#The Taste of Storm and Brine

[jolieeason]

The Taste of Storm and Brine (The Talisman Series: Book 5.5) by Brett Salter

Publisher: Date of publication: February 26th, 2024 Genre: Middle Grade, Fantasy Series: The Talisman Series The Search for Synergy—Book 1 (review here) Riders of Fire and Ice—Book 2 (review here) Windy City Ruins—Book 3 (review here) The Battle for Verdana—Book 4 (review here) Slumber of Silence—Book 4.5 (review here) Desperate Tides, Desperate Measures—Book 5 (review here) The Taste…

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts

Chapter 1 - Long Live the King!

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Next

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The Mafia world is on edge when Steve Harrington comes back to town to take over for his father. His presence sets off a whirlwind of emotions that you'd thought you'd buried long ago.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Reader is married to an abusive asshole (this will get worse as the story progresses). Reader is assaulted. Talk of death. Funeral. Drug use/abuse.

WC: 6.1K

You crept through the foyer, hoping the small sound of the door closing wouldn’t rouse anyone in the large house.

Removing your heels from your stocking clad feet, so that you could silently move through the room and quickly check your surroundings, pausing, listening. You were met with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your chest.

You thought you were in the clear, but your false sense of security was quickly shattered, rounding the corner only to be met with your husband’s steely glare. A cigarette and stiff drink in hand. He was home early.

Nikolai was a large, intimidating man with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that threatened to set anyone aflame that came near.

He was sitting in front of the large fireplace in the study. When you caught his gaze, he bid you to come forward as he set the drink down. Brining the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before resting it alongside his drink.

Dressed in his usual suit, his jacket left on the chair behind him, leaving him in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms revealing an expanse of black ink beneath.

You shuffled forward slowly, crossing your arms behind your back with your heels still dangling from your fingertips.

“Tough day, my love?” he cooed, in a sickly-sweet voice that would almost sound sincere to anyone else. His lips turned up into a cruel smirk as he turned to look at you.

You hated it when he called you that. There was only one man that said it and ever truly meant it.

“You know exactly how my day has been.” You hissed, already over his little games.

“Now kitten, a little birdie told me you were seen with him. Though, it doesn't come as a surprise.” Calm tone, but you knew that was about to change. The literal calm before the storm.

“Nik,” you started, his palm met your cheek with a sharp smack that echoed in the otherwise quiet space, along with the thud of your heels that fell from your grasp. Your eye instantly welled, unable to control the tears forming from the force of his blow. Pain instantly searing the skin.

You could taste the familiar metallic tang in your mouth, as you reached up trying to soothe the discomfort. Yet another bruise to hide in the morning.

Ever defiant, you raise your head slowly, to meet his cold, indifferent gaze.

He gripped your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

“Now, kitten,” no feeling whatsoever behind those words.

“This kind of behavior just won’t do for my reputation. I can't let you go whoring around with him out in public, making me look like a fool in the process.”

He removed his hand slightly, only to cup your cheek engulfing it with his large palm. It was tender, a stark contrast to the pain he had just inflicted. Raised welts beginning to form under his touch.

Playing this same game a dozen times over, you know how it ends. One moment an enraged monster, the next a doting husband.

He pushed your face a little harshly, putting some distance between you to take his leave.

“Clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. Your father will be joining us.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, catching the back of your head pressing you closer to his larger frame. You made no attempt to push him away, knowing it would only spur his anger.

He released you, grabbing his jacket and turning back one last time before he spoke.

“And kitten, end it. Or I will.”

Your father, the head of the crime ring. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne.

You didn’t want any of it. Caught in the middle and destined to forever be separated from the man you loved.

You thought you were being careful. You both should have known better.

8 Weeks Earlier

The gallery you managed downtown was your escape from all things family or business related. Here you could be your own person, not feeling bound by duty or marriage. It was your grandmother that instilled a love of art within you at a very young age taking you to art exhibits or museums around the city. You fell in love with the beauty and feeling of it all.

A new piece had just been delivered that you were examining, thoroughly ignoring your surroundings as usual, much too focused on the matter at hand.

You hadn’t heard him enter, as he came to stand directly behind you, pressed in much too close.

Tiny glasses perched toward the end of your nose; he watched the way you were so intently focused on nothing else in the world carefully focusing, stopping only to write small notes on the clipboard in your grasp.

“Little Dove,” clearing his throat slightly, startling you a bit.

You whirled around, only to be met with golden caramel mossy framed eyes staring back at you. The nickname uttered from his lips like soft silk.

“Steve?” you asked, almost breathless. You thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw him again.

“In the flesh.” He grinned softly, holding his arms out as if showing himself off. Dressed in a navy-blue pinstripe suit and gray turtleneck that you were sure came straight from Italy just as he had.

“What… What are you doing here?” your tone more whispered as you looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“It’s ok, I made sure to slip past them. Your tails… uh… aren’t that great.” He whispered back in a mocking tone, chuckling lightly.

“You look…” you studied the man before you. “You look different, good.”

The last time you had seen Steve he still had his boyish features, but a man stood before you now. Rugged, but clean cut, sporting shorter, more tamed hair with slight stubble lining his jaw. He was even more handsome than you remembered. Italy seemed to be treating him well.

There was an air about him that commanded attention. When he entered a crowded room, he knew everyone would fall in line. A far cry from that party boy years ago. A boy that only ever had eyes for one girl, the woman stood before him now.

“Tesoro, leave it to you to find a job surrounded by beauty but you are the most beautiful piece here.” He smiled that crooked grin that always made you melt, his words syrupy sweet, cheeks heating at the praise.

You clutched the clipboard in your hands closer to your chest, face casting downward as an attempt to hide the blush that crept across your face.

