Your eyes shot him brief glances, and found nothing but his jaw clenching and loosening with the myriad of thoughts that flashed before his brain. In a few turns and steps, you both entered in the exquisite privacy of your chambers. Your hand, instantly released while his landed a bit too tight on his narrow waist, anchoring and leveling his frustration.

"I told you to keep the interactions to the bare minimum, Violet." He waved a warning finger and his patronizing words had your brows frowning, irritated again.

"You say so like I purposely lagged behind! You left me on the maze! I don't know this place and naturally I'd get lost! And that bitch started!"

"I know! But you're not here to amuse her, Violet. If I'm telling you to keep yourself away from her is because she's not worth the trouble." His hands stressed the last syllables

"Like if I want to be around that woman! I. Got. Lost. Because someone ran too fucking fast in place that I barely know and now I probably have my head demanded on a plate by her."

"You're exaggerating-"

Your eyes flashed, "Say that one more time, I swear I pack my stuff and leave you here."

The clash between both amused and asphyxiated him equally, but a different kind of crawl ran down his spine when his eyes took in the anger and indignation oozing from every pore of you, the way your bravery soaked in every word it came out that pretty mouth of yours. And when you hand gestured to make emphasis in the place, he gulped, as if hypnotized, not because the firm threat you just gave him, but the actual nerve you had to do such thing. Thrilling and pleasing despite the twisted situation you both were in.

He had made the right choice after all, and every problem and obstacle to convince you, was beyond rewarding.

"My apologies, Florecita."

Your glare didn't waver, and he stepped in closer, his frame casting a faint shadow over yours. His eyes took in as much as he could, stopping for a second longer on your cleavage and neck, then your lips, that curled with the softest of smirks as you stepped closer, pawing at the wolf's whiskers to see how would it react.

"What did she say?" But he spun you around and didn't waste time to get a hold of the loose laces behind your corset. All the running and turning had loosened them up, and he, the gentleman he was, couldn't leave them like that. Plus it was the perfect chance to distract his racing mind, despite your obvious frustration at his mixed signals.

"Nothing I haven't heard before." You swayed with every pull of the corset and the laces he gave you. "Slow down, my lord. If you want me in your bed just say so."

A chuckle escaped his mouth as his hands worked through the tanglement of laces in a more mannered and slow motion. His mind commanded his brain to act properly.

"The only truth is that you do need to lay, but to rest. We're getting early tomorrow, and please." He pulled the corset in a go leaving the underlayers at his sight," Wear something sporty. It's activity day."

"I'm not curious enough to ask what kind of things you royals do. So thanks for the actual heads up, My lord."

"Miguel." He corrected and you smirked.

"As you wish, sir." You were about to bow to him with evident mockery, but the door shook softly with a knock.

"Miguel, are you there?"

Peter's voice echoed behind it and the duke sighed.

"Peter arrived earlier than expected, so my apologies for leaving you back in the maze."

"You should've hired him instead, my lord." The mockery in your voice earned him a playful scoff

"And give everyone a new reason to gossip? I don't think so. I have enough as it is."

With a giggle you walked to your side of the shared room. "The I bid you a good night, Miguel. Wake me up tomorrow if I don't answer right away."

His eyes remained in the closing door that clicked once you were inside, but another knock snapped him out of his brief trance

"Ya voy." (Coming)

Peter's brow quirked when his sight landed on Miguel's hand. Your corset, scrunched up and snug in his hand, absorbing whatever heat your body left behind, freshly pried away from you.

"I can return later when you're done." the Count offered and Miguel's eyes rolled and opened the door wider for him to enter.

"She's resting, come in."

"Miss Violet seems to be quite compliant." Peter removed his hat and let Miguel to lock the door behind them. 

"At all. She's actually more than what I bargained for initially." He made a gesture to Peter and his friend followed him to his room, taking a proper seat before him.

"And that's a good? Bad thing?"

"Still debating on it. Told her to not come close to Felicia, first thing she does when I'm not looking is getting on that wretched woman's nerves." Miguel silenced Peter as he was about to speak, concern too ugly in his face, "But it was my fault. Left her on the maze to fetch you."

"I'll apologize to her tomorrow. Felicia is...-"

"Yeah. A pain in the ass I can't get rid of, sadly." The duke poured a glass of whiskey for each and gave Peter his.

"Seems you breaking off the engagement back then didn't suit her well."

"Not my problem. She was everything but helpful, can't drag deadweight with me, much less in my duties." 

"Speaking of which... there is something you must see." Peter took a swig of the drink and pulled a small yellow envelope and handed it to him, it's weight a tad hefty than anticipated.

Miguel's eyes instantly devoured the information scribbled on the outside, with a frown as the police signatures and stamps were in every paper he managed to see inside.

"What is this?" The Duke pulled out and flipped the assortment of pages and read as much as he could, skimming through them.

"Police reports, Lyla sends them. Not good news." Peter's face sombered as he took the most recent report. The name Susan Lewis caught all Miguel's attention.

"The woman was a respected courtesan, she ran two of the main brothels in Brasswood Avenue. Had been around for more than a decade in the business."

"Violet knew her." the Duke frowned 

"Yeah. Which reminds me to also tell you, Lyla might need a word or two with Miss Violet to add to Lewis's case."

"She doesn't trust the police, Peter."

"You'll have to convince her one way or another. There's a... there's a killer on the loose." Peter swallowed the uncomfortable knot in his throat, "Susan was the third victim, apparently it's the same modus operandi, multiple stabs, throat sliced and bodies left in the open."

Miguel had to rub his face to wash a bit of the sudden stress and load put on his shoulders. Part of being a Duke was to see for the people's needs, part of the mess Conchata never cared enough to fix, and when he was named Duke, the first thing he swore was to get some sense of safety back to the least fortunate. Cause even him dreaded at times to come out his manor or work.

But this only confirmed his worst suspicions, a killer in the loose targeting women? Unacceptable. There were enough risks as they were to add a dangerous and unhinged man roaming free on streets to the list of things that troubled him and the people. But more importantly, how would you take such news?

"I'll see to it."

