#Stay Tombed Radio

[fraugwinska]

I've seen fanfics about Alastor × deaf reader

But what about.. blind reader? Maybe they lost sight in some battle

How they would be confused meeting Alastor at first: did someone turn the radio on- oh, thats a demon talking!

And how confused would be Alastor as his feelings started to grow towards the reader: he just enjoys their company! What else can he do when they like to listen to him spilling the tea and just rambling about everything because of his soothing voice? His favourite listener

Then.. their relationships get a bit different as in another one relaxing evening together Alastor asks if they want to see him..

And on their confused silence he answers bringing their hands to his face for them to "read" his apperience..

Just thought it would be hella fun to read! Not good enough at english, sorry for mistakes

I love your writtings! 💕Stay hydrated and don't dare to overwork yourself ☝

Hiya lovely Anon! <3 I put my own little spin on your idea! I love fics like those, and this one sat in my drafts for ages - I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you so much for this ask! <3 Warning: Contains depictions of attempted SA, please read with caution - MINORS DNI!

The bookstore was always quiet in the evenings. Well, it was quiet almost always.

Hell wasn't the most... appreciative place for tombs and books that didn't have porn or egregious murder in them, so your shop wasn't really frequented much. Occasionally, a new sinner would find their way in, not yet taken by the unpunished excessiveness Pentagram City had to offer, and would buy a book or two, never to be seen again. The rest of your clientele were loyal regulars, mostly elderly demons and imps getting books for their masters in other rings. It wasn't much, but enough for you to get by, live a simple, modest life. Your shop was mundane enough as to not attract the more dangerous ones the city had to offer, yet held the beauty that only an antique bookstore could, with a reading room like atmosphere, mismatched armchairs scattered in between the high bookshelves and an old radio on the counter playing in the background.

That didn't mean there weren't moments you'd have to get yourself out of some serious situations. On rare occasions, the patrons of your bookstore became too demanding or rough with you, thinking they could intimidate or screw you over because of your... handicap. After all, how would you see the hand reaching in the register, or the little spell book slipping into the inside pocket of a jacket. The blindness you were born with on earth hadn't left you in your death, but the enhanced sensitivity of your other senses made things easier for you. You had learned to take your losses, unwilling to let these moments ruin your confidence in your work or diminish your spirits.

You navigated through the little store with ease, putting laid-out books back into their designated places - feeling the backs of the books like it spelled their names, and motion memory guiding you through the maze of furniture and shelves - your plain, long felt skirt softly brushing this edge and that wood panel. What you wore wasn't fancy, modern or stylish attire, but it was comfortable enough. And who were you kidding? At the end of the day, nobody cared for your less-than-ordinary appearance, but yourself.

Your mind had been drifting around between random topics for a while until, on your last trip back to the front desk, your round ears picked up the bell on your door and the faint sound of staticy talking, coming from the direction of the counter. A customer, at this hour no less! But you were sure you had turned off the radio hours ago... maybe the old thing was finally breaking down, you thought with a little sadness. You hurried to it, still hung back in your thoughts and babbling as you turned the desk to shut the little device off so your customer wasn't disturbed.

"Hello, I'm terribly sorry if you're bothered by the radio, I should have turned it off. Feel free to browse through-" you paused mid-sentence as the air shifted slightly. You had turned the familiar knob but the filtered voice didn't stop talking. Your ears moved around, as if the source was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, trying to determine its source, when the other occupant of the store laughed at the surprise written on your face.

"Apologies aren't necessary my dear, but that wasn't the little device here but me, asking for service. Although I'm quite fond of a little old fashioned tune - comes with the title of the Radio Demon, you see." He talked with amusement, or something in his tone seemed powerful and dangerous. As his words started to make sense to you, you held a sharp breath, struggling not to take a step back. Of course you've heard of Alastor, the Radio Demon, but you've never had the honor (or dread) of meeting him in person. Rumors had spread around in hell a long time before you'd even gotten here, stories of a powerful overlord who'd broadcasted the screams and torments of his victims, spreading fear to everyone, from sinner, to lesser demons, to even other overlords themselves.

"W-welcome to my store, sir! What can I help you with today?" You smiled pleasantly, hoping that showing him respect and going out of your way for a courteous interaction could possibly keep you from being torn to pieces. You heard the ruffling of fabric - a hand reaching into a pocket, wrapping it's fingers around a thick piece of paper, along a low, distorted chuckle. "A good friend of mine recommended your store to me, I am looking for a few... unusual books, hopefully to be found here."

You waited into the silence, one second, two, three. When he said nothing, only static noise slowly increasing in volume, you decided to speak again. "May you tell me the titles, sir?"

"If you'd take the list, little mouse, everything I need is on it." His voice had an edge of annoyance to it now. You didn't know when his presence had approached so close to where you stood, and couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. You sighed, pulling the darkened glasses off you wore day in, day out, revealing the white irises that gave your blindness away. After a sound like a record scratch, you managed a helpless smile. "I fear if it's not in braille, it won't do much to hand me that."

The other demon was silent again, but the crackling static had dropped, and before you had time to add something that wouldn't get you gutted, he'd barked a laugh, sounding genuinely amused and entertained.

"My, isn't that a bit cliché, my dear? A blind mouse? Any chance you have two siblings?"

That joke was new. You dared to husk out a little laugh, too, your hands gently resting on the counter top. "I hate to disappoint, but no. I even have my tail still, no farmers wife with a knife."

There was a change in his stance, his coat sweeping the air as you heard the list was laid on the wooden surface in front of you, surprisingly not crushed or crumbling under the power of his hand. Coldness swept like waves of fog over the front desk and your hands, you pulled them away with a shudder, confused, but your patron just hummed.

"There, that should've done the trick. I'd rather not want to read my little.... requests aloud, they're a rather curious bunch, I believe. Very useful, though, especially those for more creative types in cooking."

You reached for the paper and thumbed through the braille letters one after the other, feeling a long list of more... taboo tomes you were sure wouldn't have even been mentioned in any respectable catalogue. Luckily, you were a glutton for oddities and curiosities, and with a small smile of pride you found that you had every book on the list on hand. Maybe it was this pride thatgave you the confidence so that you didn't reply and instead swiftly jumped ahead, bustling through the rows and pillars of bookshelves. Every step was calculated, from the short staircase to the tiny nook where you stored spell books and tombs of dark magic, navigating past all the tables and furniture to the particular bookcase containing ritualistic cookbooks. Once you had a feeling where a book would be located, you searched the titles by stroking the backs with the pads of your fingers, tapping quickly and analyzing the material and little bumps and nicks of the spines. Once found, you traced the edges of the piece and drew up a mental image in your mind to check it wasn't bent, dirty, torn or had any parts missing. Your fingers were your eyes, and they were keen.

As you carried the rather heavy stack back, the Radio Demon hadn't moved an inch from where you'd left him, as far as you could tell. It had been hard not to acknowledge him throughout the ordeal while your brain just went on autopilot after realizing he didn't mean to kill you, at least for the moment. On one hand, that was comforting; on the other hand, it was absolutely horrifying.

"Here you go, sir. Please, feel free to check if they are up to your standards." You set the books down carefully, counting the number of thick covers in the stack to be sure and your fingers brushed sharp talons as apparently the Radio Demon reached out to inspect the books as you offered. With a sharp inhale and a heated face you quickly drew back, stammering apologies. He only chuckled faintly, the static surrounding him crackling as if it, too, was amused.

You stood silently behind the counter and listened to him flipping through the pages, turning the books around to read their contents, humming here and there. He seemed content with the lot and you were sure that once he'd paid, he would leave, hopefully sparing your meager existence and not leaving any destruction behind.

"Very well! These will do perfectly, little mouse. And, I have to say, you have a very interesting collection. The quality of your inventory exceeds what Zestial promised. You might expect a few more visits from me in the future, if you don't mind."

The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a statement, underlined with the sound of a heavy stack of bills placed on your counter. Your hands confirmed what your ears already suspected - your patron well overpaid you.

"Not at all, sir, but you gave me too much mon...."

But the air shifted again, and a chime and a thud later you knew he had already walked out, his laughter the last thing you heard before the door clicked shut.

“...ey.”

What a peculiar man, you thought, still processing the entire experience. His voice had been darling, no wonder he chose radio as his medium. You were sure his smile you've heard so many demons whisper about was wide and predatory, but he had been so polite. Even the nickname he'd given you had been charming, compared to the names and remarks you've had thrown at you by lesser demons, and you shook your head at the ridiculousness of your face flushing at the memory.

'Little mouse.'

After a long moment, you finally counted the money and put the amount he tipped you aside in your hidden safe, making a note to yourself that you would give it back to him when he'd return. If he'd return.

Weeks passed and the Radio Demon had kept his promise and visited again. And again. And again.

The first time he came back and you, already flustered, offered to give back the surplus money he'd paid you, he was baffled before he heartily laughed and ignored your attempts to return it to him, instead buying three more books and leaving you with even more undeserved cash in your hands.

Almost once a week he'd return to your store, sometimes he'd have a whole list of books he'd want to buy, and he almost never left your store with empty hands. Sometimes he'd sit down in one of the many chairs to peruse a tomb you set aside for him, predicting he'd find interest in it as you learned his tastes in literature, and he'd hum almost happily when you found a new curiosity or a grimoire that was especially hard to come by. And sometimes he just came in for a quick visit, not even intending to buy a book but just to chat a bit. With every encounter your initial apprehension shifted into appreciation, so much so that you'd grow to eagerly await his return, the sound the bell made when he enthusiastically swung the door open or the slight distortion of your radio when he changed the station to one that suited his mood better.

You were a bit enchanted with him, if you were honest. Not only had every interaction been intriguing and entertaining, he'd been one of the rare visitors who hadn't maliciously mocked or threatened you, or worse. And you found that you enjoyed the small banters you could have with him, the fact that he treated you no differently than anyone else. It was refreshing, and each of his visits put a spring in your step for days, no matter how hard you tried not to think about him.

By the time several months had passed, he became your favorite client and he seemed to have an everlasting interest in your inventory as well as yourself. You learned that he was quite a wealthy demon with a seemingly insatiable appetite for entertainment, and always with an eye for quality, which you vowed yourself to provide in return, if only to keep him coming back. You found you could spend hours with only him at the store over freshly made coffee, discussing various literary concepts and historical events he used as references, and it was a delight to laugh together about some particularly odd rituals in books like 'Old Spells to Cure Thievery' or 'Blood Rituals of the Flaying Kink'.

Sometimes, when you'd hand him a new find or a heavy tomb, his hands would lightly brush yours and his voice would drop and become a bit softer, quieter as he cooed his nickname for you - 'Little Mouse'. With your lack of vision, you didn't know how his face looked nor how his expression would've surely changed - but his voice took on a tone that would be fitting for a date, and the touches made you shiver lightly and tingle and you felt heat spread all over your chest and the pit of your stomach when he did. If your body betrayed those reactions on your face, he wouldn't tease you for them. At least, you never noticed if he did. Maybe he had the grace to simply not remark on them, you thought, for once grateful for your blindness so you wouldn't have to see your own - surely ridiculously dumbstruck - expression reflected in the windows of your storefront. But the physical contact between you became more frequent, more deliberately made, and you'd caught his own quiet sigh every now and again when he lingered for just a moment longer before the doorbell chimed and he'd leave again.

One evening, as you were cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's customers, a soft knock on the already locked door pulled you out of the haze of your radio's gentle tune. Turning around, you moved slowly towards the sound of the interruption, adjusting your dark glasses.

"My apologies, but we're closed for tonight, please come back tomorrow."

There was no reply, no sound of footsteps and your ears strained to catch a whisper of a sound, to find a new hint as to who was outside. Another knock, harder now, sounded and this time it took all your courage to approach. Your hair stood at its roots as your hands rested at the wooden door, your senses tingling that you better not open - that danger stood in front of your store.

"Please go, we'll be open again tomorrow."

Your reflexes, acting faster than your brain, made you stumble back as the glass of your front doors shattered into a million pieces. In a panic you tumbled to the floor, hands over your face as the pieces broke apart on impact. There were voices, rough and foreign sounding, that accompanied the stomping of boots. You shuffled back on the ground, trying to get out of the way before being stepped or kicked upon, reaching to the walls and bookshelves to find some stability to guide you in getting away from what was coming towards you.

"T-take what you want, please, I won't stop you. Just... just take it and leave."

Your words were shaking in fear and the little hope that a verbal warning and submission would placate the robbers. To your horror the voices - two, if your panicked mind didn't fool you - erupted into raspy laughter and you realized then that money might not be the only thing these demons were after.

"You were right, Hank. This is going to be easier than I thought, look at how helpless the bitch is."

"Told 'ya, Tommy Boy. An' the best part..." supposedly the one called Hank said deviously, and you were yanked up at your wrists and thrown over what must've been your counter, your glasses slipping and breaking at the impact and your eyes dwelling with hot tears. You recognized this voice… just a few days ago this demon had come into the shop, just as Alastor was about to leave, lingering around the shop and leaving quickly mumbling a half-asses excuse without buying anything after you asked if you could help him find something and Alastor's static crackled dangerously. The same smell of sharp sweat and wet tobacco lingered around him, making your stomach turn. "... she can't tell anyone who we are. Hoh, look, her eyes are some freaky shit, 'n you bet her tits 're freaky, too. S'not even our damn birthday but looks like we got ourselves a gift. 'Ya wanna go first?"

"You know me - Don't mind if I do."

With a heart beating out of your chest and shallow breaths, you tried to feel with your only free hand for something, anything, to defend yourself with. You had to defend yourself. Anything would be better than what horrific thing they were about to do. There was only the flat, leather bound accounting book close by, but it was better than nothing, and in a motion of impulse and fear you slashed with it into the general direction you felt the weight of Tommy settle onto the counter top above you. His complice bellowed angrily, making your ears ring, and Tommy snatched the weapon from your hand to throw it away. His breath smelled of filth and cold ash, the skin of your throat burned when he wrapped his calloused hands around it.

"We're gonna show ya your fucking place, worthless blind cum-chunk bitch, an' when we're done with ya..."

There was a sudden, instant sound of feedback, a wet splatter and a horrified scream and hasty, fleeing footsteps before a wave of relief washed over you as your neck fell free from the intruders grasp and you heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, my dear fellow, do go on. I'd love to hear the end of that sentence." A low, distorted chuckle followed. Alastor sounded different - menacing. Bone-chilling. If those words would've been directed at you, you would've been mortified. But it sounded like honey in your ears, knowing who the recipient was. "Ah, how silly of me - surely it's much harder to speak without vocal chords."

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as the sounds of violence became ever more gruesome. A whipping sound, a wail and a choked gasp and two stomach-churning thuds of something hitting the floor.

"Well that's not handy at all - you can't even sign your pathetic pleas now. How unfortunate to be in such a vulnerable position, isn't it?"

A thud, then another - your stomach turned as the room got flooded with a different type of warmth. Your lungs and chest stung from the stench of iron and decay and your throat hurt as you realized one aura had vanished from the store and Tommy was most likely reduced to a fleshy pile on the ground. Suddenly you felt a sharp but warm, strangely long but familar hand cradling the back of your skull, pressing your cheek against a broad, angled shoulder, another wrapped tightly around your shoulders, resting under your ears. It was quiet, now - you could only hear your staggered breathing and Alastors static that had gone down a notch or two. You thought his breathing had become more labored, too, when he slowly, gently, let go and straightened you to bring you to a standing position, his hands shifting into their usual shape as they came to rest lightly on your upper arms.

"Are you alright, dear?" His voice was almost back to the tone you were so fond of - almost. There still was an undertone, a dangerous sharpness. Your fingertips instinctively grasped and searched until they met with the familiar texture of his clothing and you nodded.

"Y-yes... I think so, yes. What - what happened to the other one?"