You'd been told you were beautiful by countless men your entire life but when it came from the one man that mattered you turned into a shy mess.

His attention suddenly made it feel like all those years ago, hiding away in a dark corner as he spoke sweet nothings into your ear. Trailing kisses down your neck. Telling you the endless things he'd do for you, or to you.

Two young lovers hidden away from the world with nothing but dreams in their heads and stars in their eyes. Still naive to how cruel and unfair the world could truly be.

Eight years since you've seen him and yet staring at him before you it's as if not a single day has passed. It would be so easy to pick up where you left off, if only…

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing the only reason he'd be back, shifting your gaze back to him.

“I'm sorry to hear about your father.” His smile fading as he nodded. “I know you two never saw eye to eye, but…”

“It’s okay Dove.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, eyes casting downward. “It was only a matter of time. He'd been hiding the cancer diagnosis for months now.”

So, it wasn't a rival family or hired hitman that took him out. It was cancer. Everyone had been wondering when the news had come.

“I was still sorry to hear it, Steve.” You hesitantly reached out and rested your hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “How's Pip holding up?”

Steve's younger sister, never seeing the cruel side of Richard Harrington the way he had. Pip was his Princess and she never let anyone forget that. She went to live with her mother when she was very young, only seeing Richard on holidays and birthdays. It was only natural she was devastated from his death.

“About as well as you'd expect. She uh…” pausing to scratch at his brow. A habit he always had when he was trying to find his words. “She's not doing well. I'm not sure how she's going to get through it tomorrow. I’m sending her back to live with mamma. I think it'll do her some good to get out of the city for a while.”

You didn't pry, knowing Pip was a little reckless and wild. She always gave Steve a run for his money when they were younger. Seems things hadn't changed much for her.

“I'm surprised she's listening to you.” You laughed out.

“I'm not giving her a choice.” You nodded in understanding. Steve was already taking his new role as head of the family very seriously, but you'd expect nothing less.

He was born to one day take over for his father, trained and taught all the ins and outs of this life from a very young age. He would, no doubt in your mind, lead the entire city one day, especially hearing the rumors from across the sea about how ruthless he could be, but you couldn't quite imagine the Steve you once knew to be anything but the kind, caring gentleman before you.

In this world, those kinds of assumptions are what get you killed, and you knew full well Steve had changed. You were unsure of just how much.

As comfortable silence fell between you, he allowed himself to let his eyes linger over you once more. Your back stiffened as you looked from the entrance back to him, shattering this moment of peace as reality settled back in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington it's been nice seeing you, but I must get back to work before those two idiots do their walk through to check up on me.”

“Ms. Alexander.” He smiled, nodding his goodbye.

“It's Mrs. Alexander-Petrov, but you know that.” He did know, but his jaw tightened when he heard it spoken aloud. To imagine you and Nikolai Petrov together made his blood boil.

Little Niki had been a vile womanizer. He and Steve knew each other from boyhood and their father’s dealings. He just hoped he was good to you and worships you the way he himself wishes he could.

“Right. Apologies Mrs. Alexander-Petrov. I'll see myself out. Take care, Tesoro.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi.” You called after him.

“Of course, Dove.” Stopping to look at you one last time.

You watched him exit out the back, through the alleyway.

There was still something there. That spark you couldn't deny. Maybe it was just you looking for closure but deep down you knew it would never truly be over between you. He

was your first love, always hoping he would have been your last.

It was a somber affair with a huge turnout. The Church was packed full of mournful guests.

For a funeral, it was still lavish. Old world money mixed with new. Women flaunting their Gucci or Louis Vuitton came second nature. Men with their expensive suits and gold watches. Any excuse to flaunt the wealth they had accumulated.

Family and business associates mingled, sewing together their tales and fond memories of the late Richard Harrington.

If you looked closely at the crowd, you could spot a few enemies mixed within, come to see the bastard exactly where they'd wished him to be.

As is tradition, you didn't necessarily come to pay respect to the dead, but you still paid respect to the family.

Steve and Pip, at the head of the church, accepting well wishes from each person that passed by. Eddie stood a few feet away giving them space but if anyone truly knew him, he was just as much family as the Harrington siblings.

Steve was stoic. From the moment you spotted him, you could tell he was trying to be strong. You couldn't help thinking of how handsome he looks, even in this setting. Pip could never hide her emotions, every person she talked with sent a fresh wave of tears flowing.

You had accompanied your father, David Alexander. Nikolai had excused himself from coming at the last minute, saying he had an emergency to take care of at the club. You didn't buy his lie but didn't bother arguing.

You had dressed simply, all black like the rest of the crowd. Knee length, quarter sleeved dress. Tight, but not suffocating. Modest compared to Pip’s attire. That girl never knew how to do anything simple or modest, her flamboyant personality would never allow it.

You both stood in line to see them, your eyes darting back up to Steve every few minutes.

“You're too quiet. What's eating at you?” Your dad leaned over to whisper.

“Hmm?” Your eyes shot up to his. “Nothing, just a lot on my mind.”

He squinted down at you as your head drifted toward the front once again. He followed your gaze, softly smiling to himself.

“Steven’s looking well, no? That boy has really grown into his own.”

You placed your arm around his when he extended his elbow, comfortably settling your hand to his forearm as he led you down the aisle.

“Yes, he looks well.” You hummed and nodded.

Your father grinned to himself as your eyes traveled back toward the front. He patted your hand and sighed as the line in front of you began to dwindle.

The couple ahead of you peeled themselves away from the siblings. Revealing you and your father to them.

Steve's eyes lit up immediately, but he held his solemn expression trying not to give himself away.

Your father spoke up first.

“Steven, my boy,” holding out his hand to greet him. “It's good to see you. My condolences, to you and your sister.”