Taglist:

Taglist:

@miss-canon-event @sweetorangeblossom @peachey-pie @del-ightfulling @ladymoztaza @tinybirdhideout @ohara-whore @obsessgurlll @freehentai @toobular @crybabiix @fullmetalgizzy @ranzilly @happyowlsoul @unadulteratedeaglecollection @deepchildninja @readinghoes @nediks @weeaboochan @deputy-videogamer @thelovewitchesbrew @miggy-joon2094 @oikiwiss @1sun-vixen @stabygabby @brucebannerswifey @strawberryzuzuu @sarahth2 @g1icino11a @traash-ratt @moonlightvaleria @emelie-s-h @marzzrambles @library-lunatic @sleepysharky @watertribeissuperior

[castleinthemist]

OK finished misericorde vol.2 and been able to sit with some of it for periods in-between play that's allowed me to stew on it. This is going to be a messy collection of thoughts mostly due to the nature of this vol. Yeah spoilers ahoy of course i'll try my best not to reveal the final twist though

So, as i've already said, the music is so good. If the dev grew in confidence over the course of composing for the first volume, that confidence is back in full swing for a really cohesive and deeply enjoyable round 2.

Many times i've wanted to liveblog moments as a reaction but i really wanted to forgoe liveblogging it, even if i did end up having some parts.I think my more severe responses to moments haven't been posted up yet so

can we talk about angela and hedwig i have been fucking dying to talk about them and their whole situation they have trusted themselves into (but in hedwig's case maybe not fully understood). Like. Angela just coming out swinging in this almost hypocritical fashion of 'hey these women are just going to use you for your body as a cheap game they started with catherine and I (unlike them) will give you what you desire but dole it out in measured ways to you because i am above that while i see a self in you i am not like that nor will i treat you like that' and it's fucking WILD. it's wild. it's so juicy both for the interpersonal relationship and the mostly implied or unsaid aspect of that but also yeah woo yeahh woo nun yuri like in a way i guess she has actually perhaps fallen for hedwig (hurray for her pathetic demeanor being utterly captivating) as we can surmise from her pain near the end (oh am i going to lap up whatever drama comes between these two in vol.3) BUT LIKE IT BEING BUILT UPON each other trusting their judgement, it's so good, so good she had hedwig on a fucking leash, that knife turned her on or whatever, the butt flash? prepared to keep her under her sway like it doesn't even feel devious, perhaps it starts off as just keeping her in check but damn. goddam. it's hot it's really fuckign great character writing, the pain hedwig feels over the whole thing, conflicted through her faith and understanding of it (aquinas says it's sinful. hildergaard says it's sinful < LIKE AAAAAUUUUHGHH) AND THIS:

That isn't even all i could get into the whole 'hedwig realising she's a lesbian thing' but there is much there that could be discussed and i am far too tired to get into the weeds of it, and ill equipped to boot to really figure out how i'd want to talk about it too.

anyway

THEY JUST FUCKING DROP that catherine was stabbed twice before death. HELLO?? i feel like hearing that information rejigged something in my brain...was it mentioned in vol.1 at some point? i wouldn't put it past myself to believe that hedwig did forget that information but like. it severely narrowed down suspects to the obvious nun who wields and dagger and knows very well how to use it. except. well. eustace was always right.

unrelated but laughing at moira just dropping she absolutely knows how to cleanly cut of limbs and she says this as lightly as one might ask about the weather. excellent stuff and if i was to still suspect anyone, that at the very least had me still suspecting her up until tatiana spoiled the fun (hehe)

THE EYES THE EEEEEYYYYYYYESSSS did vol.1 have eyes...i feel like it might've. the fact they only start appearing AFTER hedwigs uh...trip? i guess we'll call it. Is it like. symbolism of voyeurism? her exhibitionist habits shes developing? someone looking at the narration? something haunting the space? the words? the fact that only we (the audience) can see these things. tatiana having no eyes revealed but the world being covered in eyes? the general effect of hedwig being overwhelmed by everything new and being observed as part of that? It comes and goes and i have to wonder what is the "trigger" for it because one scene will fade it in and another might have it for a few backgrounds then none at all.

There's many small things i've tried to keep mental notes on: eustace knowing what hedwig's whole anchoress deal is, the reaction the bishop had at the end 'you are here to keep the devils at bay' or something...? hedwig's whole...other self that manifests after her trip...the way hedwig reacted to words of the scripture/rights (fainting again...much like in vol.1? there is something to that perhaps).

i think there are things earlier on i may have forgotten that i wanted to talk about but ah well. the latter half of the game sticks in my mind more. Was glad to get more margaret in this one she feels the most elusive and hardest to grasp of the lot. Oh i guess the mention of catherine having really red hair strikes me as particular but hmm not sure what to make of it.

i suppose my biggest question isn't what's going on with our mystery narrators/editors (hehe) but rather...who was hedwig telling this story to?

EDIT: FORGOT about the swordfucking. amazing stuff. holy shit.

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 18th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Hey y’all! This winter season for me is suuuuuper hot. Currently it’s like 20 C which is absolutely insane! I guess there won’t be a white Christmas this year(just like every other year). In November it was super cold, getting down to maybeee -1 C which again, still isn’t THAT cold but for here it very much is! Anyways I won’t keep ya here long so here is the invite post if you need a  reminder of the rules and here are the prompts I’ll be using today!!!

Prompts used:

Narration: Light fought the dark, and finally, dawn broke.

Setting:  A home + Emptiness

Hurray! More Melinaaaa. WOW! 2 boss bitches who run towns in a row!? It really is Christmas! It’s too bad Melina doesn’t care about the people of Elares or just anything there in general. Like at all. Especially the prison. ANYWAYYY. I’m going pretty far back into her past for this one, and shedding some light on her ambition for getting the fame and power(that of which she wasn’t given by being born) before she gave it all up a few writemasses ago. Hope y’all enjoy younger Melina and the cunning little rat bastard she is. :). She might just learn from her mistakes one day in the future, wink wink.

Read about the WIP here!!

Hope ya enjoy!!

------------------------------

Melina popped open another bottle of alcohol to celebrate such a momentous occasion. It wasn’t every day that you sign a deal that large. Well, maybe for Melina it was.