There was a deep laugh, one you haven't heard yet from him. "Oh, my dear, no need to fret over that. I'll deal with that pest later. I should've dealt with him the moment he stepped into your store. An oversight I intend to shortly redeem."

It should have frightened you - should've made the situation so, so much worse, hearing that Alastor planned more torture for that vile creature, probably even an equally gruesome death like the one his friend got. But his words only calmed you. Made you feel... safer. Your fingers lingered on his suit longer than you expected, tracing the detailed seams of his lapels, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the fabric, feeling the details of the cool, metallic buttons. And he let you. He stood still, allowing your hands to see what your eyes couldn't.

"I can't decide if it's a blessing or a shame that you can't see the carnage I caused. Although I am pleased that you didn't have to look at the ugly faces of those cretins who tried to defile you." He took your hands from his coat and placed them softly on his face. "But maybe… you can try to envision what your savior looks like, hm?"

His hands left yours again, though you found the sensation and feeling of his touch remained where he placed them. Your heart fluttered as you couldn't keep yourself from running your palms and fingertips over his skin, cautiously tracing his angular jaw, making out the distinct feeling and sharp lines of a toothy grin. Then you pushed further, fingers running along a slight bow and over the indent where his brows arched, his cheekbones prominent enough you felt the warmth of blood flushing under the skin as the mental image of his face got clearer.

You were in awe that you could do this, that he encouraged it even, but he allowed you the tender moment, making a muffled humming sound and exhaling quietly under your soft, curious touch. You realized at last that his eyes were closed for you, the skin there slightly pliant and firm at the same time. With the tips of your fingers, you followed the firm, straight bridge of his nose down the length of it and he inhaled sharply when you brushed his lips. The familiar sound of static increased just enough for you to realize there had been complete silence aside from your soft and his steady breathing. He opened his eyes again, slowly taking your hands away to leave a feathery light, lingering kiss on your knuckles as he hummed thoughtfully.

"Now, let me clean up this mess, we don't want you stumble over any... unpleasant bits." You heard a snap and felt the air whirring around you, filling with a thick, fog-like sensation as you heard your floors creaking, wood mending and cracking and tiny bits of glass swirling around you, piecing itself together and returning into their frame. Not even a minute later the shop felt normal again, the unpleasant smell gone as well, and with it the overall apprehension the threat had caused.

"Thank you, Alastor. Truly, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't..." you started, pausing as his hands wandered gently around your face to put on your miraculously repaired glasses. He laughed softly, tapping a gentle, slender finger on the tip of your nose.

"Luckily we didn't find out, did we? Ah, but, unfortunately, I'd say the night has been spoiled for us, given that there's another vermin to take care of." He walked behind you, carefully setting the accounting book you had used as an attempted weapon into your hands, his taloned fingers curling gently around yours as if to make sure you had a proper hold on it.

"You lock up when I'm gone, little mouse. And who knows - Maybe we'll continue to see each other... tomorrow night."

And then you felt another gentle peck, this time on your flushed cheek, and the door opened with the bell ringing, the faint crackle of a radio fading and his heavy, signature scent of burned wood and bourbon lingering around you as you hurried to bolt the doors shut, heart racing painfully in your chest at the prospect of adding even more parts of the Radio Demon to the image in your mind.

[f1letters]

the great war | dr3

"my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War"

summary: after the media was filled with cheating rumours involving her husband, she faced hard times trying to rebuild what was left of their relationship

warning: angst, mentions of cheating allegations, the other woman involved has a name (Skylar James is a fictional character), lack of trust, temporary separation between a married couple, fluff ending

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

word count: 3.9k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past, and a public statement.

I'm sorry I took this long to post it, but I'm so happy I was still able to finish this today as I initially promised! hope you enjoy this one!

masterlist

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

And maybe it was egos swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

Isn't it sad how in a blink of an eye one single person can destroy your entire world?

Y/N felt exactly like at that moment. Her floor had collapsed, the walls around her had caved in, her roof had fallen on top of her.

She couldn't believe what her eyes were reading on the small screen she held in her hands. A thousand unanswered questions, a thousand unexplained feelings, a thousand screams trapped in her throat.

I might be sleeping still, this is a nightmare, it has to be, she thought as she looked for an excuse. 

After all, it all started when she woke up in the middle of the night and decided to pick up her phone, expecting to see a message from her husband that should be on his way home after a week of work. 

What she didn't expect was to have so many texts from her friends and family, and complete radio silence from the person who held all the answers she was looking for.

"Daniel Ricciardo caught in 'cheating' storm after an eventful night in Miami"

"McLaren's Daniel Ricciardo packs on the PDA with American model amid divorce rumours"

"SINGLE HONEYBADGER: everything we know about the Australian driver's wild night behind his wife's back"

"Divorce? Ricciardo seen with woman in Miami club... Spoiler alert: it wasn't Y/N Ricciardo"

It was everywhere.

In every magazine, every gossip page, every social media platform.

They were photos of her husband at a nightclub, clear as day. She couldn't deny it. She could recognize the distinctive curls of his hair, the characteristic smile that was always plastered on his face, and the shape of his body that she knew as if it were her own.

There was something that she couldn't recognize though. Maybe it was her. 

Model body, long red hair, short white dress that reflected the purple lights of the bar. And especially Daniel's arms wrapped around a body that wasn't hers, but some other girl who was grabbing her husband's neck, with one hand straying through his hair, just as she had done dozens of times before.

She never felt like this. Somewhere in the haze of the media, she could only get a sense that she'd been betrayed.

She stayed like that for hours. Reading all the news, seeing all the photos, looking at all the comments. It wasn't at all what she needed at that moment. But in an act of masochism and in the absence of the man she loved, she stayed there, seated against the headboard of their king-sized bed, in the cold of dawn, all alone in the house the couple had called home for so many years.

Completely destroyed from the inside out.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

What a fool, her mind kept repeating. But what to expect from a relationship that has advanced at lightning speed?

She still remembered the day they met as if it were yesterday, and she was perfectly aware that it was a moment she would never forget, no matter what happened.

No matter how much of the world she might travel, Canada was always going to be her home, right next to the people she loved.

One of them being her childhood best friend Chloe Stroll, with all her craziness and her giant heart. No one in the world understood Y/N better than the singer, and it had always been that way from the moment they became friends at the young age of 7.

The two of them were sitting on the terrace of Y/N's favourite Italian restaurant in the beautiful city of Montreal. 

It all started when Chloe wanted to introduce her new boyfriend to her best friend. No relationship lasted without the seal of approval from the other half of the duo, so they both knew the importance of this meeting.

However, the two girls were taken by surprise when Scotty had the same idea and didn't show up alone, seeking the approval of his fellow Aussie friend. And what a surprise. Daniel simply stood out in the crowd, radiating from all sides like the star he was.

And without even realizing it, a casual lunch to celebrate the beginning of a relationship became a double date that symbolized the start of a whirlwind romance.

She had spent all day glued to Daniel, her eyes almost unable to remove themselves from his image. But the same thing happened on the other side: the driver couldn't have been more fascinated by her, something that provoked an exchange of suspicious glances between Chloe and Scotty, aware of the chemistry between their two friends.

And as crazy as it might sound to the people around them, in the space of nine months, the two of them were walking out of a church in Perth, hand in hand, wedding bands on their ring fingers, her in a long white dress, him in his best navy blue suit.

They couldn't care less about others' opinions and fears about their relationship. They were head over heels in love with each other and that was enough to be sure they were making the right decision.

However, at that moment, the young woman did not know if this was true.

She couldn't stop thinking about the countless times she'd been warned about the playboy fame her now-husband had before he met her. 

Did he really cheat on me? Had he done it other times before? Was it the end of us? Their dream love story was over.

The sound of the apartment's front door opening and closing brought her back to reality. 

It was him.

Always remember

Uh-huh, tears on the lеtter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If wе survived the Great War

Her body stayed still as she heard the sound of keys being placed on the kitchen counter and the suitcase being dropped on the floor in a hurry. But she just stood there, almost as if she was frozen in fear of facing reality.

The wooden door to their bedroom was opened and she immediately noticed Daniel standing at the bottom of the bed. His eyes were on his wife who, in return, couldn't even look in his direction, her gaze drawn to the white sheets that covered her body instead.

"Baby?" He broke the silence, his voice trembling.

She kept silent on the outside, but on the inside, her thoughts spoke too much. She searched for words to say, but sentences seemed impossible to form in the state she was in.

"I didn't do anything, I swear." He said, in a pleading tone. Y/N felt the mattress drop with the weight of Daniel's knee on it as he tried to get closer to her.

As soon as she felt his icy hand touch her thigh, she unconsciously reacted, pulling her body away from his touch, as if it burned like fire.

"Please." Daniel pleaded, revealing the pain her action had caused him. "Trust me, baby. Please. I didn't do anything." He repeated.

"It didn't look like that." The coldness in her voice was everything he didn't want to hear after the torture that had been the hours of silence during his flight from the United States to Monaco.

"She was trying to talk to me and I didn't think too much of it because she came with some of Lando's friends. You have nothing to worry about." He tried to justify himself. "The media is just exaggerating to sell some non-existent drama stories."

"Just exaggerating?!" She replied, with a louder volume than she perhaps intended, as she allowed herself to look at him for the first time. "Have you seen the photos? Can you imagine what people are saying about you? About me? I look like a fucking idiot."

"And so what they think like that?" His shoulders shrugged, in complete disinterest. "Let them talk. What matters here is that you and I know that these things are nothing more than ridiculous rumours."

"And do I know that?" He was sure he could hear his own heart break at the words coming out of his wife's mouth. "The issue here isn't what people say or don't say. What about me? What about my fucking feelings?!"

"You don't believe me. Is that what you're saying?" Daniel kept up with Y/N's change in tone and now also spoke angrily in his words.

"You've been playing with fire and now you expect me to sit here, watch this shit everywhere and still trust you blindly. How do you want me to believe that nothing happened when there's a bunch of photos of you clinging to some other woman?!" She rose from the bed, placing herself directly in front of him.

"Because we're married! Because I took a vow that I would be loyal to you until death do us part!" He yelled, taking a step closer to her, outraged at the lack of trust in him she was showing. "Because I fucking love you… That should be enough for you." He whispered, realizing they were walking a thin line.

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talking

Screaming from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

As soon as the last sentence left the driver's mouth, he left the room and walked at a fast pace to the room, with Y/N following his path right behind him.

This is it, she thought when she saw him reach again for the suitcase he was carrying before. This is the end of us, right here.

"Where are you going?" Her voice cracked as tears threatened to escape her eyes.

"I'd better not spend the night here. If I stay, things will only escalate and I can't risk losing you because I said shit I shouldn't since I'm upset about this whole situation." Daniel admitted with his eyes mirroring hers, also in tears. Both were surrounded by fear and anger, even if it was for different reasons.

Her body physically ached when she saw his figure disappear through the door. She let her back lean against the hallway wall and descend until she sat on the tiled floor.

The only thing left for her to do was cry. And she did just that. For hours, she stayed there, crying uncontrollably, releasing all the hurt and heartbreak that consumed her.

Eventually, she gained enough courage to get up and walked over to their bed, trying to get some sleep. However, as exhausted as she felt, she spent the rest of the night awake, with the numbers on her nightstand's clock tormenting her, seeming to go slower and slower as time advanced.

She didn't even know where he was. Was he with Max? With Lando? With ... her? She didn't even want to think about that awful scenario, but God, it was hard not to wander in painful thoughts without him there to reassure her.

As soon as the woman saw "6 A.M." displayed on the alarm clock, she decided it was a waste of time to stay there, so she got up, sat on one of the benches on the marble kitchen island and prepared herself a bowl of cereal to eat.

She picked up her phone for the first time since her husband left the apartment and hadn't even unlocked it when she read two words: I'm sorry.

Two words from Chloe, not Daniel. And followed by a link from TMZ.

When she thought she couldn't get out of this with her soul more crushed, she read the title in very big and bold letters.

"EXCLUSIVE: Skylar James reveals all about scandalous affair with Daniel Ricciardo, model claims he cheated on his wife with her multiple times before"

That was the last nail in the coffin.

In a matter of minutes, Y/N packed a suitcase with some of her clothes and her essentials and was ready to leave that house towards her real home in Canada.

But not before she took off her engagement ring and her wedding band and left them both behind on the entryway table.

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the bombs were closer

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Later that day, Daniel mustered up the courage to return to his wife, motivated by his friend, Max, with whom he had stayed overnight.

Such was his surprise and shock when he immediately sensed the silence that filled the house, her abandoned rings only confirming his greatest fear.

She was gone.

That silence lasted for weeks. Both were at extreme ends of the world, on different continents.

Daniel had to restrain himself from catching the next plane to Montreal, something he thought about doing dozens of times during those agonizing days of separation. But Scotty had been in contact with him, telling him that he and his fiancée Chloe were with the driver's partner and that he just needed to give her some time.

Until then, he could only dedicate himself to his career and racing as an escape from the real world.

The girl's absence from the paddock was not missed, especially by the media, who continued to sell stories on top of stories about the most scandalous topic of the moment in the motorsport world's gossip.

It was torture trying to avoid that subject day after day, knowing he had lost the love of his life to greedy people who were trying to make a career out of lies. It turned into something bigger unnecessarily, and he could only blame himself for being in that situation, even though he was also a victim of the whole thing.

That's how Daniel decided there was only one chance to work this out and try to win back his girl. And against the orders of the McLaren's PR team, he sat in his hotel room and released a statement about the false case on his social media, not knowing the consequences that could bring him.

They couldn't be worse than losing her.

For the first time in weeks, Y/N was able to breathe when she opened his Instagram story and read the words he wrote.

"Over the last few weeks, there have been a lot of rumours and lies spread around about my marriage and my alleged involvement with another woman.

I come here to clarify that I don't know that woman and that I have never cheated on my wife with her, or with any woman.

From the moment I met my partner, my life was completely dedicated to her. She is the most special woman in the world and I thank God every day that I was the lucky one chosen to be by her side.

I am the first to admit that the photographs published in the media look wrong and that I shouldn't have even let myself be put in that position. But not everything that appears to be true is true and I need to make clear again that all the claims made by the other person involved are pure fabrications.

My body and soul belong to my incredible, beautiful wife and I couldn't live another day without publicly asking for her forgiveness for the terrible position she was placed in through no fault of her own."

Reading that, she couldn't help but wonder if she shouldn't have trusted him more freely, if she hadn't punished him for things he never did.

At that moment she made the decision to return to Monaco. She wasn't ready to give up on their love just yet and to be defeated by this Great War.

Always remember

Uh-huh, the burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

After 10 agonizing hours of travelling from Montreal to Monaco, Y/N finally found herself in front of the familiar door of the apartment where she had lived over the past years.

I was so unfair, this is my home, come what may, she thought.

She let herself in silently and walked slowly to the open room at the end of the hall, coming face to face with the image of Daniel, sitting on the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

He looked so distraught and so tired. It was evident he hadn't even heard her come in. The girl approached him cautiously and ran her hand gently through the brown curls of his hair as she crouched in front of him.

As soon as he felt her touch, a touch he could recognize anywhere in the world blindfolded, he looked at his wife. His eyes told her everything he was thinking about: the fear of losing her, the despair of someone who didn't know what else to do, the maddening love he felt for her and only her.

"You're here." He said, more to himself than to her. "You're really here."

"I am, baby." She gave him a weak smile, trying to reassure him that she'd come to make amends, not to fight anymore.

"I swear to you that I don't even know her, she showed up at that nightclub in Miami with some of Lando's friends. Everything that woman said is a lie. I never cheated on you, I could never do such a thing." He reached for her hand. "I am completely and truly obsessed with you. No person makes me feel the way you make me feel, and I would never put what we have at risk for anything in the world."