Steve shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“Please, call me David, son.” It made your heart warm faintly at the thought of your father seeing Steve for not only the man he now was but as an equal, first name basis was usually left for business partners or family only. Your father commanded an air of respect, especially from other families.

Their small talk faded from you as you looked over at Pip. She was so different from the last time you'd seen her. Her frame appearing thin with a sickly pallor accompanying dark sunken eyes.

When she spotted you staring at her, she smiled sweetly, reaching out to hug you.

“Dove!” She almost shrieked.

Your arms hugged her tightly to your chest, confirming what your eyes had seen. She was thin, strikingly so, filling you with worry.

“Pip, I’m so sorry sweet girl.” You soothingly rubbed her back, as a sob racked her body. You let her shed a few tears as she sniffed and leaned back up wiping at her cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, it's just hard knowing he's truly gone. But it's so good to see you. Let's catch up soon.” You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. She didn't let go immediately, grasping a little harder.

“Dove, will you please sit with me during the service?” Her eyes softly pleading, reminding you of your days as children when she would beg you to play a game or watch a movie instead of hanging out with her brother. She was by all accounts your little sister too.

“If it's alright with Steve, I…”

“Steve doesn't care. Do you, Stevie?” Her hand flew up, batting his chest as he gritted his teeth releasing a harsh breath.

“Not at all, Dove. But only if you're comfortable with…”

“She's fine Steve. Thank you, Dove!” She hugged you once more as you heard Steve mumble, “anything for the Princess.”

She shot him a glare before releasing you as you turned your attention toward him.

“Steve, I'm so sorry.” You wound your arms around his neck. His stiff demeanor immediately deflated and melted with your soft touch as his arms found their way around your waist, pressing you further into him. His scent enveloped you, smelling of the warm, spicy cologne he wore.

You held each other for a moment too long, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace, finally coming to your senses and easing back.

“I guess I'll see you up there.” Taking a step further back, seeing him nod.

“I…” He was about to speak before someone cut him off with more condolences as you shied away searching for your father who had already taken a seat in the back, speaking with some men that ran in his circle.

You weaved your way in and out of the crowd. Chatting with familiar faces and being polite to those you didn't quite know.

As the music began to play, everyone found their respective seats for the service to begin. You made your way to the front, feeling eyes on you as you went.

Pip was seated right beside Steve, but once she spotted you, she scooted over. Patting the space between the two of them.

You sat closer to her, trying not to crowd Steve into the corner.

“Thank you, Dove.” She whispered, taking your hand in hers. Black gloves covering her dainty fingers.

“Of course.” You stared ahead, trying not to cut your eyes over to him. The small space between you didn't shield you from the heat that radiated from him.

He remained quiet, but you heard him sigh softly. You wished you could hold his hand and bring him some sense of comfort. In another time and place you could imagine taking your seat beside him without the judgmental looks and hushed whispers.

The service went swiftly, Pip leaning on your shoulder and clutching your hand the entire time as she sobbed and sniffled. Steve maintained the same level of stoicism throughout.

You lost your mother at a very young age. The loss of a parent is something you never truly get over. You could relate in some sense, though you never truly knew your mother.

“Dove, you can ride with us to the cemetery. There's more than enough room.” She leaned over to whisper while they were finishing up, garnering Steve's attention as well.

“Pip.” He hissed, throwing her a warning glare.

“What?” She whispered more loudly, looking past you then.

“I'm sure she doesn't have all day to babysit you.” He said it without looking back at her.

You could see the sadness slowly subside on her face, as it was replaced with anger.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She spat, getting up from her seat, loud in the relatively quiet space while the priest was finishing his last prayer, momentarily causing him to pause, as she stomped down the aisle.

You were taken aback by the outburst but not surprised. Pip was a loose cannon, especially when it came to Steve. Two such domineering personalities that always clashed.

He was about to get up, but you grabbed his forearm stopping him, as he looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, don't worry. I'll go after her. You stay.” You reassured him.

“You don't have to do that. She's just…” he whispered.

“No, it's okay. Let me go talk to her.”

He nodded, as you slid from the seat. Holding your head high as you followed her, avoiding sideways gazes thrown your way.

You found her sitting on the steps outside the church, smoking a cigarette. Her mascara had begun to run but she hasn't bothered trying to wipe it away this time.

“Hey, you.” You lowered yourself down, knocking your shoulder into hers as you sat.

She took a long drag, exhaling toward the sky as the smoke curled away from her lips, letting the ashes fall to the concrete beside her.

“He doesn't have to treat me like a child. I know I've got issues but I'm not a fucking child. Mr. I don't show my emotions so you shouldn't either. Our dad died. You think the least he could do is show me a little compassion or act like he gives a shit.” She released a tagged sigh, taking the cigarette to her lips once more.

“I don't think he necessarily means to make you feel like that. Steve has a lot on his shoulders and your dad, well… he and Steve never saw eye to eye. I know he's hurting too, but he has to be strong. You know how it is with these men.” You rubbed soothing circles to her back as you spoke.

She sniffed, pulling a tissue out to wipe her face.

“I can ride to the cemetery with you. I don't mind.”

“That'd be nice.” A faint smile crossed her face, as you wrapped your arm around her waist. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Wait for me?”

“Of course.” You helped her up, following her back into the lobby as the service ended, watching her disappear into the restroom.

You caught your father on his way out, letting him know you were going with them, and he could head home if he needed to.

“If you're sure.” He kissed your forehead, before leaving you to stand by the door waiting for her to exit, when Steve strode up beside you.

“Where's Pip?!” He asked, a little breathless.

“She's in the restroom.” As soon as you got the sentence out, he began to bang on the door, twisting the knob.