Taking a sip from the burning dark blue liquid filled her with as much warmness as the satisfaction from getting just a little more into her grasp. She sat down on top of the desk and picked up the parchment papers to stare at the contract drawn. Right there in ink stated all of the words she needed to hear. It was hers, all hers. Completely. She could just kiss the paper, she was so happy. 

Oh, so much money! Just for a few senseless crooks. I could bathe in gold for years on this.

“Such a pleasure to do business with you. Now, I must get back to work. I’m a very busy woman.” Melina said as she ushered the well-armored man out of her office, throwing the door back onto its hinges before he could even open his mouth to say more. He didn’t mean anything now.

Hurrying back inside her room and looking out the intricately stained window, she watched over the hard at work city. Her empire. She had great plans for it. And now that she signed that deal with those shiny, Haukrosen living, castle dwelling, used to the heat, Queen-ass-kissing magic freaks to hand over all of the prisoners held within Elares, effectively dissolving the founding principles her family based the city on, she can bask in all the future glory it will generate for her. So, in her room, devoid of anything else, she stood alone to see the light creep onto the city’s streets, solely responsible for it’s existence. Without her, they were lost, and completely nothing, just fools who lived under another fool’s law. 

Light fought the dark, and finally, dawn broke. Across the horizon of Elares came new plans, huge plans. Melina was quite happy to be their benevolent mayor. She was executing the will of the people by transporting those criminals to the capitol. They always wanted for her to remove the prisons and free the people inside, that is specifically why she campaigned for it in her reelection. Melina did exactly what they asked, she freed them from damnation in the Elares prisons. She giddily poured another drink and watched the reflection of the city expand, refracting its silhouette into something better. For her own pleasure. And taking another sip of the drink was just another dip into the pool of greed she created for herself from the tears of others.

For a second, emptiness left the room. But it always comes back, starving for more. Melina knew it.

------------------------------

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

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Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[melanieph321]

heyy i love your writing and just wanted to say i appreciate your work💖

my request is something like you are best friends with fermin (or gavi) and he’s madly in love with you but you don’t know about it so when you start seeing someone (possibly another footballer) he gets jealous and does something outrageous like posts a story with a photo of yours which is odd considering he’s never done it before and the person you’re seeing gets mad and you also get mad because it’s obvious he’s doing it for another reason and have an argument with him when he confesses his true feelings in a moment of weakness which causes you to take a step back but you soon realize you’re actually more into him than you knew and go to him late at night and make out

i don’t know if this is something you’d be interested in but i’d love to read it

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUEST (DAY 2)

Ugh, I hate you for making such a good request. Took me all day to finish this. And I had to make it a four part series since I put my own spin on it. Hope that's okay.

Fermin Lopez x Reader - You or Me Part 1/4

Part 2 part 3 part 4

Enjoy!

It was just a silly youth camp for all the Barca Academy's boys and girls. How it turned out so ugly, you had no idea.

It was a Friday morning when all of the players were put on a bus to a Boot Camp four hours outside of Barcelona. You were thankful that the academy boys did not share the same bus as the girls, but trailed in their own vehicle not too far behind. However it was bound to get messy at the camp grounds since the girls and boys were sharing the same hotel.

"Who are you texting?" Camilla asked.

"No one." You muttered, but nudged your phone out of her view.

"Come on, don't be shy, tell me who you're texting."

You perked up, peering over your seat to make sure that none of the other players could hear you. "Okay but promise not to tell anyone." 

"I promise." She grinned, giddy with excitement.

"Alejandro Garnacho."

"What! You little…"

"Shhhhh!" You exclaimed, slapping your hand against Camilla's mouth. However, 

that did not stop her from running her mouth behind the palm of your hand.  

"Huh?" You frowned, her mumbles inaudible. You removed your hand.

"I said, doesn't he have a girlfriend now?"

"And a baby." You nodded.

Camila gasped. "You slut!" 

"Relax." You said, leaning back in your seat. "We're just friends and you know that. We've been friends forever."

"Yes, but before that you had the biggest crush on him, no?"

"Yes, but that's in the past. He's happy in England with his new family. I told you about last summer, didn't I? Garnacho and his girlfriend let me stay with them while I was over there trying out for Manchester United's U21 youth team. Garnacho and I have become really close since then. Close friends." You added, before Camilla could call you a slut again. 

The two of you sat back in silence. The road ahead was bumpy and almost made you car sick. Good thing you and Camilla were seated up front where you could see the road. You dreaded sitting in the back, since some of the girls thought it would be funny to make faces at the boys bus trailing behind you. They were having a laugh, however you found it very annoying.

"Did you hear that Fermin and Gavi are joining us on Saturday?" Camilla said.

"Hurray….." You mumbled and kept scrolling through your phone.

"I know." She snorted. "They've gotten pretty stuck up since they started playing for the first team, but I've heard that they're holding a seminar on mental health. It could be fun?"

"Mental health?" You put down your phone to glance at Camilla. Her lips twitched into a smile seeing your not-so-convinced expression. "I know Fermin Lopez of all people is not holding a seminar on mental health." you laughed. "That boy has caused me nothing but severe anxiety and depression and now he wants to talk about mental health? I guess pigs do fly."

"I dunno." Camilla shrugged. "Don't you think he has matured since he started playing for the first team? I know Gavi has."

"Please, don't get me started on Pablo Gavi." You sighed. "Fermin and Gavi were the worst of the worst when they were playing for the academy. Don't you remember Boot Camp 2019?"

Camilla chuckled. "Whatever you say. I for one am excited."

And she had the right to be. No one enjoyed drama more than Camilla. This year's Boot Camp had nothing but drama.