"I know, Danny." She leaned her forehead against his chest as they embraced each other. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you from the start. I don't care what she's been saying to the magazines. I know the man that you really are and that you would never do anything to hurt me on purpose."

"But that's the problem, Y/N. I still hurt you, even if I didn't mean to." Her husband grabbed her face with both of his hands, making her look him in the eye. "I'm the one who has to apologize to you."

"She was trying to say something to me at the club and she walked over to me so I could hear her. When I realized, she suddenly leaned over me and put her arms around my neck and I only had the reflex to grab her around the waist because I honestly thought she had lost her balance or something." He explained what really happened that night. "What I didn't realize was that she had a whole plan to spread those images on the internet in search of her five minutes of fame."

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hairpin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I'd lost you

"We are going to be okay, baby." She said. He had looked at her with such a sense of honour and truth. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in her head that he was being sincere.

Simultaneously, seeking each other's touch, Daniel and Y/N got up on their feet and hugged each other, making sure their bodies were as close as possible.

And they spent the rest of the afternoon like that, in each other's arms, in comfortable silence, just cherishing each other's presence, at peace at last.

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

When dinner time came, the couple ordered their usual Chinese takeaway, as they did every Friday when they were both at home, and sat on the sofa on their balcony while they ate under the beaming light of the sunset.

The only difference to the other Fridays was their phones. Instead of being a part of their conversation as they showed each other videos or photos from their week, this time they chose to turn them off and leave them in their dresser drawer so they couldn't be distracted by the outside world.

These were the moments that made it all worthwhile. These moments of peace, comfort and love all outweighed the war.

"I really thought I'd lost you, you know." She said, as she put her head on his shoulder, sighing. "I've never been so afraid in my life."

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, the worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

He looked at her, appreciating every little detail on her face, from the small scar she had above her eyebrow to the delicate mole she had on her chin.

After experiencing the world without her, Daniel knew that life would never be as colourful as with his lover by his side.

"You could never lose me, baby." He placed a small kiss on her lips. "It's me and you against the world, forever and always."

Always remember

Uh-huh, we're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

Although they didn't need validation from others to make them feel good about their decision to stay together, after a few weeks, the truth eventually came out.

Y/N was getting out of the shower when she got a call from her best friend.

"Hey, Chloe!" The girl said excitedly.

"Y/N, you're not going to believe what just happened." Chloe was always up to date with everything that was going on, but Y/N couldn't help but fear what was coming, especially after the painful weeks she had thanks to digital rumours.

"Skylar was just exposed on Instagram by a 'friend'. She leaked some audios that show it was all a set-up to take advantage of Daniel." Y/N couldn't believe karma worked so fast. "She apparently joined Lando's friends to get into the club but she didn't even know them at all! Can you believe the audacity of this girl?"

Without warning, Y/N disconnected the call, wrapped a towel around her body and ran to Daniel who was in the living room playing PlayStation. 

She quickly told him everything that had happened and it was possible to see the driver breathe a sigh of relief when he realized that his reputation was clean again.

Time had stopped when his lips found hers, making her knees go weak. Everything about him consumed her. Her focus was only on him and how he invaded her every sense.

"I vowed I would always be yours." He reminded her, as he leaned his forehead against hers, both of them with their eyes closed in a gesture of calm and tranquillity. "I love you more than anything in this world. You know that, right? We survived the Great War, Y/N Ricciardo."

I will always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vow I will always be yours

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[withacapitalp]

I Wish For You Every Time

First Half

Read it on ao3 instead

The drive was so much longer than he was used to. 

Normally, Steve didn’t even really bother to look around, and he kind of faded out while he was driving. He had taken these roads every day of his life, he knew them like the back of his hand. On the rare occasion he did look out the window as he drove, he was usually caught up in the simple beauty of Hawkins.

The sloping hills, the big dark trees, the endless expanses of farm land. The town, with people who always waved when they caught your eye, store fronts with big bright signs, and kids on bikes. 

Steve was Hawkins blood. Born there, raised there, lived his whole life knowing he was probably going to die there too. His family had their own section in the cemetery for Christ’s sake. 

It had never really bothered him before. Steve had always taken comfort in how easy that all sounded. Life had gotten pretty strange in the last few years, but that inevitability of a small town existence was the soothing balm that smoothed over those rough patches. 

Well, normally it was soothing. Right now it felt like a death sentence. 

Steve looked out the window, and all he saw was a tomb. He looked out the window and all he saw was the same thing he was always going to see. There was nothing surprising, nothing new. Nothing like when he was with Eddie, who would drag him all around trying to find the most interesting things that he had never seen. 

But Eddie was gone now, and Steve’s entire life was going to be these same sights forever and ever. 

He clenched his hands tighter around the wheel, banishing the sudden inexplicable need to drive his car off the road. He couldn’t do that. Robin was in the car with him. 

It was mildly terrifying that Robin’s presence was the only reason Steve wasn’t wrapping his Beemer around one of those trees he used to love so much. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Robin said softly, reaching over and turning the radio off. It was too much to ask her to drop it, or let this go. His soulmate was a meddler, and Steve knew it was best to just go along with her. 

But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it this time. 

“Would’ve figured you’d see the smoke coming out of my ears before you heard my brain trying to work,” Steve joked, mentally begging for her to just go along with him. Make a joke, crack a smile, let him forget that his heart was still breaking. 

Not a chance. 

“Do you want to stay?” 

If she had asked him yesterday, his answer would have been immediate. If she had even asked him an hour ago, Steve would know what to say. 

He didn't want to leave Hawkins, he wanted Eddie to stay. He wanted them all to stay exactly where they were. 

But he had just watched Eddie drive off into the sunset like it was nothing, and the rest were going to be following soon enough, and his whole world view had flipped on its head. A part of Steve had been so sure it wasn’t happening, so positive that Eddie would realize that he didn’t want to go at the last second. 

Now Steve was being confronted with the full experience of not seeing Eddie ever again, and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he wanted to stay in Hawkins so badly. 

“I don’t know,” He admitted, because lying to Robin was a stupid plan. She could read him better than anyone in the world, “I don’t- I can’t go anywhere else Robin,”

And wasn’t that the truth? Steve wouldn’t survive anywhere but Hawkins. Here he had a reputation, a name that still carried something when people said it. It wasn’t much, but without that, there wasn’t anything all that special about him. Without that notoriety that still hung around, Steve was just another small town loser. 

Wasn’t that pathetic? 

“Why can't you go?” Robin pressed, and Steve knew in an instant he could never tell her. Not only would she not believe him, she would be determined to prove him wrong, and Steve didn’t need to deal with that particular can of worms. 

“Because I’m not like the rest of you. I’m not destined for greatness,” 

He had meant to say it as a joke, but there was too much bitterness carried in the words, too much reality. He was destined for a small town life, nothing special, nothing important. Sure he might end up as the biggest fish again, but there was no escaping his small pond. 

“Maybe that’s because you already got there,” Robin observed, cutting through Steve’s thoughts in the easy way she always did, “Seems to me like you’re already pretty great.” 

“Thanks Robs,” Steve said with a tiny smile. He reached out and she took his free hand in both of hers, smacking his knuckles with a silly kiss.

Well, he hadn’t lost her yet at least. That would probably hurt even more than losing Eddie.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” Robin said to herself, and Steve’s brow furrowed. He turned to look at his best friend, and she turned her head towards the window, tapping out rhythms against the back of his hand in the way she did when she was hiding something. 

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked as they pulled into Loch Nora. She shrugged, still not looking at him. He glanced away from Robin and over to his house. 

When he saw the front lawn, Steve stopped short, slamming on the brake and jerking them both forward. 

“Jesus Christ!” Robin exclaimed, dropping Steve’s hand to rub at her chest where the seat belt had cut into her skin, “What the hell?” 

Steve didn’t respond to her, couldn't have even if he wanted to. His mouth was dry, and his mind was blank, and his heart was jackrabbiting so fast Steve was sure it was about to jump out of his chest. 

Because there were seven bikes on his lawn. And the kids were there, running around playing some game. 

And Eddie was the one chasing them around. 

“Steve? Honey?” Robin probed, putting her hand on his arm. 

“Why is he here?” Steve whispered, unable to speak any louder. 

It had been hard enough to watch Eddie leave the first time. Now he was going to make Steve do it again?!

“Dunno,” Robin lied, acting as if she wasn’t lying. She shrugged and settled back in her seat, doing nothing to hide the smile on her face, “Why don’t we go see what he wants? Maybe he forgot something,” 

Oh. 

This was a set up. 

But for what?

Steve gave Robin a narrow eyed glare, pressing the gas again and smoothly sliding into his driveway like he had never stopped. The kids noticed him pulling in and began to wave, still tripping over each other and cackling loud enough Steve could hear them through the windows. 

Normally the sound would make him smile, but Steve’s mouth felt like it was going to permanently be stuck in a thin straight line. 

He was going to have to let go of Eddie. Again. He was going to have to break his own damn heart. Again. 

Steve wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to deserve it, but there was no doubt in his mind that God was punishing him for something. 

Whatever. He’d survive. Maybe. 

With that particularly dark thought, Steve yanked his seatbelt off, kicking his car door open and letting it slam shut with a satisfying noise. Robin got out much quieter, quickly moving to his side as the others began to race over. 

“Steve!” Eddie shouted, not even bothering to pause as he picked Steve up in a bone crushing hug and spun them both around. 

Steve startled and initially began to try and pull away, but when it was clear Eddie wasn’t letting go anytime soon, Steve gave into the temptation. He buried his face in Eddie’s shoulder with a soft laugh, hugging back and taking in a deep breath. 

There it was. Motor oil and 2-in-1 shampoo. The same brand that Steve had just bought a bottle of, even though he would never even dream of using that crap in his hair. The bottle wasn’t in his bathroom, it was buried deep in his closet, sitting in a box alongside a bloodstained denim vest, and a few of Eddie’s shirts that he had shamelessly stolen right after Eddie told them all he was leaving. 

It was the smell. Steve would still have Eddie’s voice through the phone, but he hadn’t wanted to lose that smell just yet. 

It was Eddie Smell, a scent that made the tension in his shoulders fade away, and made him feel safe no matter what. Steve fisted his hands into Eddie’s shirt, holding him even closer and forcing back the stupid tears that were starting to prick in his eyes again as he took a deep breath and lost himself in it. 

“Eddie,” Steve practically sighed, unable to let go. He pulled back just enough to look at Eddie’s face. 

His eyes were sparkling, and his cheeks were flushed. Steve wanted to kiss him. He was so close. One foot of space, just a little nudge forward. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked instead. 

“I forgot something,” Eddie stated with an absolutely gorgeous grin, keeping his arms around Steve too. 

“I think I’ll just go grab that right now,” Robin said with an innocent little whistle, skipping away. 

“Thanks, Buckley,” Eddie called after her, and she turned, walking backwards as she gave a silly two fingered salute. 

“Both of you thanking me before you should,” Robin said, shaking her head. She faced forward again, disappearing into Steve’s house without any explanation. 

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, not liking the silence that followed his question. When it came to his kids, silence was exceptionally bad. He looked around Eddie, and, very conveniently, all of them seemed to be preoccupied looking at the trees or the clouds in the sky. 

Unacceptable. 

“Dustin,” Steve barked, startling the boy into making eye contact, “Tell me what’s going on,” 

“Why me?” Dustin groaned, and Steve smirked. 

“Because you can’t keep secrets,” He replied. It was true, he had never met a kid who had more trouble keeping his mouth shut. He had told Will about his surprise party not even two hours after Mike had suggested the idea to all of them. 

“Mayfield,” Eddie said almost immediately after Steve’s explanation. Max burst into action, smacking Dustin’s shin with her closest cane. He howled in pain and hopped on one foot, giving her a dirty look. 

“Say nothing. Put your hands over your ears if you have to,” She instructed him, glancing away from Dustin for just a second only to give her babysitter a completely unremorseful shrug, “Sorry Steve,” 

“What are you doing? What did you forget at my house?” Steve demanded, releasing Eddie just so he could put his hands on his hips. It wasn’t quite as effective when it was Eddie or the other adults, but Steve’s Mom Pose did still carry some weight. 

“Hopefully something you’re gonna like?” Eddie offered, finally stepping back to give Steve space. He was playing with his hair the way he did when he was nervous, glancing up at Steve from behind his locks with those beautiful browns. 

Steve didn’t want to make Eddie feel bad, but he was also beyond confused, and the whiplash of emotions hitting him all afternoon was more than intense. Just as he was about to interrogate further, Argyle’s van roared into Loch Nora, horn beeping and radio turned up to maximum volume. 

“Sorry we’re late, Argyle got lost,” Jonathan said as he climbed out. Steve wasn’t sure how they could be late coming to his damn house when he hadn’t even invited him, but he just needed to accept the fact that he was the only one not in the know right now. 

“Your corn roads are confusing,” Argyle complained as they walked over together, “Did you tell him yet?”

“Well I would if everyone would just stop interrupting,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, as if he had any right to be annoyed right now. 

“What is going on?” Steve groaned, over the theatrics. He had been expecting to come home and drown his sorrows in cheap wine and terrible movies. Now the object of those sorrows was standing right in front of him, acting like he had any right to be there. 

“I told you, I forgot something,” Eddie repeated and Steve laughed incredulously. 

“What?! What could you have possibly forgotten that was this important?” Steve asked, throwing up his hands. At this rate, he was just going to open the door and let Eddie take whatever he damn wanted from the stupid house. 

“You.”

What? 

“What?” Steve asked, his voice almost too faint to be heard, all traces of anger vanishing.  

“I forgot you,” Eddie stated, like that sentence made a lick of sense.

A commotion at the door grabbed their attention. Robin was standing on the front step, a giant cardboard box in her hands, and two of his duffle bags at his feet. 

“Hey! Jackasses! Stop ogling and help me put this stuff in Eddie’s van,” She called. 

The kids jumped into action, running over to take things from her and start loading the back of Eddie’s van with Steve’s things. Jonathan and Argyle walked past Steve and Eddie to help them, but Nancy stopped at their sides, holding out a folder that looked just like the one she had given Eddie. 

“I put in a bunch of applications for you. You got into Hunter, Pace, and Hofstra. Sorry I forged your signature,” Nancy apologized, not sounding sorry in the slightest as she continued to leaf through the thick stack of papers and point things out, “I also included a whole section on community colleges, and some financial aid stuff that you can apply for. There’s also the same information I gave Eddie about jobs in towns around the city, but I think you should go to one of the three 4-years. They each have a really good education program that I think you would like,” 

With that, Nancy stood on her tiptoes and kissed Steve’s cheek, handing over the folder and giving Eddie a raised eyebrow look. 

“Remember what we talked about, Munson,” She teased in a warning tone, “This one is special, you treat him right,”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie said with full seriousness. 

And then Nancy was gone, inserting herself into the messy game of Car Jenga that the rest were playing and barking out orders left and right. 

“I don’t understand,” Steve said helplessly. At first he had been up in the air, watching as thoughts lazily drifted past him. Now he was hurtling towards Earth as his mind raced for all the possibilities, all the different things that might be happening, all the different reasons Eddie might have thought he was forgetting Steve. 

He had one idea that he really wanted to be right, but it was insane. Completely, wholly, utterly insane. And if he let himself think that he was right and he turned out to be wrong, Steve just knew he would never recover. He would hit the ground with a crash, breaking all of his bones and losing any ability to ever breathe again. 

Luckily, Eddie would never let him fall for that long. 

“I can’t stay in Hawkins. I just can’t. I tried, but it just- there’s too much,” Eddie started, waving a hand around his head as if that explained what ‘too much’ was, “But I kept trying. I kept trying because I knew I couldn't stay, but I also knew I couldn’t lose you.”