“Steve, what're you doing? For God's sake, give her a little privacy.” You pleaded.

“Pip, open the goddamn door.” He rushed out, pounding his fists harder than before, looking worried when he was met with silence.

“Steve?” You looked around, a crowd slowly gathering around at his outburst.

“Just step back, I'm knocking the door down.”

You did as you were told, with your heart beginning to pound in your chest at how worried he seemed.

“Pip, I'm coming in!” He shouted, before his shoulder slammed into it, knocking it open as he rushed in.

You turned the corner to see Pip, slumped over against the back wall passed out. Your mind didn't comprehend what you were seeing at first.

He knelt down beside her, pulling her face up and lightly slapping her cheek.

“Pip! Wake up! Goddamnit!” His fingers flew to her neck, checking for a pulse.

It all seemed to be happening in slow motion as you watched the scene unfold. Eddie rushed in beside you, as Steve yelled at him to bring the car around, lifting her up with him from the ground, moving aside as he passed you.

It was frantic, the sea or people parting to let them go by as you stood there in shock. Watching Steve run with her lifeless body in tow.

Only coming to your senses when you hear someone close by seemingly laughing at the scene. “Pip, always the life of the party.” They sneered.

You looked around the small bathroom, spotting her purse on the floor, quickly picking it up and taking it with you avoiding the gazes of onlookers but keeping your head held high all the way.

Richard Harrington was buried while colleagues and friends looked on. None of his children were there to see him interred.

You were ringing your hands in the back seat as your chauffeur took you across town the next morning. Nerves getting the better of you.

It has been years since you've seen the Harrington residence but as soon as it comes into view memories begin to flood your mind.

There were the sweet moments when you were young children. Playing in the garden or swimming in the pool. You, Steve and Pip. Much simpler times when a game of hide and seek could keep you all occupied for hours.

Isabella Harrington had finally had enough right after Steve turned 10, leaving Richard and taking Pip with her back to Italy. She didn't leave Steve to fend for himself intentionally but given the option of losing both her children or taking Pip, she has no other choice.

Suddenly, the play dates were dwindling, and you began to see less and less of Steve. Separate schools made it even harder but despite it all you remained close.

You'd been in love with Steve since you were 12 when he told you that one day he was going to marry you and gave you your first kiss behind the pool house.

So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't heard the driver or noticed the car had stopped.

“Miss? Are you alright?” He said a little louder, catching your attention and thoroughly pulling you from your daydream.

“Hmmmm? Yes, fine, thank you.” Replying quickly.

“We’ve arrived, Mrs. Petrov.” He said as he exited the car, coming around to get your door.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you removed yourself, neck craning upward. The house seemed bigger, more intimidating than you remembered.

Immediately clocking several security personnel stationed in various positions around the yard, no doubt already alerting him to your arrival as you stepped across the cobblestone drive, heels a little unsteady against the uneven stone.

Reaching the few steps to the large front door, it opened before you had the chance to knock.

“Hi stranger!” Eddie beamed down at you. Curls tied back into a low bun, still dressed to impress. Burgundy silk dress shirt thrown over his frame, tattooed forearms on display. He was handsome in his own right.

“Hi Eddie! How have you been?” You stepped closer to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Sorry we didn't get to chat yesterday.”

“Doing well, and don't sweat it. There was a lot going on.” He laughed, albeit a little nervously as he pulled back. “He's in the office, you can follow me.”

You remembered the layout fairly well, the office was at the back of the house on the first floor. A large space, with windows overlooking the expanse of the back garden.

Eddie walked quietly ahead of you, as you looked around the house. It was exactly as you remembered. Dark walls with marble flooring leading to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

He didn't bother knocking, as you followed him in. The curtains were drawn back from the windows letting the natural light illuminate the space.

Steve leaned against the far wall staring out the window. He was dressed down in a sky blue short sleeved shirt and cream-colored trousers. He turned, chestnut locks a little unkempt with a thin gold chain resting against his chest.

He turned in time to see you both enter, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway.

“Dove! What a pleasant surprise.” He flashed you a warm smile, turning to dismiss Eddie as he closed the door behind him.

“I brought Pip’s clutch.” Holding out for him to take.

“Thanks, I'll let her know. Though I'm not sure she even missed it.” He sighed, easing it from your hand, tossing it to the desk beside him.

You'd heard she'd barely made it to the hospital. Apparently, the coke she had ingested was laced with fentanyl. Pip was a party girl, she hadn't intentionally tried to overdose which was a relief, all things considered.

“How is she?” You asked.

“I honestly don't know. I thought she…” His face flashed with momentary worry, before shaking it off. “She's going to rehab before I send her back to Italy. I think this might have actually scared some sense into her even though she's pissed at me.”

“You're doing the right thing. She needs you to be there for her.” Reassuring him.

He nodded before you both fell into a comfortable silence as your eyes took in the room. He had already begun renovating it to his liking which made you smile.

“I thought it could use an update.” He said, as if reading your mind.

The wallpaper was being taken down, replaced with a fresh coat of paint. Steve has always hated his father's gaudy taste, as if he needed to remind himself of his wealth in his own office. Steve was humble, he didn't need to flaunt and inflate himself to others. You admired him for that, always staying true to himself.

“I'm sure it'll be perfect. Doing the whole house, I hope? The medieval dungeon theme is so last year.” He chuckled.

“You don't like it? I thought about adding some chains and cuffs in the hall to really set it off.” You both laughed.

“But, yes I'm planning an overhaul for the entire house.” For a moment he wondered what you would do with the place. He could imagine the way your eyes lit up knowing you could make it your own.

A place for you and him to raise a couple of kids, have family dinners every Sunday and eventually grow old together. Or would you want to move out of the city altogether? Sell this old house and start anew?