Part 2

Part 3

part 4

[jiubilant]

1, 5, and 10 for kur and wit :)

HURRAY 💖 the terrible two

1. What was the original thought that led to the creation of these characters?

i threw a lot of ideas at the wall when it came to settling on a nerevarine character concept—nothing stuck until i started posting about the urshilaku practice of training cliff racers to hunt game + thought "what sort of steel does it take to reach into a cliff racer's nest and pluck out a hatchling to tame" + kur started manifesting in my mind. then gf got me to read some le carre and it clicked for me that the nerevarine's a spy and a plant + that i could do something fun with a grizzled ex-legionary, ex-intelligence agent who gets swept into playing one last long game (and, for her own purposes, intends to win)

wit exists because i wanted someone to journey alongside kur and bicker with her :) he's a false incarnate but he would never guess it and neither would anyone else. if someone told him that he had to try to fulfill the nerevarine prophecy he really would board the first ship to akavir

5. How did you choose their names and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind their names? Are the reasons behind their names different in- and out-of-universe?

kur: i came up with her name by looking at the urshilaku names listed on uesp. she shares it with a medicinal plant—i think i mentioned wit using it in the piece about him treating the asthmatic child

wit: the name 'surriwit' just popped into my mind and i thought it was cute so i gave it to a crusty old crank

10. What is their main character arc in the story? Where do they start and how do they develop? Do they get a happy ending or is their story a tragic one?

it boils down to kur figuring out how and where to find peace and fulfillment (incarnating an ancient warlord and killing gods doesn't actually help with this...time for plan b) and wit figuring out how to open his heart a little—he's poisonously bitter and cynical but he's had good reason to be. i actually haven't decided whether he lives or dies yet. vote now on your phones

[aspd-culture]

I guess this is a vent?

I don't like doing these things on my blog because what if I ruin my perfect little persona that I've built up for so long, lol.

Anyway.. no matter what I do, when I talk to my partner (they are heavily prosocial. Like.. heightened emotions and empathy, very charismatic and sensitive, SUPER aware of his enotions and everyone elses, too.) about symptoms and sometimes even just the way I see people in general the way that they react.. it worries me that he's scared of me.

I guess I can see why? I mean, I can't have my mother constantly telling me how bad of a person I am and how she's worried I'm going to do something horrible because of the way I act and not associate that with the way every other person see me. (Hurray for being conditioned to think every person is going to think I'm a bad person)

I know that my partner loves me, I know that he knows that I have ASPD and doesn't hold it against me, but I can't help being so livid at myself for scaring him.. for making him worry. They're such a sweet person that it's exhausting sometimes, but honestly, that helps me feel like he wouldn't lie to me. Sometimes I just wish he would. I wish he would tell me that he's not scared and that they don't worry about the things that they think I could do. I want him to treat me like any other partner, but deep down, I know I would hate it if he really did that. I know if he changed for me, for my confortability, I would feel like a bastard. Like I changed him because he wasn't good enough for me.

I don't think, in any way, it's unfair for you to expect that your partner - given that you've not done anything to them to cause this fear - treats you like a normal partner and doesn't act afraid of you. If this is based on knowing you have ASPD, not only aren't you in the wrong (which it doesn't sound like you are), but that partner is being ableist. It feels bad bc it's demonization and is a blatant show of ableism, which you shouldn't have to endure with someone as close to you as a partner is.

Without overstepping the bounds of me only knowing this post's worth of information about you, I think you may want to consider if that fear of you is actually your fault in any way, or if what you mentioned about your mother is coloring your view to make you okay with someone being ableist towards you.

So in my opinion this is a really important conversation for you two to have, and in that conversation if you realize that you were correct and he is actually scared of you, maybe try and explain the ways that is hurtful to you.

I know what it's like to simultaneously have spent hours and hours teaching myself not to respond with anger even when the anger is valid *and* still have people saying they're scared of you when you've done nothing to warrant it, and it's shitty. I eventually made a boundary that, if my partner is afraid of me and can't identify any reason why but just *is*, that that means we're incompatible bc I refuse to be treated like a monster for doing nothing wrong. It pushes me enough that it makes me *want* to do scary sh*t bc why work so hard not to when they're going to act this way anyways? That's just me but it's worth considering anyways.

I hope however you have gone about this has been doing okay, I know this ask is old and I'm responding to all of these old ones as if I just got them so that anyone with similar questions can still get advice on it.

Plain text below the cut:

I don't think, in any way, it's unfair for you to expect that your partner - given that you've not done anything to them to cause this fear - treats you like a normal partner and doesn't act afraid of you. If this is based on knowing you have ASPD, not only aren't you in the wrong (which it doesn't sound like you are), but that partner is being ableist. It feels bad bc it's demonization and is a blatant show of ableism, which you shouldn't have to endure with someone as close to you as a partner is.

Without overstepping the bounds of me only knowing this post's worth of information about you, I think you may want to consider if that fear of you is actually your fault in any way, or if what you mentioned about your mother is coloring your view to make you okay with someone being ableist towards you.

So in my opinion this is a really important conversation for you two to have, and in that conversation if you realize that you were correct and he is actually scared of you, maybe try and explain the ways that is hurtful to you.

I know what it's like to simultaneously have spent hours and hours teaching myself not to respond with anger even when the anger is valid *and* still have people saying they're scared of you when you've done nothing to warrant it, and it's shitty. I eventually made a boundary that, if my partner is afraid of me and can't identify any reason why but just *is*, that that means we're incompatible bc I refuse to be treated like a monster for doing nothing wrong. It pushes me enough that it makes me *want* to do scary sh*t bc why work so hard not to when they're going to act this way anyways? That's just me but it's worth considering anyways.

I hope however you have gone about this has been doing okay, I know this ask is old and I'm responding to all of these old ones as if I just got them so that anyone with similar questions can still get advice on it.

[goodluckdetective]

So, Mark has released a new AI and being the person I am, I went to try to break it.

Not only did I achieve this email but I stumbled across something alarming: it’s willing to pull info directly from Infowars which I’ve failed to previously accomplish.

My search is as below: I took an infowars headline and copy and pasted it as a question right into the AI. And sure enough….

Anyway, Zuckerberg stated in the article from the Verge that he wanted his AI to be “the most intelligent AI assistant that people can freely use across the world. With Llama 3, we basically feel like we’re there.”

I guess being “there” is being able to cite Alex Jones. Hurray.