“Eddie-”

“I mean, that’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie said cutting Steve off with a nervous little giggle and diving right into full ramble, “It’s totally bonkers. But it’s true. I wake up, and you’re the first thing I think about. I go to sleep, and there you are, the last thought of my day. I always want to know what you think about things, and I always want to be the one that makes you laugh, because you have the most wonderful laugh I’ve ever heard, and I want to be the one you bitch to about everything, and the thought of not getting to see you every single day made my heart hurt so bad I was sure I was dying.” 

It was all starting to sound like a confession, but Steve couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He was still kind of convinced he was about to wake up in bed, and all of this would just be a dream. 

“So I figured it out. I can’t stay, but I also can’t leave without you,” Eddie declared, confirming all of Steve’s greatest and worst fears. 

Eddie was still leaving. 

He was leaving, but he wanted Steve to go with him. 

Here it was. A perfect ticket out of Hawkins with the guy that Steve wanted more than he had ever wanted anyone before. It was everything he could ever want being handed to him on a silver plate…

And Steve was shaking his head no. 

“I-” Steve paused, mentally screaming at himself for saying no. He wanted to say yes more than anything, but the idea of leaving today was completely incomprehensible, “I can’t just leave. I- you- what about my job?”

“Oh you quit when I did,” Robin called out, revealing that the rest had definitely been eavesdropping the entire time. They were just standing around the van now, openly staring and watching to see what Steve said. 

“No I didn’t,” Steve argued back. As far as he knew he was on shift tomorrow at noon. 

“Ahhhhh, yeah you did. Or I did for you,” She snorted, laughing at her own memories, “And ‘we’ told Keith that he was a creepy pervert who could go fuck himself, so you’re really not getting that job back,”

No job tying him here anymore. So why was Steve still shaking his head no?

“The kids?” Steve wondered aloud. 

Yes. That’s why he was saying no. He had seven nuggets here who depended on him for rides, and advice, and support. 

Never mind that they were getting old enough to drive on their own, and Steve could give them pretty much everything they needed over the phone. Steve still just couldn’t up and abandon them without a second thought. 

He looked at his little group of brats that really weren’t so little anymore, searching their faces for even a hint of hesitation. If he saw even one of them wasn’t okay with this, he was saying no and sticking to it. 

But they were all just smiling like they already knew what he was going to do. 

“You know I think we might just survive without you,” Mike deadpanned. Max elbowed him, and Will rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lack of emotional intelligence. 

“And, Eddie promised to make sure you call us each personally at least once a week, with one big group call on Sundays,” Lucas tacked on, bounding over and adding one more sheet to the top of Steve’s folder, “We put together this chart for you,” 

Steve looked down at the light green construction paper. It was a drawing of a tree adorned with star stickers and little stick figures of him and the party on different branches with the days of the week written on them. The words ‘MOMS PHONE TREE’ were printed bright and bold at the top, and Will and Erica’s signatures were both at the bottom. Each of the kids had taken a different day, except for Lucas and Erica, who were sharing Saturday. 

“They’re the age we were when we started dealing with all of this, so if something does go wrong, they’ll be able to handle it until we get home,” Jonathan said with a shrug, pulling Steve’s attention away from the paper, “Plus, everything is over, right El?”

She paused, letting her eyes dart around for a second before turning to Steve with one of her quiet little smiles. 

“Nothing bad,” She reassured him, “We are safe now,” 

They were safe.

The statement meant more than just safe from Upside Down Shenanigans, more than safe from having to fight monsters that lurked in the dark. They didn’t need Steve to protect them now, and they wouldn’t be the reason he held himself back. 

“I told you, they’re not babies anymore,” Nancy said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. She was giving Steve one of those pin-him-down-and-examine-him looks, the kind she always gave him when she knew he was trying to hide, “They’ll be okay,” 

“Besides you guys are coming to visit, obviously,” Dustin said, his stupid irritating tone grating on Steve’s nerves even as it made him smile, “All holidays, my birthday, and at least two weeks over the summer. And we’re coming to you too.” 

Not losing them forever then. Not forgetting to keep in touch. When Steve had been on the other side of this, he had been sure that they would stop wanting to call. 

Now that he was the one who might be going, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to lose touch with any of them. 

But Steve was still shaking his head, and he had no idea why. 

“I can’t. I mean, I can’t just go. That’s crazy, that’s-”

“Steve,”

Eddie’s voice dragged Steve’s attention to him, making him go silent and still. Any nerves Eddie had been having before had magically evaporated into thin air. He cupped Steve’s face, mouth turning up ever so slightly into a cocky smirk when Steve gasped as his fingers touched his cheek. 

“You can stay if you really want to. I’m not gonna tie you up and throw you in my trunk,” Eddie teased, pausing before his voice got even softer, words meant just for the two of them, “But I have a feeling you don’t want to stay, and you’re just too scared to admit it.” 

It was the truth, but it was too raw, too real. It exposed the deepest darkest parts of him. That underneath the bravado and the stupid levels of courage- Steve was afraid. He was afraid of being alone, but he was also afraid of not being alone. 

He had been alone pretty much all his life, and the idea of having people, only to eventually lose them, was just petrifying. 

“Also, I stole your dandelion wish. Sorry,” Eddie added, completely throwing Steve for a loop. 

“My dandelion?” He questioned, not following Eddie’s train of thought. 

“Yep! I stole your wish, and I’m really hoping mine comes true, so you’re gonna have to take yours back,” Eddie replied. 

“...What’d you wish for?” Steve asked, his heart racing with the possibilities. 

“I wished for you not to punch me in the face after I do this,” Eddie answered, bringing his other hand up before capturing Steve in a kiss. 

It was a chaste little thing, barely more than a press of their lips. As far as first kisses go, it was the most innocent one he had ever had. When Eddie pulled away, there was a pretty blush starting on his cheeks, and the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen. 

Steve was a total addict, and one taste of this drug was enough to have him hooked for life. 

He laughed softly, throwing caution to the wind as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and dragged him into a proper kiss. It was way messier than their first one, and he could hear the kids moaning and whining about how ‘gross’ it was, but Steve couldn't remember ever being happier than he was at this moment. 

Eddie was leaving. 

Eddie was never going to stay. He had always known that. But that didn’t mean Steve had to be left behind. 

Eventually they had to come up for air, and they broke apart with a sigh, pressing their foreheads together as Steve let his eyes slip shut, contentment washing over his entire body like a cool breeze. 

“So what do you say?” Eddie joked, already knowing the answer.

“I say that I’m glad you stole my wish,” Steve whispered against his lips, already leaning back in. 

Tag List: @alyelf @ceaselessly-watching @dbquills @knightofthieves @b-icetea @henderdads

[eoieopda]

can you please write about hobi helping his gf!reader with depression? thank you so much. I love your writing style.

Did I narc on my own depressive-episode habits? Yes. Yes, I did. 🫣 Shout-out to “the chair” - you keep me together, bb.

It’d been hours since you checked your phone. Maybe days, but it didn’t matter much to you. You lost the plot of linear time a while ago.

When you finally mustered the willpower to search for your phone, it took longer than you’d ever admit to find it among the battalion of cups assembled on your nightstand. For the past few days, their numbers grew; and so did your frustration with yourself. Most of the time, you laid with your back turned to your mess so you could forget that it existed. Who needed object permanence, anyway?

It shouldn’t have been so difficult to force your body out of bed, but it was. Eating, showering, staying adequately hydrated - it all cost more than you could currently afford, and you hated feeling this broke. But you had cement in every cell, and dealing with the fog in your brain was already exhausting enough. How could you practice “self-care” if you simply couldn’t give a shit?

The only force stronger than your desire to stay in bed was the guilt you felt in wasting another second there. It was supposed to be a tool - a respite - not a tomb. So why did you keep yourself buried there?

With a groan, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position and checked the stockpile of notifications on your phone. It was a cyclone of texts you hadn’t read, missed calls, and voicemails likely asking why you’d ignored the previous two attempts at contact. Even when faced with the consequences of falling off the radar, you didn’t care to put yourself back on it. Admitting that to yourself only made you feel even worse.

Still, there was one person who was entitled to proof of life. One person whose presence recharged your battery rather than depleted it. He didn’t deserve radio silence, even if you hadn’t gone dark of your own volition. The least you could do was verify your continued presence on this mortal coil.

Hoseok was pure magic - beautiful, baffling, and effervescent. No one you’d ever met was as intuitive as he was; and nobody had the capacity to care about anything as completely and genuinely as he did. He gave you space when you wanted it and closeness when you needed it. And he could tell which of those to provide without you having to say a word - even if you couldn’t make that determination yourself.

He knew you, and that’s precisely why you felt you didn’t deserve him.

Swallowing that thought before it could tug you deeper down the rabbit hole, you dialed his number. And when you heard it ringing outside your bedroom door, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

Oh god.

Your apartment had turned into a depression pit over the past two weeks. Incrementally, too, like a rot had taken over in slow motion. A scourge you couldn’t bring yourself to tidy up. Even the thought of someone seeing your uncharacteristic mess made you nauseous.

This was a side of you Hoseok was permitted to know about, but not one you ever wanted him to see. It’s why you dodged the question any time he asked about moving in together. There was a difference between discussing your insecurities and having him witness the root of them firsthand. If you didn’t love yourself like this, how could he be expected to?

You kicked the blankets off your legs as quickly as you could and scrambled up to unsteady feet. Your joints weren’t prepared for any movement, let alone this frantic of a pace, but you couldn’t hide forever. Your deep, dark secret was now out on display, and you needed to get this awful confrontation over - and him out - before your shame could kill you.

He froze when you stumbled out of your bedroom and into the living room. Standing several meters away in the adjoining kitchen, he held a duster in one hand and his ringing phone in the other - eyes wide and mouth frozen into the shape of an ‘o.’ Like he’d been caught red-handed with the gun still smoking.

“I figured you were sleeping,” He stammered as he turned around to tuck the duster back into the cabinet below your kitchen sink. The look on his face screamed please don’t hate me. “I thought I had more time.”

Your brain was so shell-shocked, you couldn’t form words - you couldn’t even blink. You had no idea how long he’d been in your apartment without you noticing, but in that amount of time, he’d made it unrecognizable.

Your sink, once full of the dishes you hadn’t tended to, was both empty and spotless. The rest of your kitchen was immaculately organized as if it wasn’t just littered with recycling you kept forgetting to take to the curb, and haphazard piles of items you needed to do something with. Even more confusingly, the long to-do list on your countertop now had every line crossed out.

Your wide-eyed gaze trailed over to the living room. The last time you stepped foot in there, it looked like ground zero of some major disaster. Now, thanks to Hoseok, it looked like home again.

The armchair that previously held the majority of your belongings - the island of misfit toys - was vacant. Everything you’d abandoned there over the past two weeks had been returned to its proper place. The mountain of throw blankets had been bulldozed as well. Its disembodied remnants were either neatly folded in the designated basket, or artfully draped over the back of your couch.

He’d even untangled the knot of yarn clinging to your abandoned crochet project.

Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken him to sort this all out - and how quietly he’d had to maneuver to avoid ruining his surprise - led to an explosion of tears. It was monsoon season, and you braced yourself before the flood could carry you off, out the door.

He exclaimed in horror when he saw the way your shoulders shook, struggling to carry the weight of your sobs. You couldn’t bear to see the look on his face, so you hid behind your hands and wished yourself invisible. Accordingly, you didn’t see him race over to you. It was the suddenness of his arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you into his chest, that alerted you to his presence.

“I’m sorry!” His rapid, repeated apologies spewed out like machine-gun fire, “I just - I know your brain isn’t cooperating with you right now, so I wanted to - and I know you’d never ask, but you- “

You dropped your hands and buried your face into his sweatshirt; praying to any god that your running nose wouldn’t ruin it. It came out as an exhale, weightless and automatic: “Thank you.”

“For cleaning? Baby, you don’t need to thank me.”

With a sniffle, you pulled away from him just enough to meet his eyes. “For loving me despite all this… mess.”

His face dropped like a brick. You could feel the slight shift in his posture, and you wanted to disappear entirely. Maybe this was one final courtesy before he washed his hands of you. After all, why wouldn’t he? Were you worth any of this?

“I don’t love you despite,” his incredulous tone corrected you, but his subsequent, petal-soft words cradled you, “I love you including.”

[e-dash-lace]

My Very Own Locked Tomb Playlist

A bunch of songs that I listened to while I was doing a Summer 2024 re-read of The Locked Tomb (mostly Harrow and Nona) in no particular order. I took notes because this fandom makes you crazy and Spotify is so stupid that instead of having a notes feature, it has an algorithm that makes you a new playlist four times a day that's called something like "gut-wrenching wailing girl dinner slay brat summer afternoon." Anyway, notes under the cut (spoilers for the entire series sorry)

Psychic Wound - King Woman

The song that Ianthe puts on the radio when she needs to focus to give Harrow her lobotomy. (In all honesty though I think that most songs off of the I Saw the TV Glow playlist go kind of crazy over Harrow the Ninth. Something something horror of being a queer teenager.)

Intergalactic - The Beastie Boys

When Gideon the Ninth the animated feature length film opens, the opening credits play to this song. This song also plays during Camila's fight with Ianthe Naberius on New Rho

Go Away Little Girl - Percy Faith & His Orchestra

This song really screams Jod to me. It plays during John 8:1. Like really close your eyes and imagine it. Like there's no sound it's just like a jumbled up bunch of slow motion scenes.

My Smile is Extinct - Kane Strang

Honestly I just needed to put this song on the playlist because it's the kind of depression song that's like just goofy enough to make you laugh even when you're sad. RIP Harrow Nonagesimus. She would have loved My Smile is Extinct by Kane Strang.

Army of Me - Bjork

Another sword fight song. This song plays during Gideon and Harrow's first fight on the Ninth House. I think that my brainworms just also really wanted to bring some of that girls fighting in steampunk muted colors vibe from Sucker Punch into this playlist.

Growing Pains - Ethel Cain

The queen brainworm living in my mind demands that all playlists I make have 1 Ethel Cain song. I can't really tell you how this fits, but when I tried to remove it, I thought "no. she stays" This song is Harrow the Ninth coded but maybe like Harrow Coffee Shop AU

Jesus Is the One (I Got Depression) - Zack Fox

First House National Anthem I fear. If I had money, I would pay it to comission a Harrow the Ninth animatic to this song.

Sunday - The Cranberries

Not really sure why this is on the playlist. I think it might have been an accident, but also it just sounds kind of appropriate so it stays :)

August Underground - Ethel Cain

Spotify gave me a really really good daylist ONCE that was just like atmospheric music (mostly from videogames). It was so stellar that I saved it! I listened to that playlist while I was reading like the last 25% of Nona. This song plays throughout all of NtN Chapter 28 or at the very least an extended scenes of Sex Pal and Camilla turning into Paul.

Ghosts in the Static - Ben Babitt

Atmospheric music to listen to while Nona drives through the River. A lot of the songs on the KRZ soundtrack fit that vibe. If you want music to drive on the River to, you should listen to the Kentucky Route Zero soundtrack.

Dumbest Girl Alive - 100 Gecs

I think that Gideon Nav would be a really big 100 gecs fan

Thick Skull (Re: Julien Baker) - Paramore & Julien Baker

I think that Jod would be a really big fan of Paramore. I think this song is about Jod, but it's the song that plays during the flashback scene when Gideon kicks Wake out of the airlock and she falls into the Ninth House

Bad Lil Vibe - Coco & Clair Clair

HEAR ME OUT. In my mind, Jod has gifted Ianthe a cassette player and for some reason, the only cassette that's in it is like some collectible 10th anniversary cassette tape of the album Sexy by Coco & Clair Clair. (that doesn't exist yet but it will). I feel like Coco and Clair Clair are good music for the Coronabeth and Ianthe dynamic duo, but I think that this song is for Ianthe. I think it has that evil hot mess (not like Sharpay Evans evil hot mess, more like Shego with smeared lipstick and a broken heart at the club) vibe that the Saint of Awe brings to the table.