If only he knew the similar thoughts that swirled through your mind but you couldn't allow yourself to dwell.

You suddenly checked your watch, clearing your throat.

“I'm sorry to cut this short, I've got a client coming by in a few.” Sighing to yourself.

“No worries. I'll let Pip know you brought this by.” Holding her purse up for emphasis. “Let me walk you out.”

He followed closely behind you down the hall, just shy of reaching his palm out to your lower back, into the foyer as one of the security guards opened the front door.

You turned once more to bid him farewell but it was he who spoke first.

“Dove, you're welcome here anytime. Please, stop by. I'll even show you my fancy cooking skills sometime.” He grinned, the smile reaching his eyes, boyish and bright.

“Steve Harrington cooks? This I'll have to see.” Mirroring his smile, as your driver opened your door. “Bye Steve.”

He waved, as you got in and continued to watch your car exit the drive.

He couldn't explain it. The inexplicable need to be near you. Wishing for another life. A once upon a time he could have had with you.

Alone in his big house, with no one to share it with, he sighed heavily making his way back to his office.

Fairy tales, he thinks. Meant for much gentler souls than he. Someone deserving of it, brave and pure of heart, just like the stories his mother used to read to him and Pip when they were still children, still room to believe in such notions as soul mates and true loves first kiss.

Eddie was waiting there, sitting behind his desk.

“Call for you.” He stated, getting up from the chair extending the phone towards him.

“Take a message, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll call them back.” He crossed the room, pouring himself a drink.

“Steve, I think you're going to want to take this.”

You hated lying but you had to get out of there.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories seemed to overtake you when you stepped through the threshold of a home that you practically grew up in.

You dreaded going back to your own home. A home that you'd hoped one day would have been filled with love that never came to fruition.

Such high hopes in the beginning with Nikolai.

He was the perfect gentleman. A whirlwind romance that had you so swept away you didn't see his true colors until it was too late.

So caught up with what he was, but it was truly only what he showed you. What he wanted you to believe.

Soon after your marriage, it was late nights at his clubs coming home smelling of liquor and sweet smelling perfume that turned into not coming home at all some nights.

You'd wanted white picket fences and children laughing down the hall. He gave you heartache and crying alone in your empty king sized bed.

Almost five years later and you're left to question if he ever loved you or if it had all been a strategy to gain his power.

Later that night you were in the study reading on the large sofa, room lit softly by the fireplace. Cozy in silk pajamas and your favorite blanket, it was the perfect end to the day as you sipped some wine.

Nik slipped in, late as usual, loosening his tie as he stomped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed.

“Well, nice to see you too, dear.” You didn't look up, only rolling your eyes. “It looks like I'm reading, no?”

“Why the hell did you go to Harrington's today?” He stepped in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I was returning Pip’s clutch. She left it at the church.” Shrugging and returning to your book as if it should be the end of it.

“You expect me to believe that?” He leaned down, arm caging you in, as he swiftly pulled the book from your hand tossing it in the empty space of the couch beside you. Closing in, almost nose to nose, as his imposing frame hovered over you.

“It's the truth, Nik. I really don't care what you choose to believe.” You spat back at him. Not at all in the mood for his little games or vile attitude.

You knew the only reason he skipped the funeral was because he had a bone to pick with Richard. Now it seems he's trying to take it up with Steve.

You pushed his chest, getting up from the couch as you started to cross the room now done with the conversation but he grabbed your arm, wrenching you back around to face him.

“Let's get one thing straight, YOU, under no circumstances, are to see him again.” His grip tightening as he spoke. He'd never laid a hand on you, but the way he was squeezing you now was surely going to leave a mark.

“Nik, let me go. You can't forbid me to stay away from my childhood friends. You're being ridiculous. Steve is not Richard. You have nothing against him.” His grip only grew tighter, shaking you just a bit as you tried to pull yourself free. “Nik! Let go of me!”

“No Y/N! I mean it. You are not to see him again!” Screaming in your face, droplets of spital flying toward you. “Do you understand me?”

You finally nodded. Worrying if you tried to push the issue further it would only make things worse.

“Say it!” He shouted.

“I understand. Now, let me go!” He did so, pushing you slightly away from him.

“Good.” He sneered, smirk now donning his face as he brushed past you on his way to pour himself a drink from the small bar in the corner of the room as you quickly grabbed your things.

You passed one of Nik’s security details, whose gaze fell away from you as you rushed out of the room, he'd overheard the entire thing. You were mortified at his behavior. Nik was a grade A asshole but he had never been physical.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your room, heaving a sigh of relief as you locked the door behind you. Glad to have some kind of barrier between the two of you tonight.

Running into the bathroom, you slid your robe from your shoulder to examine your arm. It was already starting to form finger shaped bruises.

You could easily hide them, wearing long sleeves, which you did most days. It was horrifying to think you had no choice but to hide them. HE had done this to you.

You washed your face and slid into bed, crying softly to yourself as your mind began spiraling. This was a life you had never wanted.

A husband that never looks at you, unless it's with disdain and contempt. Now seemingly hell bent on keeping you in line the way he sees fit. When words don't work, he'll easily use brute force to bend you to his will.

Telling Steve would be completely out of the question for both of your sakes, but in the coming days you would soon find out how difficult it would be to avoid him completely.

[fandomzwriterk]

Stars in Your Eyes

Pair: Gambit/Remy Lebeau x Fem!Trailblazer!Vidyadhara!Reader

Warnings: canon lore of how “Trailblazer” works + the lore of Vidyadhara’s + canon character death + Semi-Amnesiac!Reader + yes Reader can shift paths and elements + slight Genshin inspiration too + love triangle (?) + Canon episodes of X-Men ‘97 + Rouge and Jean fight over Trailblazer’s life choices

Pt: 3/?