[omnikid6]

Mystery kids remake comic pt 12 episode 2

(The scene transitions through a pan, coming to a parlor scattered with old broken furniture. Neil suspiciously kicks at an old chair while Mabel peeks behind dusty curtains, and Raz is in the foreground with goggles over his eyes, using clairvoyance. Dipper opens a closet, and stares. Against the dark wood of the closet's back wall is an even deeper black-a large triangle almost as tall as he is. He takes a moment to rub his eyes; the triangle seems to be talking to itself...)

Bill Cipher: ... HM, THIS WASN'T A PROPER SUMMO-OH BOY, LOOKS LIKE I'M A LITTLE EARLY! WELL, YOU'VE GOT YOUR WORK CUT OUT FOR YOU KID, I'LL TELL YOU THAT. UNTIL THEN, SWEET DREAMS!

(-With snap of its fingers and a flash, the triangle vanishes, and Dipper blinks his eyes open with a start.)

Dipper Pines: Aa

Mabel Pines: What's wrong, broseph?

Dipper Pines: (Uncertain) I... I think it was my nightmare, but... it's already gone.

Neil Downe: If it's gone, isn't that good?

Dipper Pines: I guess.... C'mon, that means there's only two to go.

Mabel Pines: That's the spirit! Nothing's gonna stop this train from rollin'!

Neil Downe: Yeah!

Lancer: Hurray, another victory!

(The two high-five, and lead the way down the hall to the next room,)

Lancer: And we still owe it to you, will take forever

Ralsei: Look

(They all listen to Ralsei)

Ralsei: there is an inscription

(They all come to the door and look at the writing, open it if you dare.)

Mabel Pines: So we believed it.

Susie: A door with threats. What a nightmare of a motivation. Okay, screw you, I'm opening it.

(She opens the door and there is another tunnel in front of him, but suddenly someone comes up to them, and it was a creepy mutated dog and a fire monster, it is immediately obvious that the fire monster is a fear demon, which made Neil and Susie stunned, and the two begin to pounce on them, but Razputin Aquato attacks with his psionic blasts on the dog, but only smashes him, Ralsei tries to calm down with his prayers on the fire monster and the dog, but only fell into a rage)

Ralsei: What else can we do?!

Razputin Aquato: Neil and Susie You are welcome to help win x!

Susie: UMM... Ro.. I'm

Neil Downe: (Frightened) "But it's a dog, and it's hurt, and-"

Razputin Aquato: Don't think of it as a dog, it's a really good movie prop?

(He pauses to study the hydraulics responsible for the chest-mouth before the mutant lunges again.)

Ralsei: Listen, it's normal to be afraid, but don't let nightmares happen. Gain the upper hand over you,

Lancer: They are right, guys! Yes

Mabel Pines: What are ya waiting for? You got this, man! Slug that sucker!"

Lancer: Yes

(voodashiv both of them fight with their nightmares first goes Neil ready to fight with the mutant dog and he pokes with his loshka fork right into the chest and he spews smoke and disappears, meanwhile the fire monster bows from Susie's attacks than gloats but he dies from Susie's attacks)

Susie: Enough already!

(And they won)

Ralsei: Guys, you did it!

Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines and Lancer: Well done guys

Neil Downe: (Relieved) "I am so glad that was not real."

Susie: Yes, but a good slap, and then both cruelty and nasi I just need a great option

(But Susie feels something strange in her stomach and she spews fire, which shocks everyone.)

Susie: Now I, Dragon!!!

Lancer: Hooray Susie!!!

Dipper Pines: So, I'm very glad that Susie received the ability of the mech, let's pass on the important topic, what was it even from where?

Neil Downe: Um, so... Me and Norman watch horror movies together a whole lot. Usually I don't mind them, 'cause I know it's all fake movie stuff, but sometimes if a dog like, gets hurt or is one of the monsters, I... kinda get really upset."

Mabel Pines: I understand completely."

Razputin Aquato: "Makes sense. Haven't you told him about it though?"

Lancer: Didn't he say

Susie: That's it

Neil Downe: Nah, he's usually pretty good about it, he just forgets sometimes. He'd feel really bad if he knew about this though... It's from one of his favorites, so if you guys could... not mention it, that'd be good."

(The others nod or otherwise agree, and he wraps them all in a hug.)

Neil Downe: (Cheerfully) "You guys know what this means, right? Only Raz's nightmare is left!"

(-Raz's smile disappears.)

Razputin Aquato: I hope it'll be as easy as yours, but I have a feeling it won't. I've dealt with a lot of stuff that would give anyone nightmares."

Dipper Pines: "We'll be there to help you out no matter what man. You've already helped... most of us, so we should return the favor."

Razputin Aquato: "Thanks. Chances are it's already something I've beaten the crap out of before though, I can do it again."

Mabel Pines: Yeah! Punching stuff! Let's go find that nightmare and show it who's boss!"

(-Mabel leads the way out the others right on her heels, their morale boosted by her cheer and the ease of their task so far.)

Dipper Pines: Pines: I can ask those

Ralsei: Which

Dipper Pines: What is this apocalypse that Susie was talking about?

Ralsei: Yes. This apocalypse is called "the roaring" if the fountains are too many, the world will fall into chaos, creatures known as titans will sow chaos on the earth. All the dark will eventually turn to stone, and the light will be left to their fate

(And Dipper started to think)

[leffee]

71 and 77 for Vinnil (I did it. A ship that doesn't include Pepper :0)

Vinnil, hurray! Objectively best lps ship :DDDD

71. If someone were to insult their S/O, how would the other handle it?

Insult Sunil and you are basically dead. Or well, that's what Vinnie wants to do at least, he is genuinely ready to fight no matter how realistic his chances of winning are, not to mention that Sunil or whoever else is with him will probably hold him to stop him from doing so. Still, he's ready and also throws 50 slurs at the person who did the insulting. If he can't fight them physically then there's at least that. He's seething and never forgetting.

Now, if someone were to insult Vinnie? Lol, deserved. Sunil will just huff, fold his arms, and narrow his eyes at them. He's judging them hard. Are they sure they want him to utilize that height of him? No they don't. Might go behind Vinnie and wrap his arms around him just to show that he's with him.