4AEM - Grimes

Grimes TO ME ok IMO strikes me as someone who in 2015 would have been fancast as ianthe because she's blond, skinny, and like swinging around a long sword in her music videos like someone who just kind of thinks that swords are cool conceptually and will go well with the special effects but couldn't actually use one to defend themselves if it came down to it and that's really ianthe tridentarius-core TO ME. I imagine that deep down Ianthe hoped that becoming a lyctor meant she would get to be like an international pop star but more. Not to digress but this song is an Ianthe Tridentarius fight song.

Combat Baby - Metric

Actually lol okay hear me out. So actually Ianthe was also gifted a cd player by jod and this is the song that she cries to (ALONE) when she thinks about Harrow. I think Ianthe wishes she had a y2k style but she was just born in the wrong decade sorry

Pluto - Bjork

This is the song that is playing after Harrow wakes up and Gideon is inside her brain helping her fight Cytherea. I think snippets or like altered instrumental versions of this song also play in each trial that Harrow and Gideon work through. Like some version of this song is definitely playing the first time Harrow siphons Gideon to get those keys

Femininomenon - Chapell Roan

First of all, what is any playlist made in 2024 without a Chapell Roan song on it. Second, when I first wrote this note I imagined this as the song that plays immediately after mercy kills Jod and then like there's a full 3 minute music video where like Mercy is on lead vocals, she's like arguing with Augustine a bit then they're like dancing and then the song really abruptly cuts off right before the end when Jod sucks himself back together. Alternatively, this song plays every single time Nona sees a woman.

Dream Girl Evil - Florence and the Machine

Alectopause Hive International Anthem In the parallel universe where Nona the Ninth was released as a webcomic or like an AO3 fic, Taz Muir has linked this song in the Notes and there are 1000 animatics of the Nona epilogue with this song.

Springbreakers - Charli XCX

Alectopause hive international anthem 2 electric boogaloo (Remember how I said "gut-wrench9ing wailing girl dinner slay brat summer afternoon"? I meant that) I would also accept this song as the Nona epilogue animatic song

Bit of A Monster - Vylet Pony

I can't explain this one. I don't know why it's here it just has to be. If you made it this far, leave ur theories in the tags idk.

Mysteries of the Cleft - death's dynamic shroud

I think like if you asked me to I could make a whole playlist of songs about being in the River, so this is either like a planetkiller harrow song or like the song that plays when Jod takes Ianthe and Harrow through the River the first time.

Kizaki Lake - Satoko Shibata

One thing about me, if there's an opportunity to put a Japanese song on the playlist, a Japanese song is going on the playlist and right now the other queen brainworm in my mind is the brainworm that's been addicted to this album since it was released in February and I think everyone should listen to it. The instrumental for this song plays throughout the entirety of Day One in Nona and IF I WAS IN CHARGE Satoko Shibata would be tapped to do the score for the film because she's just that good. Go listen to Your Favorite Things!

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 4

Part 1 2 3

The ride over to the gate only took a few minute. Once we reached the asteroid, it was small enough that it didn't have much gravity, but it had just enough for there to be a sense of down. We landed and bounce shuffled towards the door.

Approaching the door Gene said "Well we know one thing about the Gate builders."

"What's, that Gene?" I asked.

"That they were about our size. That door is a pretty normal looking door. Fer'resi, it that the size of the door on the K'laxi gates?"

"Yes. So far, this Gate follows the standard plan of the Gates we've found."

As we approached the door, I noticed that there wasn't any markings on the outside, no handles, no wheels. "How do we open the door?" I asked.

"We don't." Fer'resi said. As he said that, the door opened automatically. I could hear his grin. "It opens as we approach."

Walking in, there was a large, vaulted chamber, dark and cold. It didn't look like a control room - there were no consoles, no screens, no seats even. It's almost like...

"This is like a mausoleum." Gene said, looking around. "Or a tomb."

"Yes, we wondered the same thing." Fer'resi said, agreeing. "It does not seem to serve a purpose other than a place to store the directory stone."

We walked more through the dark corridors, our headlamps sending spears of light into the vacuum. We passed though the first large room, and came across another door, much like the first.

"Usually." Fer'resi said. "The directory stone is through this door."

"Only Usually?" I said, wryly.

I could sense him nod. "At least three gates did not have a directory stone in this room. One had it in the main room we're in now, and two had it in a further room."

As we approached this door, I expected it to open, but it remained closed to us. "Fer'resi, do we have to do something to open it?"

"Uh, not... usually." He said "Hmm. I'm not sure. Look around, see if you can find something."

Gene and Fer'resi's lights began to swing around the room, searching for a switch or a panel or a pressure plate. Something to alert the door that we were here. I stayed and looked at the door. It was maybe three meters tall, big for a door, but not gigantic. I approached the door, and without thinking, reached my hand out.

I touched the door.

In the light of hindsight, this might have been a mistake.

Immediately, there was a clang, as the door behind us slammed shut. Lights sprung up all over the chamber, bathing it in a bright white light. Fer'resi must have jumped a meter he was so startled. "What is happening? What did you do?" He looked at me accusing.

"N-nothing!" I said "Well, I touched the door, but that was it!"

"This is FarReach!" The radio crackled with Captain Q'ari. "Mullen, Frankfurt and Perinem, what's going on? We registered a massive power spike on the gate and now the door has slammed shut."

"The gate is lighting up too." FarReach himself added. "It's bathed in spotlights and there is lighting all over the gate complex you're in."

"Uh, sorry Captain. That was me." I said. I decided to own up to things right away, in case something goes wrong. "I touched the inner door - with a gloved hand! - and the outer door slammed shut and more lights came on. We were in the dark before, but now the room is bathed in light."

"Hmm." You could hear the Captain deliberating. "Well, radio contact is still strong, and it's only a door. FarReach could probably blow it if we needed to. Do you feel safe?"

"I don't feel... unsafe." I said "What about you two?"

"It's pretty weird, but no, I don't feel unsafe yet." Gene added.

"This is fascinating!" Fer'resi said. "I do not want to leave yet. We haven't even found the directory stone!"

"All right then." Captain Q'ari said. "You may proceed, but the moment you feel unsafe, Abort the mission and return. We're here to explore, not to get injured. Has the door opened?"

"Uh no. Captain. The door remains closed." I radioed back. Switching to the suit-to-suit I said "Fer'resi, what do we do?"

"Honestly Melody, I have no idea. We're off-script now. Try touching it again?"

Shrugging, and not knowing anything else to do, I reached out with the same hand and touched the door and held it on the door.

This time, a port opened at the top of the door, and a small device came out, looking almost like a camera. I could feel a hum through my suit and the camera thing panned around the room and paused at me, at Gene and at Fer'resi. After a moment, it went back into the port it came out of, and with a shaking of dust, the door rumbled down into the floor.

Beyond the doorway was another room, larger than this one, also lit now in a bright clean light.

We all entered the new room and Fer'resi gasped.

The room as much taller than the previous room, maybe 10 meters tall. It was a vaulted ceiling, coming to a very sharp angle at the top. It was lit evenly with almost no shadows. In the room, on a pedestal in the center was a... monolith.

It was a stone, black as space, maybe 3 meters tall. On the surface of the stone was...writing, I think. It was a series of symbols or letters or something?

"Fer'resi, is this the directory stone?" I asked, turning to him.

"I-It appears so." He said, nervous. "It's different than any other we've found however."

"Oh? Different in what way?"

"Most directory stones had two or three entries. Many, only one. Some had 4. If I'm reading this on correctly there are..." I could hear him counting quietly to himself. "Nearly 50 of them."

I was stunned. "And the Xenni never came here?"

Fer'resi's suit shrugged. "I don't think so. They knew about this Gate, but by the time they found it we were at war so they were busy with... other things. It's hard to believe they didn't come back after to explore but it seems like that's what happened."

Gene walked up and stared with us. "What if they did come back, learned all this stuff but didn't tell us?"

"Doesn't matter now I guess." I said. "We're here, they're not. We're the ones on the exploration mission." I switched us to the ship channel. "FarReach? FarReach? This is the ground mission. We've... found something."

Captain Q'ari came back immediately. "What did you find, Lieutenant?"

"We found the directory stone, but Fer'resi says it's different than the others the K'laxi have found."

"Different in what way Melody?" This time it was FarReach themself asking.

"It's amazing." Fer'resi answered for me. "We have never come across a directory stone quite like this one ever. Where there were normally 2 or 3 or 4 entries this one seems to have more than 50 of them!"

Silence over the radio.

"I'm making a copy now, we'll have to see if any of the entries match known addresses, but I have a feeling we've stumbled on... something like a nexus station. Maybe a place where..." He struggled with words. "Where many lines converge? I don't know. It's rather overwhelming."

Captain Q'ari came on this time. "Well, it sounds like the first part of our mission is a rousing success. We'll have some addresses to try. Finish up your work and come back. It's time to plan next steps."

"So um." I started. "The door opened and the Gate activated even further when I touched the inner door... Do you think I should touch the directory stone?"

Fer'resi didn't look up from his notes. "We've touched them a bunch. Nothing happens. They're just carved pieces of stone. Go ahead and satisfy your curiosity."

With that rousing note of confidence, I walked up to the stone. Even though my suit it radiated cold. I bet it was awfully close to interstellar ambient. If I touched it with an ungloved hand, I would probably get frostbite nearly instantly. Safe in my pressure suit though, I reached out and touched it.

****

I awoke in the infirmary on FarReach with a start. Sitting up, I realized I was belted to the table from my waist down. Panicking I started hyperventilating and was about to lose it when Dr Irenimum came running over.

"Melody! Melody. Concentrate on my voice. You're safe. You're on FarReach. Everything is all right."

His soothing, lightly K'laxi accented voice was calming me down. Still wild eyed I swallowed and croaked "W-what happened?"

"That is what I would like to know." Captain Q'ari said, walking in with a worried look on her face. "What do you remember?"

I thought back. Wasn't it only a few moments ago? "I asked Fer'resi if he thought I should touch the directory stone. He said that K'laxi touched it all the time and nothing happened, so it was fine for me. I reached out and touched it and... now I'm here."

"And you don't remember anything else?" the Captain asked.

I thought hard. I touched the stone and then...

"Right when I touched the stone I felt something. Like... someone?"

Captain Q'ari was taken aback. "Like an AI?"

"I don't know. It was... surprised to feel me. Then, there was a feeling like an intake of breath and... I woke up here."

"Commander Perinem said you tipped your head back and screamed, and then shouted in a language that he's never heard and then passed out. He and Ensign Frankfurt carried you back."

"Wow." I blinked. "I have no memory of that."

Dr Irenimum nodded. "Given how your brains process trauma, I'm not surprised at that. Given time, you might remember more of what happened." He shrugged. "But you might not. FarReach and I did a full body and brain scan. You appear unchanged and there are no known pathogens or unauthorized cybernetic mods installed. If you feel up for it, I'm approving you for duty." He made some notes on his pad. "But, stay on the ship for now."

I started to fuss at the belt around my waist and legs. Dr Irenimum came over and helped. "Why the restraints?"

His ears vibrated in a way that showed embarrassment and sheepishness. "I didn't want you to get hurt mostly."

I looked at him over his head while he bent down and raised an eyebrow. I don't think that was the whole story. I looked up at the Captain. "Did Fer'resi get the data from the directory stone copied?"

She nodded. "Yes. He has multiple options for addresses now. In fact, now that you're awake, we were going to discuss it after dinner."

At the mention of food, I realized I was starving. I got down from the bed gingerly. "I could go for dinner. When do we eat?"

FarReach chimed in. "The Chefs say dinner will be ready in about an hour, but there's hot water ready to go if you wanted to make some coffee first."

I smiled, "It's like you read my mind FarReach. I'd love to do that."

Part 5

[spicysix]

「eddie munson X gn!reader • roadtrip!AU」

2.6k words | prev | next | masterlist | ao3 warnings: yeah, you guessed it, there's a nightmare in this one. oh, what can i do? i'm a sucker for cliche songs of the chapter: you got another thing coming (and the entire screaming for vengeance album) - judas priest • innocent exile (and the entire killers album) - iron maiden • long away - queen

Thursday, July 24

Eddie Munson had back pain.

Not that he’d tell you, of course. He woke up silent, went to the shower area without a word, came back and only nodded at you in greeting. You woke up with the commotion, went for your own shower, came back and joined him on the front bench of the van and he was still as quiet as a tomb. But the way he was moving, rolling his shoulders with groans, the bags under his eyes and how he didn’t seem to find a single comfortable position to drive — all that just gave him away.

“We’re getting a motel next,” you said, looking through the window and humming along out of sync with what you thought was Judas Priest on the radio. The volume was higher than the day before.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve got a sore back from sleeping here. So, either we alternate the mattress, you join me on the mattress or we get a motel with a decent bed for you.”

He was silent once again, eyes on the road, his fingers tapping the wheel along to the music. Brows furrowed, the whole annoyed look on his face that you were starting to memorize by now.

“Motel is fine,” he finally answered after a few minutes, voice low and still grumpy, but you grinned: battle won. Reached over to the dashboard and increased the volume, headbanging to the song, and Eddie huffed what was almost a laugh as his face melted to a more pleased expression — or, last annoyed at least.

── ⇌ • ○ • ⇋ ──

You reached Sioux Falls, South Dakota around three, almost four. Eddie refused to stop even once, and your legs grew sore from sitting in the same position for so long, but you didn’t want to annoy him any further by asking him to stop. You were trying to win him over! You had both eaten most of the stuff he had brought the day before at the convenience store and you knew you’d have to stop somewhere again to buy more snacks sometime.

Eddie stopped at the first motel with vacancy by the road after you entered city limits, and the two of you got your bags from the back of the van before entering the motel. He stopped you mid-walk to ask how would you pay for it, and you just shrugged and said ‘government money’. He agreed to it with a hesitant nod.

The receptionist told you there was a single room left, but it had two beds so that was enough. You paid for it, not letting Eddie pay his half because it had been your idea after all. You grabbed a touristy pamphlet before following him to your shared bedroom.

You left your bag by the end of your bed, the one near the window, and Eddie got the one near the door. There was also a bathroom, and you wasted no time before walking into it to get freshened up with a change of clothes. When you came out Eddie was starfishing on his bed, over the sheets.

“This might have been a good idea,” he said with a sigh and you chuckled before he entered the bathroom to refreshen himself.

You were reading the pamphlet when he came out. “There’s a Zoo, paid tickets, and there’s the y’know, falls, free entrance. Choice?” you asked.

“Kinda just wanna stay here and watch TV, to be honest.” He pointed at the TV on top of the cabinet facing both beds.

“C’mon, we gotta see stuff! What’s the point of a roadtrip if you’re gonna be inside a motel or a van the whole time?” You got up from where you were sitting at the edge of your bed and picked up your bag and the last of the food you still had left.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a planned roadtrip,” he muttered, but picked up his wallet and keys from where he had left them on his bed and followed you outside anyway. There was no actual bite in his voice. “No Zoo, though, I’m terrified of all kinds of wildlife.”

── ⇌ • ○ • ⇋ ──

To the Falls Park you went, then. The pamphlet had a city map and so you guided Eddie to your goal and asked him to pass by the Zoo only so you could see it even if from afar. You had never been to a Zoo before, was kinda disappointed that Eddie didn’t choose it instead of the waterfall, but there was no deadline to your trip and you could still convince him at some point.

You also stopped at a post office to send your postcards. Yours went to Steve’s address, and Eddie’s went to Wayne’s. You also mailed a little letter disclosing that you were both fine, safe, and on a little adventure of your own — all the stuff you had told Steve through the phone already, but you wanted it written down so he could pass the words to the rest of the Party. You didn’t ask Eddie if he had let anyone know, again. If he wanted to, he could open up to you about it. When he wanted to, you were optimistic. And patient. Your grandma would call it long-suffering.