(Don’t worry the gif has nothing to do with the chapter😁 I just need one of Remy being hot as fuck😋)

This chapter is brought to you by the song “Killer Queen” by, you guessed it, Queen!

The dream made you wake up, your body slowly coming back to reality as your eyes blinked over and over, trying to un-blur what you had seen. It was morning already, how much sleep had you gotten?

“I will never understand what that is.”

You’ve had this dream before, you’ve remembered those details though you wish you could forget. It was like you lived it a thousand times over, and you knew there would be no running from them, no matter how hard you tried.

“Ello there Blaze! Time to wake up! Everyone wants to meet you.” You heard the muffled voice of Jubilee say

You got up, walking to the bathroom to see yourself. The light bags under your eyes showed how tired you were and how much sleep you hadn’t gotten. Wait, when was the last time you slept? So, you begrudgingly went to the door and opened it, seeing Jubilee turn to face you, looking you up and down.

“Gee Blaze you okay? You like you haven’t slept at all.”

“I’m alright Jubilee. I just need something to eat.”

“Oh good! You’re gonna like Gambit’s cooking then!”

Gambit cooks? Well somebody has to in this house and between him and all the other X-Men… he looked like he was the only one who had any sort of cooking skills. Logan might as well have eaten an animal he hunted, Beast looks like he doesn’t eat all that much, and even Cyclops looked like he relied on Gambit to keep everyone fed.

“Hey everyone! Good morning!” Jubilee shouted as she walked into what looked like a living room

Everyone sat at a table, Scott and the woman named Jean sitting at the counter as you saw Gambit wearing a crop top and had his tied back, cooking something over what you believed like a stove.

“Hello there Blaze it’s nice to met ya.” A woman with dark hair and a couple strands of white hair said

“Oh um… hello.”

“Shy thing ain’t ya? Don’t worry sugar I don’t bite. A friend of the X-Men is a friend of mine.”

You nodded at the woman, using your one hand to grab the bicep of your other arm, showing a sign of confusion and worry while the woman guided you to a spot at the table.

“Anyways I’m Rogue.” She said as she put a hand on your shoulder

“N-nice to meet you Rogue. It’s nice to meet you all, on better terms.”

The man called Logan sighed, stabbing into the food that sat on his plate. An unfamiliar woman with white hair sat across from you, letting Rogue sit next to her.

“My name is Storm. It’s a pleasure to have you here at the manor Blaze.”

You nodded, waiting for something to happen.

“Bon Appetite!” You heard Gambit say next to you

He places a plate of some sort of bread-like food in front of you, the top covered in some sort of white fluffy powder. You tilted your head in confusion as you grabbed a fork to gently poke it. What was this thing? It sure looked good though.

“It’s just a beignet mon âme. It’s not gon’ jump at you.”

He’s standing right behind your chair, a hand gently patting your head as you stabbed into one with the fork. Brining it to your mouth, you saw the fluffy powder fall off a little. Once you tasted it, it felt like a sweet heavenly piece of bread. You had to have more, so you dove in to eat every single one… and there was 10 while everyone else had about two or three on their plates.

“Goodness gracious you sure are hungry ain’t ya?” Morph asked

You could only nod, the food filling your belly slowly like you hadn’t ate in years. You could feel every eye on you, seeing a tiny smile on Gambit’s face out of the corner of your eye.

“I guess somebody likes your cooking Remy.” Rogue replied

“Hey, ca c'est bon.”

Gulping down a full one, you looked around the room, every pair of eyes on you like you were someone foreign that they needed to study.

“What? Is something wrong with my face?”

Morph, Rogue, Jubilee, and Cyclops started laughing.

“We’re glad to have you Blaze.” Jean added as she walked up and put a hand on your shoulder

You turned to look behind you, catching the glance of Jean’s blueish eyes staring at you. One second you were in the kitchen… and now you sat at an empty table somewhere on the Express. About five feet away stood a different red haired woman, in a long dress that went down to the ground. Her eyes… you felt like you recognized those eyes.

“I know you…”

And you were back in a second, putting a hand to your head to stop the spinning that you could feel inside your body. Immediately, Scott and Jean held you up from slumping onto the table.

“Blaze? Blaze!” You heard Scott say as your eyes closed a little

“Blaze wake up. Come on I know you’re in there.” Jeans voice spoke inside your head

You opened your eyes, slowly sitting straight as you shook your head and felt the feeling of spinning go away. You blinked a few times, back in the kitchen with your plate still in front of you.

“You okay?” Jean asked

“Yeah… just peachy. Augh that hurt more than last nights.”

Your eyes opened wide, rendering yourself fully awake. You hadn’t realized you said that out loud after a few seconds until Rogue gave you a puzzling glance.

“I mean I’m fine. Just a bad dream. That’s all it is.” You added

“Are you sure?” Scott asked

“Mhm. I need a second outside.” You answered

You stood up, a hand still at the side of your head as you took a few steps outside the door, feeling the sun on your face as you let go of your head and letting your arm fall, closing your eyes as you stood in the sun and felt the light breeze around you. It was quiet, the silence calming you as you started to feel a little better.

“You okay there Blaze?” You heard Rogue’s voice say next to you

“Yeah… I think so. Just a bad dream I had last night.”

There was silence between you two, deciding to sit down on the grass where the two of you could oversee the woods from yesterday.

“I know what it’s like to hurt yourself… with your own powers. Mine relies on touch… so I can’t touch anyone unless I have the gloves on.”

“I just want to remember what I was before I came here. Where are my friends? Do I have a family?”

You looked up, your vision aimed at the sun. Your eyes became clearer, seeing and feeling the sun on your face as the feeling of warmth slowly came back to you. The sun felt… safe.