77. What is something they would never forgive the other one for doing/saying?

Bro, there's nothing Sunil could do that Vinnie would not forgive him, especially ever. Like, even if it was something serious like idk, cheating on him (which Sunil would never do, nuh-uh) then Vinnie would talk himself into thinking that it's his fault. He was a bad boyfriend and he forced Sunil to cheat on him!

As for Sunil, I guess just your usual stuff like Vinnie cheating on him (same, Vinnie would never) and extreme stuff. If one day Vinnie decided to go on and insult his entire family for some weird reason for example.

Stuff like that, I don't think there's anything else they wouldn't forgive each other, especially ever.

[sajirah]

The Prison Chapter Two

Gifts and Introductions

Guess what guys! You get chapter two several days ahead of schedule because I'm a crazy person! Hurray! Once again, you can read it here or on AO3.

-o0o-

Feyre awoke to the face of death. 

Or rather, she awoke to a dead rabbit staring her in the face. But it might as well been the same thing with the way she reacted, screeching and smashing her head against the rocky overhang in her haste to put distance between her and the corpse. 

Where the hell had this come from? Had a rabbit just wandered into her burrow and…died?

She stared, pondering this conundrum before realizing she was…warm. There was a blanket over her lap. A blanket she most definitely did not have the night before. And now that she looked closer there were several other things piled beside the dead rabbit. 

A lighter. A pile of sticks. And was that…a knife?

…What the hell?

She looked around frantically. Did someone…leave this all for her? But who? Why?! Better yet, why would they bring her all this stuff and just…leave? She couldn’t imagine anyone handing over a bunch of items necessary for survival (in a place where they were worth more than gold) unless they expected something in return. And of course there was only one thing a man on a deserted island would want from her. And yet no one was around to collect on such a trade. She hadn’t seen a single soul since her disastrous run in with the welcoming committee on the beach. 

Her stomach growled. 

She hadn’t eaten anything since early yesterday morning and her body was making its displeasure known. Though she’d certainly gone longer without food before she also knew it was only a matter of time before she wouldn’t have enough energy to look for her meals. And at that point she would be as good as dead. 

Feyre stared at the rabbit and saw herself reflected in its glassy black eyes. Well…it’s not like she hadn’t eaten worse. Much worse. She could still taste the moldy crust of bread and mealy apple core she’d once filched from the trash when her family’s finances were at their most dire. 

She reached for the lighter. 

At least she wouldn’t have to build a fire the hard way. 

-o0o-

She should’ve known. 

Feyre was just finishing up her breakfast when she heard a twig snap behind her. Quick as a snake she snatched up her knife and spun towards the intruder. 

A man stood at the edge of her little camp, hands quickly raised at the sight of her knife. He was old, ragged and worn, but his eyes were clever. Steely. This was not someone she could let her guard down around. 

“I saw the smoke,” he said slowly. “From your fire.”

Feyre could smack herself for being so stupid. Of course he saw the smoke. Of course he came looking, thinking whoever built it might be easy pickings. Clearly her hunger had made her stupid. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes. Not here. 

“I was just curious,” the man continued. “Nobody comes out here you see. You must be new. I’ve never seen you before.”

“Arrived yesterday,” she admitted, though only because it seemed to be written all over her with her idiotic fire building and her mostly new prison uniform that hadn’t been worn down to threads like everyone else’s. The man’s own uniform was barely recognizable, patched with a mishmash of other fabrics. Of course where he had found other fabrics she had no idea. 

“That would explain a lot.”

She grimaced. “Are you saying you eat your food raw?”

The man laughed. It was so sudden and so surprising that she nearly dropped her knife. 

“No, I meant because you were this far into the forest. Of course we cook our food. We’re not animals.” The man paused, as if considering. “Well, most of us aren’t anyway.”

She stared. “What do you mean ‘no one comes this far into the forest’? Isn’t this where all the food is?”

The man was quiet for a moment, then suddenly he began to fold himself onto the ground with all the accompanied grumbling and groaning you’d expect from someone past middle age. Feyre’s grip on her knife tightened but the man just waved her off. 

“I’m too old to be having these conversations standing for so long. Keep standing if you like but I might as well get comfortable while I explain some things.”

“Explain some things?” Feyre repeated dumbly. 

“Oh yes.” The stranger said cheerily. “You see, we have some rules around here. Like Timber Town is neutral ground-”

“There’s a town here?!” She interrupted, confused. “I thought this was a deserted island full of criminals?”

“Oh it is. But it wasn’t always. It used to be a waypoint for ships to resupply on the way to the mainland back in the 18th century. There’s still a few towns and houses scattered around the island from that time, though we really only use Timber Town.”

Well that didn’t make any sense. If there were multiple towns with houses full of things to scavenge why would everyone only stick to one of them? Feyre said as much to the man and he gave her a strange look. 

“Because Timber Town is on the shoreline.”

“What does that have to do with anything? It seems like such a waste to just leave everything beyond the beach untouched.”

“Because this forest is haunted.”

Feyre blinked. 

“Haunted.” She said skeptically. 

The stranger nodded sagely, as if this weren’t the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. 

“Listen, girl,” he said, deathly serious. “There is something in these woods. Something evil. Every night, when the sun goes down, things get very strange on this island. Animals go feral. Men go insane. Some go to take a leak at the edge of the forest at night and wake up the next morning on the other side of the island. I’ve watched men who were as good as brothers slit their friend’s throat in the night.”

It sounded like he was telling her a ghost story but the man looked too haunted by his own words to be spinning her a tall tale. 

“I don’t know why this place was abandoned, nor why it was repurposed as a prison. But I can guess. We are not the predators on this island. It is. Whatever it is it hunts us. Toys with us. We are merely its playthings. And I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that our government is well aware of this. Like a tiger living in your house. You keep it fed and happy and docile because the moment it gets hungry, your throat will be the first it comes for. So they keep a steady supply of victims, people no one will miss, and they dump them on this island hoping it will keep the thing in the woods too busy to look their way.”

“You’re crazy.” Feyre said, not quite believing her own words. Because she had felt something last night. Like a whisper in her ear that she couldn’t quite catch. And where had her gifts come from? No other prisoner in their right mind would’ve just dropped off such valuable things and left her unmolested. 