Eddie parked the van a couple of blocks away from the Park, was able to find a free spot on the street, and so you had to walk for a few minutes to reach it. You were both silent again, but Eddie wasn’t grumpy — he seemed kinda off, but not in a bad way, just… introspective. You respected his silence anyway.

When you finally reached the park and followed the signs to one of the viewing spots of the waterfalls, you took another glance at Eddie and realized he had headphones on, his Walkman on the front left pocket of his jeans. Okay, so he really wasn’t in the mood for talking. But he kept walking beside you, looking around with curiosity and you even saw him smiling at two kids — an older brother, he was maybe twelve, and a younger one, no older than eight — play-fighting on the grass. You wondered if they reminded Eddie of Dustin, because it was the first thing that popped into your head at the sight of them.

You followed the paths to the ruins of a mill and Eddie didn’t seem interested, but didn’t walk astray as you admired the remains of the old building. When you finished your contemplation, you kept heading down the same path and he followed you again.

The walk lasted a few more minutes until you were tired and decided to go near the river and sit on the grass, with an open view of the falls. You found a tree and rested with your back turned to it, Eddie did the same on another side of the tree.

You just enjoyed the silence. There were a few people around you but they weren’t loud, you could mostly hear the sound of the water running, the birds chirping and a very low guitar hum coming from Eddie’s headphones.

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them again, the sun was a little lower in the sky. Maybe you had fallen asleep.

Scooting back up from where you had slipped a little lower on the grass, you noticed Eddie also moving beside you. Looking directly at him, he no longer was listening to his Walkman, and was scribbling and doodling on a notebook. Where did those even come from, you had no idea.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said and you chuckled, ignoring the slight goosebumps on your arms from the nickname he chose to use. There was a breeze.

“Was I out for too long?”

“Nah, half over an hour at most.” You just nodded and observed the scenery around you.

There were even fewer people than before, and the birds chirping as the afternoon melted into the evening were different from the ones you heard before your nap. A couple was sitting not far from you and Eddie, the girl’s head on the boy’s shoulder and they were laughing as they talked. The river was still running at full force, and the sound and view of it were still soothing. It was all some good sights for sore eyes.

You thought Eddie was still in his broody, silent mood. Until, no longer than five minutes later, he spoke up.

“Why’d you come along?”

You turned your full body to face him properly, not liking the idea of such an important conversation being held without eye contact. He was no longer scribbling in the notebook, pencil hovering over the page. But his eyes didn’t meet yours.

“Didn’t want you to come alone.” It was a simple answer, and it was the truth. He pondered it for a while.

“But how did you know I was…”

You waited for it, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Running?” you offered and he grimaced. You knew how he felt about that, if the sobbing discourse you heard him spill to Dustin in the Upside Down was a good clue. “It’s okay to run, Eddie. Honestly, you should’ve done it down there too. It’s okay that you didn’t, though. It’s all okay. You did, and you’re still doing what you think it’s best. You’re alive, you’re brave either way and you’re my friend. I wouldn’t let you run alone.” Not again, you added mentally.

He closed the notebook and closed his eyes. Let out a long sigh, and his shoulders were shivering slightly even though it was still very hot under the setting sun.

“I’m still so afraid of it,” he said after a few minutes, his voice almost a whisper, his eyes finally meeting yours, and you could see how wet they were.

“It’s a really scary place.”

“I know the super-siblings said Vecna is dead, and so is everything that ever existed down there, and the gates are closed, and we’re finally safe. But… I’m still afraid. All the time.”

You scooted closer to Eddie, eyes still on his, and reached to him slowly, giving him time to deny your touch if he wanted to. Like the feral kitten he was. He let you grab his hand, though, and squeezed yours right back.

You couldn’t think of words that would fully express what you felt and that would be enough to soothe him somehow. But these were the type of feelings you knew very well, all of your friends did, and only you understood each other. So you told him just that.

“I know. Me too.”

── ⇌ • ○ • ⇋ ──

You and Eddie spent a little while longer in the Park before heading to a diner that was close to where the van was. You ate burgers and pancakes and shared fries, you made small talk, and you were more than glad to have Eddie opening up to you, bit by bit. Bringing to light his true self that you had only caught glimpses of before March, and that you were growing fond of.

He let you choose the radio station on the way back to the motel. And stopped by a record store and encouraged you to go in and buy some tapes of your own for the now growing roadtrip collection. It was nice of him.

Back in your shared bedroom, you took turns silently getting ready to sleep in the bathroom, and it didn’t take long before you were under the sheets, drapes closed by the window and a faint light coming through the thin material after you shut the lights off. Eddie bid you goodnight, you bid him goodnight and soon there was nothing but silence. You were an easy sleeper, so you were under in no time.

You were also a light sleeper. Though, even if you weren’t, you’d have woken up.

Because Eddie was screaming.

You bolted from your bed, familiar with what was happening because you had nightmares yourself. You turned on your nightstand lamp before placing yourself by the end of Eddie’s bed, thinking about your approach.

You’ve done this before.

Robin was easier, you just had to put her under physical pressure — a tight hug would calm her down and sometimes she’d drift back without even waking up. Max wasn’t so different, but she wasn’t as fond of physical contact in those situations, so you only used it as a last resort, not to upset her even further. Usually talking to her in a calm voice or singing softly to her would do. Steve was harder, he was bigger and stronger, once he elbowed you so hard you had to put an ice pack on your cheek.

You remembered Eddie shoving Steve against a wall and pinning him there, and decided to go with the Harrington approach.

“Eddie?” you called him in a normal voice, not hushed as you’d do with Max, but as you’d talk to him if he was awake. He was kicking and rolling in the bed, his voice going hoarse from the screams. You hoped the neighbors wouldn’t bang on your door or worse. “Eddie, wake up.”

You held his ankle in a firm grip and he stopped trashing around. Funny how similar to Steve he was.

“Please, please, please, I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna, I don’t-”

Your heart shattered. Your own eyes teared up, your own heart started beating fast, but you convinced yourself to keep your breathing stable. You had to help him through it, there was no room in it for your own panic. You had a task at hand.

“You’re not dying Eddie. You’re safe.” You decided you were also safe and walked until you were at his side, kneeling on the ground so you’d be at eye level with him. His body was standing still, but he kept moving his head from side to side. “Eddie, you’re safe. You’re in a motel with me, we’re in South Dakota. You’re safe.”

You kept talking to him, talking about your whereabouts and the day you’d shared, noticing how he was growing calmer at the sound of your firm voice. It wasn’t an easy or quick process, but he stopped screaming, and after a few minutes he was awake.

His head turned to face you, a single thread of light from outside through the window reflecting on his wet brown eyes. He was still breathing heavily.

“You’re safe,” you said one more time, reaching to place your hand right beside his arm on the bed. Giving him the option, once again, to initiate contact.

Once again, he chose to touch you.

He turned fully to his side and faced you completely, his eyes never leaving yours, and reached your hand with his own, gripping it tightly. Tears were falling silently down his face.

He scooted backward and never let go of your hand, a quiet plead for you to join him in bed. So you did, also lying on your side, over the covers, to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you smiled.

“Nothing to be sorry for. We’ve all been there.” He agreed with a single nod and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

“I punched Wayne once,” he said when he was looking at you again, and you told him about Steve’s elbowing and how you learned to stay away after that. “Will you stay? Until I’m asleep? I’m still scared.” Your heart grew fonder with how vulnerable he was being with you, with how much he trusted you.

“Of course, Eddie. I’m here. You’re safe,” you affirmed one more time, and he closed his eyes again.

His hand still holding yours, you watched him fall asleep. His breath stilling, calming, gaining a soothing rhythm.

You kept watching him long after he was asleep. Lost track of time counting the freckles on his cheek, the waves and curls and coils of his hair, the way he’d murmur softly to his now peaceful dreams. Your hand still holding his.

end notes: hmmm you thought they'd only have one bed, didn't ya? got'cha!

taglist (is open!): @amira0303 @rupsmorge @wyverntatty

[deeptrashwitch]

A Haunting Past (pt.6)

Tw mention and allusion of death, mention and allusion of torture, mention and allusion to mass murder

Taglist: @alypink @stuffireadandenjoy @snootlestheangel @tapioca-milktea1978 @mutantthedark

@islandtarochips @justasmolbard @mctvsh @midnight193 @welldonekhushi

Some days later, inside Black Tomb, Wraith was watching the coordinates on the screen, and it brought her to some years in the past. The point on the map was one of Republic of Congo, one of the old locations, but this one wasn't a map of Brazzaville, it was a map of some cities near its border with Rwanda. It was near that point where the 10th was captured and where old archives mentioned a prision site, one of the principal on that web.

And meanwhile, inside the helicopter, Alicia was worried inside but with a stone face outside, a bit pale. She looked in silence how they landed, with a void on her stomach because of the fear, and soon they were all out. As they moved in silence across the land, Alicia's heart was pounding and slaming againt her ribcage again, but she swallowed her horror and locked down the fears in her mind.

They were there as a rescue team.

And soon they found the place, a large clearing surrounded by enormous trees, without any kind of vehicles. In the center of the place there was a building, seemingly just with one store and few rooms inside, but Origin knew better. It actually had three more stores below earth, a huge complex filled with cells, each one more miserable and dark than the other and with hundreds of rooms as well.

She wanted to puke and felt dizzy looking at that place, mostly when she noticed the big and the enormous pyres extinguished, in a second she was sure of what was done there. Without a word, she walked towards the ashes as she prayed to be wrong...but unfortunately she wasn't. With a grimace she lifted a skull, all covered in ashes and black because of the flames, she hoped that it wasn't anyone from the 10th.

"Origin, what do you have?" Wraith asked through radio

"It's the same, we have pyres and if it's like I think..."

"What?"

"Mass graves"

"Shit..."

"Mhmm, I thought the same" she muttered before looking around "what was doing a reconnaissance team so far from Switzerland?"

"Let me see, I'll be back soon"

While Wraith was looking for the reasons, Alicia coordinated the boys to look for any entrance, this time she wasn't sure if the exits would be the same. Many of them were locked from the inside, which only gave the team a mix of hope, maybe the 10th was still captured and alive. They reunited again, confused as a banging echoed through the oddly silent place, and it ended up coming from a separared building.

In a second they went to look, and inside was almost every member of the team, alive and with some of them hurt because of the withdrawal. Marcus used the ram to break the door, letting them all go outside while Jackson checked them out. But one person was still missing, the Captain Elías Müller, he wasn't there and no one seemed to know where he was.

"Alicia, I have the reason they were there" Dominique said with some worry

"Talk to me, what is it?"

"They were looking for intel...about a weapon cache and some threats to many cities"

"Fuck" Alicia whispered as she remember a situation like that, starting to panic "then this isn't like Angola!"

"You don't think that..."

"They are trying to recreate the incident in Lebanon! I need to find Elías now!"

"I'll send a medic transport to your location now, take Blackwell with you and find Captain Müller as soon as you can" she said with harshness "we don't need another time like that, what substance?"

"Chlorine gas or mustard gas, one of those two, hope for the last to be honest" Alicia answered as she ran to take three gas masks, throwing one to Jackson "Doc! Gotta move and find the Captain before is too late! The rest of you stay here until the medic transport arrives!"

Jackson didn't say anything, just nodded and ran behind her, already adjusting the gas mask in his face. He was a bit surprised that Alicia knew exactly where to go, even taking the fucking ram with her, arriving to a little door near the back. In a second she opened the door with a slam, then they both ran downstairs with Alicia guiding, moving through the hallways and rooms.

For some minutes they ran, until they were on the second basement, where they found everything what happened. In a room were left many bodies, and all of them had such horrid expressions that they both had chills because of it, and when they looked closer...

"That's the tattoo" Jackson muttered with horror "it's White Tiger, and those people were...their minions. They got asphyxiated and judging their expressions..."

"They died because of a chemical attack" Alicia said, looking away and taking all the documents near, putting them into the bag "let's continue, we don't have enough time"

They run for a while until they found the cells, where they saw the yellow gas over the floor. In a second they found Elías, lying unconscious on the floor, inhaling accidentally the gas. Jackson was the one to take the ram and opened the cell door with a slam as the debris jumped to his face, running inside to put the gas mask over Elías face, checking him for any injuries. Once Alicia ran inside as well, she noticed how Jackson was holding back the coughs and when she kneeled beside him, her blood froze.

"Your mask..." she murmured with fear, looking the huge crack in the mask visor "...don't move"

"Wha-?"

In a second, Alicia took off her own mask and changed it quickly with Jackson's, holding back her own cough.

"Go, the same route we came from" she ordered, putting a piece of fabric over her nose and mouth

"But-" Jackson tried to said something, just to shut up when she growled towards him

"It's an order, Sergeant! Go now!"

Doubting, Jackson grabbed Elías and ran away with some regret, leaving Alicia behind. She was coughing before running as well, going for a secondary route, feeling her throat and lungs burn with every breath. For what it felt like hours, she ran through the labyrinthine hallways just following her instincts, her brain was in authomatic.

That hallways were burned as a map inside her head, she was running again the same path than before to escape, but this time was against the clock. When her eyes started to tear up, she cursed down her breath, but sped up trying to find that door. Luckily for her, she found it, using her impulse and weight to open it, getting blind because of the light.

She fell into the ground, coughing and trying to breath correcly, feeling an acute pain in her eyes and throat as she kneeled over the dirt. Once again she was feeling despair, scratching her neck with even more strenght than ever to find a way to breathe, her throat was closing and she was asphyxiating, at the same time...Alicia wondered if this was what those Rangers felt. As she started to loose consciousness, Alicia barely was able to watch how Alexander ran towards her while Francis called someone through radio, then passing out finally.

Fuck, Carabalí was right.

"Do you think we'll go home?" Sean asked her, leaning against the wall

"I hope so" she answered with some bitterness, trying not put weight over a wound

"Don't move, Guardian" Richard murmured, worried "your wounds..."

"Whatever, I'll have more sooner than later"

"Still, you should be careful, you shouldn't be the one dying here"

She looked around for a second without answering, sighing tiredly, time has passed and she wasn't sure what day was now. Then she looked at how Kate was sat on the corner, murmuring to herself, while Jason used Leo as a pillow for a quick nap. Some steps alerted everyone, while Lotus looked outside through the little space between bars, getting paler by the minute.

"Oh shit, not again" Arthur whispered, looking how their jailer walked towards them

"...Go to the back of the cell" she ordered as she stood up with dificulty "I'll be the one leading with this"

"Captain-"

"Blade, you're on charge while I'm back"

When Carabalí's men arrived, they just stared at the wounded Marine with mockery, but she just stared back with tired but seemingly unbreakable eyes. Once the door was open, not a second after, a fist to her diaphragm left Alicia without air as she bowed unwillingly, and soon was dragged outside towards that damned room. They tied her to the chair as usual, but this time Carabalí himself was there, making Alicia look at him.

"People like you seriously fills me of hate" he told her in a growl "you don't know when shut up and go"

"They did something good then" she answered trying to smile "maybe something happened?"

"How funny, Guardian"

Carabalí took a sledgehammer, looking at her with a sick pleasure smile.

"Give the names now, who were sent to my site on Lebanon? I still miss some more to take down"

Many names arrived to her head, but she knew what their destiny would be if she opened her mouth, so she just looked down. Just like she had lost her mind, she started to laugh, loud laughs filled of craziness and despair. Then she looked at that bastard again, now with eyes filled of pure hate.