“I wish I could help you Blaze. It’s a shame, I know. If I was you, I’d do anythin I could to get home as well. Granted, I’m sure you will one day soon. Maybe for now you need to focus on yourself and slowly take time to get familiar with yourself.”

You could only nod at Rogues words, feeling the weight of your situation setting in. You were stuck… stuck in a place you had no idea about.

“I’ll let everyone know you’re-“

“No no. I’m okay. I just needed some air.” You said standing

Rogue stood up as well, following behind you as you walked back inside. Gambit, or Remy as you’ve learned so far, leaned up from his spot against the wall.

“I got it from ‘ere Rouge. Good ole Cyclops said maybe we should do a training exercise in the Training Room.”

“Is that wise? She just got here and it’s barely even been 24 hours. How sure are you that she’ll even live through one drill.”

“I have faith in ‘er. She can do this. Even Cyclops and Jean agree.”

Rogue sighed, turning to look at you as she stood by your side. She then looked to Gambit, walking past him as you felt more eyes stare at you. You turned your head, staring into Gambit’s crimson-black eyes, his eyes seeming to stare into yours, a sign he was looking for something in them, anything.

“Come on cher. Let’s get you there.”

Most of the walk consisted of you walking behind Gambit, staring at the walls and ceiling around you.

“Ain’t much to look at eh?”

“Hm?”

“There’s not much to look at inside this mansion, unless you’re big blue furry man down the hall. Ain’t much here.”

You followed Gambit down some stairs, walking into a steel hallway with different doors around you both. He walked up to one, putting in some sort of code in what looked like a lock pad. Huh… that felt familiar to you.

“Oh come on Fille there ain’t anyone here.”

You looked at him up and down, trying to understand what he just said to you. His words didn’t sound normal every now and then. Gambit just grabbed your hand and pulled you in with him, your eyes quickly spotting Logan, Scott, Jean, Jubilee, and Storm.

“Good to see you’re alright Blaze. Do you know what this room is for?” Scott asked

You shook your head no. You felt anxious, your hands feeling shaky in this large metal room with only one way out, the way you came in.

“This is how we train. Don’t worry, Jean and I have something easy planned for you.”

“Alright! Come on Blaze over here!” Jubilee shouted as a fully destroyed city was built in seconds

You run, sprinting as fast as you can just before diving behind Jubilee and a mini wall, both of you sitting there.

“Alright Blaze it’s yo time to shine!” Gambit shouted

Jubilee pushed you, making you roll into an open area where a giant mechanical robot stood tall above you.

“Oh crap!” You shouted as it fired beams from its eyes, making you run around while your teammates hid

“This isn’t helping!” You shouted as you jumped on top of a train on its side, slightly broken as if it had seen war

“Storm!” Scott shouted, stretching out her name as a sort of warning

“Blaze! I can’t see you!” Jean shouted as you ran through the fire and smoke slowly clouding your vision

You ran, jumping over flaming objects and dodging the beams being shot at you. Why did it seem like you were getting targeted?

“Why are you running? You are stronger than it, so fight back.”

Your brain clicked off for a second, feeling your body turn as you closed your eyes, feeling your legs sprint for their life. As you opened your eyes, you noticed you were running up the robots long arms, about to cross the threshold of its made-up elbow. Ferocity filed your veins, a burning desire to fight back and destroy anything in your path was what drove you now. You jumped high into the air, feeling lighter than the air itself. Your veins burned as your fingers grew talon-like nails, the spark of a flame burning around your first as you struck the robot where its heart would’ve been. It wasn’t just the will to fight back… it was the desire to kill and destroy.

“Rise hidden-sun… world condemning dragon!”

An echo was heard around you, booming off the robot itself and the half destroyed buildings as well. Wind kicked up around you, feeling every single ember, grain of dirt, and metal part hit you like how a meteor strikes a planet. Your strength felt amplified by a thousand percent, the single strike you made tearing apart the robot and reducing it to pieces on the ground. You barely had time to register what had happened as your body felt weak, falling to the ground from the air, landing into something much like steel. The strength was gone in a matter of seconds after the hit, now you were reduced limp trapped under tons of metal and cement.

Meanwhile…

Gambit pov

“Shit! Jean! You and I will go restart the program! Jubilee get out of here in case it gets worse! Logan, you and Gambit look for her! Storm see if you can calm the fire in any way!”

Scott took off, Jean flying right over him and through the metal door and off to the side of the frame, Jubilee going through in a rush to look for someone to get Blaze out while good ole Wolverine helped me scale the destruction.

“Crap. I can’t smell anything except ash and burning steel.”

“Come on Logan we can’t give up now. She needs help, and that’s what we X-Men do.”

Logan only sighed at my response, quickly scaling up the overturned buses as I went diving through windows to find her. The smell of ash and melted rubble filled my nose. Wherever she was, Blaze had destroyed every single thing around her. Heck I didn’t even get to see what she did. All I saw was the flame rise, the Sentinel burning from top to bottom as Blaze came falling from midair.

“Blaze!” I shouted through the rubble

Nothing. I hated that silence. Surely she couldn’t die that easy right? She survived a damn fire once before so surely she could do it again.

“Come on, come on Blaze where are ya?”

Through the smoke, I saw the crumpled form of a young woman, long grey hair covered in ash and slightly burned at the ends. Her form was motionless, trapped underneath iron pillars about a hundred times bigger than her. I couldn’t even see her breathing…

“Blaze!” I yelled as I ran up and over pillars and broken down walls

She was silent as I stopped by her side, pushing two fingers against her neck right below the jawline, feeling a faint pulse.

“Don’t you dare fucking die on me now Blaze!”