“Oh, undoubtedly.” The man said with a bitter laugh. “I have lived here too long not to at least a little crazy. But that doesn’t mean what I say isn’t true. Stay in the forest if you like. It very well might be the safest place for a woman here. But when the night comes, I promise you, you will see why the rest of us stay out of the forest’s shadow.” 

And with that he got up, joints creaking loudly, and he nodded at her not unkindly. 

And then he left. 

-o0o-

She sat there for a while afterwards, mulling over the strange man’s story. 

Suppose it was all true though, what then? It’s not like she could just wander the beaches like all the rest of the prisoners. She was, as far as she was aware, the only woman on this island. If she left the forest she was essentially offering herself up on a silver platter. And while Feyre was plenty self sacrificial when it came to her family, she drew the line at putting herself at risk of being raped any more than she already was. Better to keep seeking refuge in the forest since everyone else seemed to think it was cursed…or something. 

Or maybe it was all just an elaborate lie dreamed up by a mad man to fuck with her and lead her right where he wanted her? Who was to say really. 

She knew one thing for sure though, she couldn’t stay here. If the last man found her so easily from her campfire then it was only a matter of time before others showed up. She needed to find a new camp. And quickly. 

Feyre stared in the direction the man had disappeared, presumably back towards the beach…then behind her deeper into the forest. She felt a strange tugging at her heart and rubbed at it absently. 

Well…it’s not like she had ever believed in ghosts anyway. 

Decision made, she put out her fire with a few handfuls of dirt and packed up her sorry little camp. Not that there was all that much to pack. She stuffed the knife into her belt, tucked the lighter into her pocket, and rolled the blanket up and stuffed it under her arm. 

There. All packed. 

With one last glance back towards the beach, Feyre began walking very determinedly in the other direction. 

-o0o-

She had been walking for only a few hours when she stumbled across it quite by accident. 

It was almost completely covered in ivy and most of the roof had collapsed, but even so…it was a house. One of the very same houses the strange man had told her about. 

Finally!

Real shelter! She wouldn’t have to sleep in the mud with only a rock to protect her from the elements. She buzzed around the little house excitedly, taking stock of everything she could. A few of the ceiling beams were still intact and all of the walls were still fairly solid save for a rather large hole towards the back. But still…a house was a house. 

She spent the rest of the day clearing a space inside for herself, cutting back brambles with her knife and setting aside whatever furniture she could find that was still in one piece. By the time the sun began to go down she was exhausted but content, huddled in the corner of the house to settle in for the night. 

Let the stupid ghost come, if it was even real. It would have to fight her for her home. She wouldn’t give it up without a fight. 

And it was with that thought that she drifted off to sleep. 

-o0o-

She was home. 

Well, her childhood home anyway. The one her family had lived in before her mother died. Before her father’s business had gone belly up like so many others during the depression. Before her sister had seen the need to sell herself to a monster to pull her family out of poverty. 

She wandered through the sitting room, everything still as she remembered it as a child. The velvet sofa, the oriental rug with the coffee stain on it from when she’d tried to sneak a sip of her father’s coffee (their housekeeper never had quite managed the get it out), and the record player crooning The Andrews Sisters. 

You’re really swell, I have to admit you

Deserve expressions that really fit you

And so I’ve wracked my brain, hoping to explain

All the things that you do to me.

Wait.

She let the familiar words drift into her ears as she stared at the record player, puzzled. She hadn’t even heard this song until after her family had long moved out of this house. So how…?

“Apologies,” a dark voice said, in amusement. 

Feyre jumped, whirling around in surprise only to see an unfamiliar man lounging indolently on the sofa. A sofa that had very much been empty only moments before. He was young and handsome, tanned and dark haired with a strong jaw and strange glittering eyes. And his clothes were…odd. Like the music it seemed out of time and place, closer to what she remembered of the fantasy comics she’d borrowed from her friends at school rather than the usual suit and fedora worn by the men of her era. 

“I created this place from your fondest memories. I should have realized some of them wouldn’t quite fit together.” 

If anything that only confused her more. 

“Who…?” She trailed off. 

The man smirked, as if he were in on a joke she had missed. 

“How rude of me, we haven’t even introduced ourselves have we? You may call me Rhys if you like. And what’s your name darling?”

Feyre’s years of etiquette kicked in before she could stop herself. “Feyre Archeron.”

“Feyre,” Rhys rolled her name over his tongue like a gift. “What a pleasure it is to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” She latched onto that single word, puzzled. 

“Oh yes,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“I…I don’t understand.” She really didn’t. 

“Did you like my gifts?”

The words threw her for a loop again. She felt like every time she was starting to get a grasp of understanding what was happening it slipped away from her again. Like a dream…

“Gifts?” She repeated. She felt a spark of recognition but then felt it flit away again. 

“I admit, they were rather paltry offerings, but I’m afraid my options were rather limited in this place,” the man said with a sigh. “You deserve better. The best. Gold and diamonds. Spiced wine. Suckling pig and saffron rice. A feather bed.” 

His words lulled her, painting a picture of the luxury and comfort she did not currently have. 

Wait.

She did have those things…didn’t she? Feyre glanced around at her sitting room with its modern comforts and amenities. The best things money could buy. And yet…it didn’t fit. She was missing something. 

Like a dream…

And then it struck her, like a bolt of lightning. The murder of her brother-in-law, her trial, the marine’s words to her before he threw her into the ocean, her confrontation on the beach, but most importantly…

“There is something in these woods. Something evil.”

The man on the sofa went still. As if he’d somehow heard her thoughts. As if…

Feyre’s eyes widened in realization. 

“It’s you.”

And then she woke up. 

[askteamkira]

LIGHT: Here, Misa, something new for you to answer.

MISA: Oh, hurray! Thanks!

[Footsteps as Light departs]

[Pause, except for scrolling noises as Misa reads]

[A sigh]

MISA: "For both of our safety." …Sometimes I think Light thinks I'm stupid.

KIYOMI: Yagami-kun thinks everyone is stupid. You're not special.

MISA: Gee, you sure know how to make a girl feel better. Can you leave me alone? I'm gonna use the microphone.