"So you lost the cache? Ha! The best fucking news of my life" she hissed with a mocking smile "I can't wait to hear the story"

"Tch, I don't understand why can you bear all of this" he said while preparing the sledgehammer "what a weird soldier are you"

"Maybe I am, but I'm stubborn as fuck and it came from before-"

"Not for much, I'm afraid"

In a second, Carabalí used the sledgehammer and hit her on her arm with it, making a loud crack followed by a blood freezing scream. That happened once, twice and more times, all while Alicia felt little but painful punctures on her arm, her whole arm was in an excruciating pain and she knew it was broken. At the same time Alicia wondered what happened to the Rangers in Lebanon, she had no clue except for a burn over Carabalí's hand and a persistent cough.

"If you don't speak, you'll have the same destiny that those soldiers" he said to her with false compassion

"Can't be worst than this"

"You think so? Not even if you died trying to breathe? Or die feeling how your lungs melt inside your body? Not like they'll do, but I've been told that's the sensation"

"W-what did you do to them?" she asked with horror and nervousness, thinking about Captain Smith and that team of hers

"Not much, just giving them something on my end...they were so close that it bothered me"

"There's no way-"

"You should know better than anyone, I can find methods to make people suffer" he said, grabbing her chin as he used an old knife to re-open the cuts on her arms "what I did to them in that few minutes, that despair...is way worse than what I've done to you. Can you imagine that, Guardian?"

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Fourteen (Part 2)

The journey to Wexford feels long because it is so often interrupted by traffic jams and detours to bypass the worst of the floods along the river. We don’t really chat that much, we avoid confrontation instead, and have the radio on playing the top 40 hits until we’re out of range of the greater Dublin area, and then we listen to the smaller, country stations whose hosts have accents that even I can hardly understand. 

The sight of the familiar palm trees along the long, straight road towards the seaside has me sitting upright and pressing my forehead to the glass to marvel at how everything looks the very same as it used to, save the bits of foliage strewn across the road here and there. The sea is remarkably calm, lacking any of the white peaks of foam breaking on the surface, and the village is just as still. My memories are of a bustling, lively place, people crisscrossing the little roads with ice cream cones and cars backed up as far as the caravan parks, but today I spy only one person about, and he’s bundled in a dark coat with a wire-haired terrier on a leash, on their way towards the wet beach. 

Jude pulls into a roadside spot near the top of the steps that lead down to the quieter end of the strand. As we climb out of the car I glance up at a huge, vacant holiday home that immediately uncovers an ancient, buried memory. Those Italian boys we met on the beach stayed there, and that guy whose name I can no longer recall cooked us the most delicious pasta before that weird little guy tried to grab my arse. I’m still not as old now as those guys were back then, and the idea of hanging out with seventeen and eighteen-year-olds is unthinkable and weird to me now. How strange to think of it in this way, to look back at those men and wonder what they were thinking when they invited us to spend time with them.

Jude hops down the little wooden steps towards the beach house. It stands there proud and solid with its shutters drawn and all of its patio furniture stored away until the summer, and I follow along and stand by him as he unlocks the door as though he’s opening up an ancient tomb.

The house has that undefinable scent of a place that’s unoccupied, and when Jude opens the curtains to reveal that beautiful sea view, dust particles puff into the air and float through the beams of late morning sunshine. It’s tidy. Tidier than it was when I used to come here, but apart from that everything is the same. 

Jude explains what he’s doing as he does it. Checking the electricity. Looking in the freezer to see if it’s defrosted, searching for water damage, tile damage on the roof, testing the shower, everything works. The storm may have torn over this beach and ripped chunks from the dunes, but this house has stood here defiantly, unbothered by nature at its most brutal and unforgiving. 

“How’s it feel to be here?” He wants to know as he stands by the stairway, observing me in my place on the couch, and I tell him that it feels the same, but different, which is vague, but he accepts my answer because I suspect that it’s not really that important to him. He’s more interested in whether or not I am as hungry as he is. 

“If you like we can go to the boat club for something to eat.” He suggests. “It’s still early enough for them to be doing breakfast, I think.”

“I never ate there when we stayed. We only ever used the tennis courts.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright.”

My stomach growls. “Alright is enough for me.”

We head along the cracked, narrow road towards the end of the peninsula where the boat club stands with its back to the sea, with salt dried on its windows and a squeaky weathervane on the roof. 

I was here a few times before, because it has the nicer of the two tennis courts in the village, the other of which is in the middle of a campsite and was always full of pre-teens using it for anything but tennis, but I never felt like the boat club was somewhere I had any right to be. It has a particular type of snootiness about it that has me worried that I’ll be found out at any moment like everyone else who frequents it knows some secret that I don’t, and they’ll soon figure out I don’t belong with them and shoo me off the court like a wild dog.

We go in through the glass doors to the dining room and find a seat next to the window with a view out towards the lighthouse on a spit of land to the east. I glance through the menu and ask Jude for his recommendation, which is the pancakes. The waitress who takes our order is my age with a pretty face and blonde hair twisted up into a spiky bun. 

“Alright, so two pancakes.” She says, doing a slight double take when she lifts her eyes from her notepad and fixes them on Jude. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

He smiles. “Hi. Yeah, just down to check on the house since the storm.”

“Thought you lived in Germany now or something.”

“Yeah I do, I’m just back for a little while.”

“Oh right.” She wipes her hand on the front of her trousers. “You keeping well and all?” Her name tag is glossy gold. Clóda. 

“Sure, I’m fine. And you? Are you in college?”

“I never went in the end. I work weekends here, and then during the week I’m at the front desk in the resort hotel.”

“That’s cool. It’s nice that you’re staying so busy.” They smile at one another, and then she seems to remember she has things to do. “Right, so.” She says with a self-conscious smile. “I better go back to the till.” We thank her, and as she hurries off I look at Jude, who folds a napkin in half. Then again, pressing the side of his thumbnail along the edge to crease it. 

“Someone you used to know?”

“Yeah. We hung out one summer a few years ago.”

“Right.” There was tension between them. I bet they had sex. I insist to myself that I’m not jealous, but my heart jolts and something thick and heavy settles in my stomach. 

His eyes flicker to mine for a moment, holding incredulity in them and killing any desire I had to ask something else. I don’t dare to feel anything else about this waitress and the summer he spent ‘hanging out’ with her. We both know that I haven’t got the right to. Our unspoken words hang big and heavy between us now, but we don’t say them, opting instead we make benign remarks about the weather, the movement of the sea, the atmosphere in the boat club, and when Clóda returns with our food we talk about that, how it’s tasty but not as tasty as other pancakes we’ve had in more exciting places. When we leave, Jude heads towards the village through the car park, but I stop him. A gentle breeze brushes my hair over my shoulders.

“Would you mind if we walked along the beach?”

“It will take longer.”

“If you really want to get home, that’s okay. But If you’re not in a big rush I think it’d be nice. I miss being by the sea.”

He considers this. “Okay. If you want.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[redwoodwv-hq]

Name: Liam Bryne Age: 45 Town Occupation: Hunter / Outside Security Previous Occupation: Legionnaire Redwood Resident Length: Old Redwood resident newly arrived Faceclaim: Pablo Schreiber

Bullet Points:

Liam is fluent in French , he does mostly use it with Tessa and Brady out of habit. They still refer to him as "capitaine" . It is also the language he uses to talk to his dog.

Liam trained Juno for detecting the undead and biting. She's a very intelligent and quick dog , a true asset.

On his trip , he aimed to look for information on what Penny had revealed. He found some data and samples he has brought back with him and plan to give to Penny eventually. He does not know if it is viable

Liam is really skilled to blend into forest/jungle areas, he used to be more of a tracker for David , but if he hunts, uses a crossbow instead of a rifle

Liam is an expert marksman , a lethal close -range combattant and lives still by the code of the Legionnaires

He's plagued by an underlining anger steming from different factors in his life , he loses patience rather quickly and will let you know. He hates cock fighting and finds it just ridiculous.

Biography:

Liam Bryne was born in Dublin to a modest family. His father was a teacher and his mother worked at a hotel nearby. His younger years, he spent a lot in the places nobody knew about at the hotel and the people there became some sort of extended family to him. There were no tragic events in his youth, and while he was not the best at school, he managed to stay away from most troubles. This would end when at 18 , his parents died in a car accident. It had been a harsh winter, the road was slippery, the car fell down a ravine. Liam survived but endured being with his parents for more than a day. He realized at the hospital how alone he was, how fast life could end and how lost he was. It took months for him to figure out what to do and get out of the grief enough to think of a future. He sold the house, he sold everything, and left. While Dublin had given him life, it had also taken his family, thus becoming a tomb to him.

He roamed through Europe for a while, trying to forget the accident, the smells, the pain. Liam tried to heal, but it seemed like the more he pushed it all away, the more it ate him. It came to the point where he decided to knock on that fateful iron gate in Paris. The emblem on the gate read “légion étrangère”  (foreign legion).  He had listened to people talking about it and felt compelled to give it a try. Their reputation was worldwide, respected and maybe feared by many, he did find a way in being a legionnaire. The training was intense to the point of him feeling physically sick, but it was also cathartic. For the first time since his family died, he felt like he belonged to this unit, brothers in arms. He would finish top of his class and go become a paratrooper.

By the time the virus hit, Liam acting captain was on a mission in South America. From the company a lot died within the first hours of contact. Long months followed; the orders last in were to go up to Canada. He was honestly not sure they would make it. In the end, only two remained by his side: Tessa and Brady. The trio eventually stumbled on Penny when Liam was wounded by savagers attacking. Even though he was injured, he put a lot of them down before collapsing. A fever struck and they stumbled on Redwood just in time to treat him. Showing the tough nature of being a Legionnaire, he was up and running before he should have. Honestly, he found hope in Redwood , and after discussing it with Tessa and Brady, they agreed that there wasn’t anyone to return to , probably. The radio had been still for a long time. So they joined, as hunters and protectors of the civilians. Their trio got a member more , a malinois he named Juno.

They were on a hunting trip when the reavers attacked but managed still come back to defend Redwood. A lot of blood was shed by the legionnaires on that day, who then proceeded to give them a burial themselves. Liam disagreed with a lot of the Beckett’s decisions but kept his anger at bay thanks to Penny. That , sadly only lasted until a night around a bonefire and a revelation that would push him off a wrong end. After a violent fight with her, the day after, he decided to leave, not giving any explanation, not even to David with whom he had bonded closely. In fact, he left things sour with a lot of people as he left. Tessa decided to join him, while Brady decided to remain. It has been months now, but it seems that a familiar face is to make a return to Redwood, bringing a cart with food and materials from his time away.

[drjohndisco]

Stardust - Stargate 1994 Reader Insert (Chapter 01)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Daniel/Sha'uri/Reader

[A/N] This is just for fun, so updates will be infrequent!! Also, will have two endings -- one where you stay, and one where you don't (since I'm indecisive.)

Tags: @geekygumiho (Tell me if you want to be added/removed!)

There was a knock at the door, which caused you to look up from your desk.

'What is it?'

'Dr. Jackson's arrived, Dr.(L/N)'

'He's here?' You asked. 'Daniel's here?'

It took everything in you to not sprint down the corridor. So, instead, you put down your papers and stood up, walking briskly past the man and down the hall.

++

When Daniel finally looked away from the black board he smiled the biggest grin he had in months and ran towards you, picking you up into a hug. You squeaked and put your arms around his shoulders.

'Daniel, I've missed you.' You mumbled when he released you and your feet were back on the ground. 'How long has it been? 4 months?'

'Only 3 and a half. It, uh, felt longer.'

'Well, that's what happens when you've got the military suddenly contracting you. You know I'd have contacted you if I could have.'

'Yeah, I do.' He mumbled, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly violently aware that Catherine and the others were waiting. Catherine laughed and Daniel took your hand, turning back around to face them.

'So, you've translated it then?' You asked.

'Yeah, just before you came in.'

'Oh, Daniel! That's amazing!'

'Thank you.' Daniel said. 'But I've got just one question, Catherine, why is the military so interested in 5,000 year old tablets?'

'My report says 10,000.' A man said. He was tall and was closed in dress uniform, with a close-cropped haircut. His lapel was decorated with many small coloured patches.

'Afternoon, Colonel.' Kawalsky said, saluting the man.

'Um, do I know you?' Catherine asked, looking him up and down.

'I'm Colonel Jack O'Neil from General West's office. I'm taking over from you.'

'This figure 10,00 is ludicrous. I mean, Egyptian culture didn't even exist--' Daniel murmured quietly under his breath. You smiled, and suppressed a laugh, of course Daniel was already showing up the base personnel.

'Mhmm.' Shore agreed. 'We know, but the sonic and radio carbon tests are conclusive.'

'Well, these are cover stones. Was there a tomb underneath?'

'No, no, no, but we found something more interesting.'

'Excuse me,' O'Neil interrupted. 'This information has been classified.'

At this Shore closed his mouth.

'From now on no information has been authorised to be passed on to non-military personnel.' This order was directed at Kawalsky, who nodded. O'Neil then turned around exited the room.

'Catherine, what's going on here?' Myers questioned.

'I'm not sure.' Catherine replied, before leaving the room and following after the Colonel.

Daniel then turned to you and shrugged at him. Just because you had some military clearance didn't mean you knew everything. Something else had to be afoot.

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, Chapter 15

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Seventh House icon) In which Hot Sauce gets sweet too.

Nona doesn't get to introduce Crown to her friends, but Honesty sees her leaving, and he and Born in the Morning play-fight over who Nona has to mention to Crown in future. Hot Sauce says she's glad Nona isn't dead.

Nona really looks at Hot Sauce, thinking of Pyrrha's warning. Hot Sauce's body language seems disconnected from her mind, and her burn scars sometimes make her hold herself in a way that defies Nona's senses. Just now, she looks tired, and her eyes look like she's been squinting, against a bright light or smoke.

Nona asks if Hot Sauce would be mad if she died. Hot Sauce says Nona is in her crew, of course. Nona asks Hot Sauce to promise not to be sad if she dies, because Nona doesn't like that look on Hot Sauce's face. Hot Sauce has a momentary look of surprise, before the others start joking about anyone being sad if Nona died.

After that, Hot Sauce doesn't say much, just watches the Angel and the window.

As TA, Nona is given the task of taking down old paintings and putting up fresh ones from last week. Hot Sauce holds the chair Nona stands on, and they can talk discreetly. Hot Sauce says the Angel was dropped off at the end of the street, in a car. Nona asks if that's good or bad. Hot Sauce says the watcher left this morning, when the Angel didn't arrive, but came back twenty minutes ago. It's an organized watch.(1) The Angel is definitely being protected.(2) Nona thinks how strange it is that the Angel is being watched, when her only apparent contribution to the world is being Noodle's human, and teaching the Hour of Science.(3)

The main teacher asks Nona if she's going home, at which point Nona realizes Cam hasn't come to get her. She asks if she can stay until someone comes, and the teacher looks momentarily troubled, then obviously tries to hide it, though Nona can still tell she's unsettled. She says of course Nona can stay, and there are packed lunches to spare since most of the children went home for lunch.

Hot Sauce says it's because there's going to be a broadcast.

“What?” This startled the teacher. “Do you mean from the government building? This is the first I’ve heard of it.” But when Hot Sauce stood there stolidly not elaborating, the teacher said, “And here’s us without a working radio. Hi, Aim!(4) Do you know anything about this?” The Angel came over. She had another coffee clutched in her hands and was stirring sugar into it vigorously, despite the fact that it was deep into the heat of the day. She said, “Heard what?”

The Angel acknowledges that she had heard there might be a broadcast, but who knows what it will be. The teacher thinks they might start announcing arrests over the port riots, but they used to put out a paper notice ahead of time. The Angel says they must have been in a hurry this time. The teacher starts to ask if they're going to hear about-- but the Angel suggests they talk away from little listening ears.

Nona suggests going to find a radio, but Hot Sauce says she knows what they'll say, and asks who's still here. Only Nona, Hot Sauce, and Kevin remain. Hot Sauce says Nona will stay, and Nona agrees, unless Cam comes to get her.