KIYOMI: …It's recording already.

MISA: Oh. Huh. That's fine, just shoo for a second.

KIYOMI: Fine.

[Footsteps as Kiyomi departs.]

[A long pause.]

MISA: Okay, I think they're all gone.

I don't regret anything. I'd do it all over again if I could.

Well… the torture sucked. If I knew Ryuzaki was actually L the whole time I'd have written down whatever name was above his head right then and there! But it worked out in the end, didn't it? Light won. And that's all that matters.

And to be honest? It's nice, knowing that I went through all of that suffering for Light. It makes me happy to think about. That my love was so strong I could do anything for him… I've always wanted to feel a love like that.

The one thing I regret is giving up my memories the second time. It made my head all woozy for months afterwards and it took until I died to figure out why. I could've been so much more useful to Light than the prosecutor guy and Kiyomi-chan could. I had the eyes, and I was living with him so we wouldn't have to talk to a third person just to communicate to each other, and…

I know he meant the best — he just wanted me to be able to live a normal life as his wife and everything.

[Audio glitch]

[Misa laughs, dry]

I wanted that too. I really did. Guess I'm just not built for it. I was way better at being a murderer.

It should've been me there at the warehouse. I would have saved him. I would have figured out a way. I never lose until I forfeit.

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 12th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

HURRAY!! We are halfway done with the writemas season! It’s actually really sad to see it go by so quickly. I was having so much fun. Oh well, time flies when you are havin’ fun right? If you missed the rules here they are in the invite post! And here are today's prompts for the 12th day of Writemas! Break time is finally here! Thankfully, for my break I get 6 weeks off of classes(since I’m not doing winter semester classes, just returning for spring semester), so I am eternally grateful for that! I hope everyone else's breaks will be just as relaxing as mine will be, I know we all need it right now!

Prompts used:

Feeling: The softness of snow

Setting: A tavern(at the beginning only lol)

Today is a fun day, I love writing for Aery so you get more of her today!

Read about the WIP here!!

XOXO Hope y’all enjoy it!!

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Aerlyra practically fell onto the chair. With her drink almost spilling out of the glass as she forced her head down into her arm, resting atop the table. She lifted her head up once the time she sat there, only to down the shot in her grasp. Once feeling the burn slide down her throat, she turned her glass over and slammed it down. Then, throwing her head down back into her interlocked arms and facing the table top, she tried to make sense of it all.

I was needing a pay bump this week. How could she get that bonus? How did she have so much more profit than us? It’s completely not fair.  Aerlyra caught herself in her mistake, Well I do know why! She has a whole team who actually like to work together. No one likes me on my team. That’s why we can’t catch anything. That, and she’s completely perfect, a perfect leader, one they all trust. But not my team! If only I spoke up more, maybe held myself better, and led my team to success. Maybe I can get more profits. Oh, where’s the point there? It’ll never happen! Maybe one day we can get lost in the waters and give up and become friends with the fish we are supposed to sell. Oh, how I hate fish. Everything about them! It just makes my stomach turn when I smell it. An unsightly disgusting group of creatures. Now, I guess I have to sell Eshi to cover—

Without warning, she heard explosive commotion outside of the tavern. Aerlyra could hear that something was pounding loudly against the dirt road outside through the windows of the building. Horses, and lots of them. But, very few in Korsk owned a horse. Even then, they didn’t ride in groups, and so urgently. That could mean only one thing. Aerlyra had to know if they were here, all the way out to Korsk. Quickly wiping her tears away and downing another shot that magically appeared next to her, probably left there out of sympathy from the waitress, she ran out the door and into the frigid expanse.

Snow started to cling to the edges of Aerlyra’s coat. Soft clumps were thrown about through the air as she hurried to get to the men. Trudging through the icy cold to talk to Queensmen was the last thing she thought she would ever be doing. It had been at least three years, three long years, since she had seen a Queensmen’s face, coming through town, horseback, to a city. 

“Hello, Mr. Queensman, sir! Do you mind me asking a few questions about…all of this?” Aerlyra smiled and tried her best to be polite to the man. 

“Sure, “ The man looked over his shoulder to her, diverting his body, “What do you have in mind? Are you interested?”

Aerlyra let go of a gasp she didn’t know she held within her, “Oh! No, no, sir! Definitely not, I already served my time. I was just wondering what you and your division are doing here in Korsk. I mean, you are mighty far away from the Capital. Is there—”

“You already served? I should’ve known. Who did you serve under? 

“I hardly think anything like that is important, sir. Can you please tell me what’s going on? We don’t get a lot of news here, I’m sure you know why you were sent here. So, if you could enlighten me on a few details, sir. Please?” Aerlyra stayed strong in her intent to find the root of why Queensmen started to suddenly scatter around Korsk, of all places.

“Ma’am, we are here to broaden the scope of the Army outside of just the capital. We are just here for the recruitment of children in Cursk for the Queen’s Academy for Young Learners of Magic, for right now. So, there won’t be any Army recruiters taking people off the roads to , or drafts for that matter. Though, you can still apply if you would like.”

“Why do you need people from Korsk? Isn’t there enough children in Haukrosen to pack the academy full? There aren’t many people exposed to magic around these parts, sir. They are severely disadvantaged compared to the kids from the Capital.” Aerlyra questioned further, her curiosity piqued. 

“Well, you sure do seem enthusiastic about this, so many questions. Incredibly knowledgeable, too. Are you sure you aren’t interested?” He simply asked, shoving an Army application paper in front of her, “All you have to do is take this and bring it back with your documentation. You can always finish your service to the Queen. There’s always a place welcoming you with open arms in the Queen’s Army.”

Aerlyra hesitated for a moment, as if she actually wanted to follow through with it, but she knew she couldn’t ever again, “I’m sorry, I can’t. I, um, must go now, sir. It’s been a pleasure, really, but I’m just not cut out for that sort of stuff anymore. Or really ever in the first place. I’m not fit for the job, I have another job anyways. One with great pay!”

She backed away from the Queensman, punching herself down as to why she even thought it would be a good idea. Rounding the corner, Aerlyra took off to make her way back to her lonesome cabin just up north of town.

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