Nona didn’t want the packed lunch, but anyone who might care about what she ate was off in the kitchen, so she got to do exactly as she pleased. She sucked on ice cube after ice cube and then, in a gluttonous excess, chewed half a pencil to splinters. She loved the cool sandy core of grey stuff and the painted, painful crunch of the wood, which came away to bits in her teeth.(5) Hot Sauce watched, mild and unafraid, and drank a tiny sweating bottle of strawberry yoghurt drink.

Then they lay down on top of some nap mats, in the shadiest part of the room, though Nona is a little afraid of sleeping these days.(6) She asks Hot Sauce what the broadcast will be about, and Hot Sauce says, necromancers. She heard about it last night, and Nona remembers how Pyrrha saw her at the burn cages. Nona asks if Hot Sauce was at the park, at which Hot Sauce asks, non-judgementally, if Nona was there. No, Nona insists, she doesn't want to go to the park at night anyway. Nona asks if the you-know-whats died, and Hot Sauce says, too quickly: someone picked them off with a rifle.(7)

Nona asks if Hot Sauce and any others are... Hot Sauce raises a finger to her lips, to not say it out loud, then raises three fingers. Nona guesses Hot Sauce, Honestly, and someone else.

Hot Sauce nodded. Nona guessed again, “Born in the Morning.” “You mean Born in the Morning,” said Hot Sauce. “That’s what I said,” said Nona.(8)

Nona asks if it's the Blood of-- but Hot Sauce cuts her off again, and says not them, ever. They're traitors and zombie-lovers. Nona says not all of them are bad, though. Hot Sauce asks if Nona is, but Nona says, no, they just talk to her family sometimes. Hot Sauce says they sell her group guns.

Hot Sauce says she wishes Nona were her sister. Nona says she could be, if she wants. Hot Sauce says she only ever had brothers. Nona asks about Hot Sauce's family, and how they died. Hot Sauce tells of a confrontation with some House forces. Nona shudders several times, and at the end, Hot Sauce asks if she has "air-con sweats."

“No,” said Nona, and it was the first time she had admitted it to anyone, or at least anyone who wasn’t herself. Some deep well of need and terror welled up in her, and then—before she could walk it back, and without even really wanting to—she did it. She told Hot Sauce the Secret.(9)

Hot Sauce thinks about it for a very long time, and suggests that Nona visit the clinic the Angel works at. Nona is delighted and says that must be how Hot Sauce knew she was a doctor. Still, it won't help, says Nona, and Hot Sauce has to promise not to tell anyone at all. Hot Sauce does, then gets up to take off her coat, but Nona insists she put it over the sleeping Kevin instead of herself. Hot Sauce obliges, and Kevin wriggles in sleepy puppyish delight.

Nona felt a great sense of peace and calm when Hot Sauce came and lay back down beside her: she let her eyelids flutter down, and was annoyed when they did not want to flutter back up. She struggled heroically to keep them open, even using her fingers, until Hot Sauce stopped her. “You can sleep if you want,” said Hot Sauce. “I’ll be here.” “You won’t tell, will you, Hot Sauce?” “No,” said Hot Sauce. And: “I’m here, Nona. I’ll look after you.” “I love you, Hot Sauce,” she said. Exhausted, Nona felt Hot Sauce touch her hand, very lightly, very gently. The last thing she heard before falling asleep was Hot Sauce saying, “Don’t be soppy.” But it didn’t sound like she meant it.

=====

(1) Ah, but the Angel's schedule matches Nona's today. Are they really watching one, or the other? (2) I'm not 100% sure if Hot Sauce's implication is that the watcher is a guard or someone malicious that the Angel is being guarded against. It seems likely she thinks the watcher is a guardian, but I can't be sure either way. (3) A good reminder that people's lives are always more than we see. Even those we live with and see for most of the day can and perhaps should have rich, full lives that we don't see all of, even if those are internal rather than external. (4) That's a bit of an odd name… though, with all these hymn names running around, maybe not so much. There's certainly some hymns with "aim" in the titles, like "God send us men whose aim ’twill be". (5) Pica (eating non-food, often manifests as craving ice or dirt) is usually a sign of nutritional deficiency… but since Nona's body situation is, uh, complicated, we can have no guarantee that this is why she likes eating pencils. (6) I thought Nona liked her dreams. Why would she be afraid of sleeping? (7) Definitely Pyrrha's reason for being there. (8) Nona has a gift for languages… is she translating names like words? Which other names is she translating for the reader?

[gaymer-hag-stan]

I came across a GameRant article that is suggesting that "The upcoming Crystal Dynamics Tomb Raider game should refresh Lara Croft by using her archeological skills to preserve instead of destroy." and more specifically that it should "depict accurate archeological techniques and show Lara working with a team of fellow archeologists during her next adventure." while also citing the fact that "Lara is sometimes a bit too callous while exploring -- frequently destroying ruins, hacking at ancient structures with her climbing axes, and absconding with rare and powerful artifacts." as a drawback.

I'm sorry but that is a shit take 🤣

Lara is an archaeologist yes, but, like Indiana Jones or Nathan Drake, she's "not a regular mum, she's a cool mum". She does all these illegal and morally questionable stuff that would be absolutely, unanimously, condemned in our own world, and Crystal actually made the fact that people actively criticize Lara in her own world as a part of her backstory all the way back in 2006.

But that's what makes the character interesting and, most importantly, who she is as a character.

Lara is not a hero. She's not outright evil or a psychopath, like some fans like to suggest, and she would never actively try to destroy the world just to add another artefact to her collection, but if she happens to save the world it's most likely a happy accident because she initially set out to find a new artifact to add to her collection and ended up having to dispose evil maniacs along the way. More personal stakes involving her family have been added in both the Legend and the Reboot trilogies, but Lara is still in it for the treasure. I mean heck it's in the game's title 🤣 she is a tomb raider first and foremost. The series is not called Hero, or Explorer or Archaeologist. It's called Tomb Raider. Lara and the premise of the series itself is inherently problematic. They tried to excuse her stealing artifacts and destroying tombs in Shadow by making it look like she has to do those things to prevent the apocalypse but all it did was end up flirting too much with the boundaries of portraying her as a white saviour to the Paititians.

Lara should absolutely never ever again have other people on the field with her, and the Survivor trilogy, whether knowingly or by chance I'm not yet sure, perfectly illustrated that people like the Endurance Crew or Jonah being on expeditions with her are an active hindrance because none of them could keep up with her and she ended up needing to save them from harm almost all the time. Lara should absolutely have allies around her but they should stay the fuck home. Have Zip and Alister chat with her via radio, sure. Have Jonah or Anaya or Sam or Von Croy pop in to give her tips on artifacts or sites she could potentially investigate, that's great. But she should be doing the raiding part alone. She always worked better alone and it should stay that way. You don't need to have people next to her at all times to portray a bond with them or flesh out her personality and character. Lara doesn't need to have someone to talk to at all times to be relatable or interesting.

Furthermore, the author suggests that previous titles' more supernatural or unrealistic elements like Lara fighting dinosaurs in the first three games and Anniversary (they actually only site Anniversary, which makes me think that maybe they don't have enough experience with the series in the first place) or having a super-powered doppelgänger in Underworld were interfering with Lara being portrayed as a knowledgeable archaeologist. I'm sorry but this suggests to me a clear lack of media literacy.

Lara is always the smartest person in any room she walks in, she is shown deciphering ancient texts, like ancient Egyptian, Greek or Mongolian, and speaking various foreign languages, from Japanese to Russian, with ease. She knows and informs players, and sometimes her own allies, on the myths she's currently investigating. Ever since as early as Anniversary, she also gives players detailed descriptions of the artifacts players find, and in the Survivor games they went the extra mile of having recorded voiceovers of Lara's descriptions of the artifacts and I think this is where Camilla shines the most as an actress because you can actually hear the excitement in her voice as she giddily describes her new find, or her disappointment when she read a "made in China" tag on one artifact in TR 13. If the writer, or any player for that matter, paid more attention to the dinosaurs and the supernatural stuff than the actual archaeology and not the actual archeological knowledge Lara has, that's not the games' fault, and no amount of making things overly realistic will change that, just like dressing and modelling Lara in a more realistic way didn't stop players, gay and straight alike, from gushing about Lara's thick ass (in Shadow specifically) or making sexy mods.

Honestly, yes, making more grounded and realistic games and characters is a good thing, because variety is a good thing to have in general. Making every single game and character realistic is not fun, however, not necessary and, ultimately, not gonna help make a game more successful or more popular or more fun, which is the thing that matters the most. Realistic does not always mean entertaining.

Ultimately, if you feel like Lara Croft being portrayed as a reckless treasure hunter fighting dinosaurs is not entertaining, maybe Tomb Raider just isn't for you? And this is not me trying to gatekeep, but just like I keep saying to all the Core fans who have been crying for almost two decades now about Crystal "destroying" Tomb Raider and Lara Croft but still continue to buy every single game, every single DLC and every single merchandise that comes out, if the series no longer provides what you specifically want, maybe you just need to move on and give your money and time on the things you actually like.

And yes, games and media do impact how we think and act in real life situations, but just because I think it's fun when Lara steals things and keeps them for herself just because she wants to, I don't think the British Museum or the Louvre doing the exact same thing is okay. Context matters.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“DUFRESNE PRAISES MONTREAL POLICE,” Montreal Star. November 8, 1932. Page 3 & 11. --- Director Willing to Compare Local Force With Any Other ---- The new police radio service will not be inaugurated before the end of the week more likely the beginning of next week, Director Fernand Dufresne stated this morning. He is glad to be back in the harness again after his trip to Rome, and is quite well satisfied with the way in which the police force has operated during his absence and the condition in which he finds on his return. 

His trip to Europe has filled him with a greater appreciation than ever of his home town and a full measure of pride in the police force over which he presides, If he is given the more commodious quarters that he has asked for, he is prepared to contend that Montreal's police force will stand comparison with any organization of its kind on this continent. 

ATTENDED FUNCTIONS During his stay in Rome, in addition to the sessions of the international convention of police heads which he went there to attend, he and his fellow delegates took part in a number of ceremonial functions, principal among which were the laying of wreaths on the tomb of the unknown Italian soldier and the commemoration of the tenth anniversary of the Inauguration of the Metropolitan Police in Italy. Dr. Brendt, head of the Austrian police, laid a wreath on the military tomb in the name of the police officers in convention. 

During the gathering, at the instigation of the American delegation, a resolution was passed appointing a committee to meet representatives of the American Association of Police Chiefs, with a view to fostering closer co-operation between American and European police authorities and the maintenance of a fuller documentation regarding international criminals. 

It was not entirely a pleasure trip, the chief said. “First, there is the long sea voyage. I am a good sailor. I do not get sick. But there is not much to do on board ship. Then the long train journey. I prefer our trains to those in Europe. And arrived in Rome, a week of hard work at the convention sessions and attending official function which are sometimes hard work, too." 

LUGGAGE LOST To make matters less agreeable, the chief's luggage got lost and he found himself handicapped by the lack of his principal trunk during his first few days in Rome. Fortunately, he arrived there a few days ahead of time and the trunk turned up before the convention had gone very far. Meantime, however, he had had to buy a lot of new clothes to carry on with until the baggage came to light.

He did not go sight-seeing. He had no time. All his time while in Rome was taken up with the convention and he had little leisure for pleasure seeking. Everyone was very cordial and courteous, the authorities at Rome and his 'fellow delegates to the convention, who came from all parts of Europe as well as from Canada and the United States. Practically all the European delegates were Government officials, as in most European countries the police force is a Government organisation under control of an officer of the Government. 

GLAD TO BE HOME "I am glad to be back home and I appreciate Montreal more than ever,” he concluded. "And I think very highly of the organisation of our Montreal police force, an organisation which I do not take any credit for. It was set up by others long before. If I can get the building that I want for Montreal force, it will stand comparison with any force of any kind anywhere on this continent," he concluded. The chief was downtown bright and early this morning, renewing contact with the business of the police force. Later in the forenoon, he crossed to the City Hall and called on the members of the Executive Committee.

[journalist-jared]

Day 2

I did so much laundry!

I folded and put away my dried laundry that was hanging up, I washed and hung up a load, striped my bed cloths and washed them and re-made my bed.

Laundry is the hardest chore for me. I can usually get most chores done with minimal struggle, laundry is different because you get one part of it done and then completely stop to wait for the machine to finish its cycle or dry. For me getting things done is all about momentum. If I can drag myself out of bed and start my day with small victories like showering and having a good breakfast I can usually chain that into more chores and getting more things done.

Today I managed to do all of that and feel good the whole time! I also managed to go for a walk and wash the dog. However, last night sucked. I stayed up way too late getting Obsidian working and synced with my phone. Once that was done I just kept adding things to my notes. Once I dragged myself away from my PC I couldn't find the peace needed for sleep, I kept worrying about the campaign or remembering cards I wanted to add to my Magic decks but forgot to write it down at the time.

And so to my worries about the campaign. I finished reading the base hunters in Monster of the Week and am not convinced that there is a seamless translation of rule set to campaign setting. Despite my previous blog, I feel that the rule set is too focussed on the supernatural and will not leave room for me to create the kinds of Sci-fi plots from Stargate.

I have an alternate campaign in mind if I'm unable to overcome this hurdle. I've only ever played in Swords and Sorceries settings or official modules in D&D, I have played a handful of games in Warhammer 40K but I've wanted to run or play in some kind of modern magic setting in D&D for a while. After watching Dimension 20's Unsleeping City I had the kernel of an idea for a similar game set in my home town of Melbourne Australia. The cornerstone of the Unsleeping City is the phrase If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere and I thought about a similar phrase that heard on the radio almost constantly as a child , Melbourne is the world's most livable city. And it hit me, livable means that Necromantic magic is quit easy in Melbourne and what would happen if Melbourne was suddenly no longer the Worlds most livable city as I remember a time when Melbourne suddenly lost that title. Now that I've grown up I don't know if that was a statistical based appraisal of life in Melbourne or some competition run by a newspaper.

The idea for Unsleeping City: Melbourne (better name pending) would be Necromancy and undead monsters like vampires are easy and common in this Unsleeping City. Melbourne's equivalent of The Gramercy Occult Society would be tasked primarily with ensorcelling the recently deceased so that their remains could not be raised by necromancers. The Taboo of defiling human corpses would still remain, most necromancers that animate dead would therefore use non-human remains to create servants and tools. Other forms of Necromancy like those in the Locked Tomb series, various ways of manipulating Death Energy are enhanced or easier to achieve in Melbourne. Melbourne's Gramercy Occult Society would also police the Unsleeping City to keep despotic or tyrannical Necromancers from harming others. And the campaign would be about what would happen to the various enclaves if Melbouren where to no longer be the Worlds most Livable city or about trying to prevent a plot from unseating Melbourne as the World's most Livable city.

So, to Monster of the Week. I have this safety net in case things won't work as perfectly as I'd like them to. But this is one of the things that I am trying to overcome, I've learnt that I tend to abandon projects and hobbies if I'm not perfect at them. I'll even avoid starting on new things for the fear of potential failure. I realised today that I'm avoiding playing in a setting because I'm afraid that it will not be perfect and that I don't have the capacity to deliver the story that I want in this setting. And then I thought what if I'm also not able to deliver with Unsleeping City: Melbourne?

But instead of making me more afraid of the prospect of running the game, this thought was liberating. Not because I'm okay with failing, I'm still terrified of that, but because I have no capacity to avoid failing. I have no way of knowing if this is going to work because I don't know what my players want or what they're going to ask or how they will respond to the setting and rule set. And if it's not possible to not fail, then I should just play in the setting that I want to and do my best to deliver a fun time for my friends.

And who knows, I could always just play in Unsleeping City: Melbourne later.

[leopoldainter]

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