I quickly tried to pull her out from under the rubble, to no avail. I had two options, go find help and hope I found her in time or I wait this out and try to get her out myself.

“Fuck it. I have to-“

Blaze started to stand up, pushing off the rubble like it was mere paper, stopping as she used her hands to prevent herself from falling forward while she was on her hands and knees. She shook her head, long silver hair flowing as she came back from being unconscious.

“Gambit? That you?” She asked as she pushed off the rubble easily

“Yeah. It’s me. Scared me there for a second Blaze.”

“Oh. Did the thing go away?”

“It’s done. Let’s get ya out of ‘ere.”

She walked slowly up to, slowly climbing behind me as we scaled a large overturned bus. I could hear her behind me, faintly, but managing to keep up with my pace.

“Gambit! Blaze!” I heard ahead of me

Logan came rushing, Cyclops and Beast right behind him. It took a couple of seconds, but Logan was right next to Blaze and be a crutch for her. I could see the faint color in her eyes, but she was still hanging on.

“Sweet god how did she survive that?” Logan asked

“Don’t know. Was that a fluke Scott?” Jean asked

“No! I made it so it would stand still and just move a little!”

“Well CLEARLY it decided to otherwise.” I answered

“Enough. We have to get her to the lab.” Beast spoke up

We all walked down the hall, Scott walking behind us all as he closed the massive door to the room. He looked around in hesitation, something the great leader of the X-Men never does.

Some time later…

You sit at the table, holding some ice against your skull. Whatever you did, it hurt like all hell. Heaven forbid you even do it again, maybe that’ll hurt more than this one.

“Gee that looks awful. Do you need anything Blaze? I’ll get you whatever you need.”

Rouge’s kindness could be felt somewhere inside your heart. Although… did you have a heart? You felt lost, abandoned, forgotten, hell maybe even empty. It felt like something was missing from you… but you couldn’t remember what or why. Is this why couldn’t you feel anything from anyone else?

“Oh I’m okay Rogue. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll be okay in a little while.”

“Oh hey Rogue how’s the rookie?” You heard behind you as you turned in your seat

“Easy Remy. She’s had a rough couple of days. Scott doesn’t wanna strain her body and mind.”

“Gambit wasn’t gonna do that to the poor girl. Was just wonderin’ how she was feeling.”

Rogue sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the table by your side as you both stared at Gambit.

“It’s da’ truth!”

Rogue took a few steps, pushing Remy out of your way as she ushered you forward go to bed and rest. Reluctantly, you decided to go up to bed. Would you even fall asleep tonight? Would those nightmares leave you alone at all?

“Maybe it can’t be helped…”

To be continued…

A/N: sorry this took so long I’m just starting the third week of college on Monday plus I’ve been going out to do things with my bf every now and then too. Hope you enjoyed!

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: How Can Nature Heal You? 🍃💎🐾

Hi everyone, I'm officially back from my long and crazy trip to the outdoors! If there's one thing I've learned from the trip, it's that yellowjacket stings are 10x itchier than mosquito bites!

And learned how to stay grounded.

Since the start of October, things have felt like a whirlwind, but knowing that I (eventually) get to come back and post some more feels strangely grounding. Right now, especially as winter approaches, it's important to find ways of keeping ourselves grounded. I don't know the exact astrology, or if it's just from eclipse season, but things feel topsy-turvy at this point in time.

So to make up for some lost time, I have decided to prepare three different PACs for you as we approach the full eclipse moon and end of the month. Here is my first of the three. I'll have something very different prepared for next week as well… perhaps a game or two? Stay tuned!

☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦

Try to find some moments out in nature, Autumn is calling. Take some time to head outside, even for just a few minutes, and find a natural focal point. When I went into the city to work, I'd find a rare bird who'd perch by a parking lot light just to say hello. Even rain puddles in asphalt may have something to say. Feel which way the wind is blowing. It's much easier to ground with natural focal points, and with camping they're everywhere, but surprises await you anywhere you are.

Nature can heal us all in different ways. While camping by the pond, I decided to create three piles to see how nature is able to help you when times get stressful. I consulted the sea, earth, and sky for these cards to find out new ways for you to refresh and recharge while outside. Please choose any one of the three pictures below for your reading: Origins, Reconnect, or Friends.

Pile 1:

Origins: Remember Your Roots; 46. Facing Your Fears, Service, Page of Swords, Tower, Nine of Cups

Nature heals you with its pleasing aromas. In the autumn breeze, the smell of fallen leaves can lift you away from the chaos surrounding you. Smell the crackling bonfire and listen to its ancient stories that have been carried through time. Let the old stories sustain you when the world feels like it's shaking.

The scents of nature have an immediate effect on you. Smell the hot cider from fresh tart apples, or the memories from the scarf your relative or ancestor left behind. Smell the dark October rain and the many chilly nights preceding the storm. Where does it take you? Do you let your lungs fill with the world's organic potpourri? Do you allow yourself the space to roam through the woods to find what you've never experienced before? Or give yourself the chance to reset your body through mindful breath as your worrisome thoughts are replaced with cool, misty serenity?

Take some time to name each thing you smell, perhaps in your journal. The more we are able to name what we smell or taste, the more we can establish a relationship with it, whether through hate or through love, brine or breeze. Welcome more fresh air into your life at this time. Breathe deeply in the smells of the changing seasons and infuse your affirmations with them, knowing that your intention will be carried away with the turbulent winds.

The lionfish is dangerous to many ecosystems through its invasiveness. Yet people have learned how to prepare lionfish as a meal. So now there are holidays dedicated to hunting these fish to reduce their effect on coral reefs. It says to you: "Look for ways to strengthen your connection to the Universe and others. Stay peaceful and calm in the knowing of who you are."

A necessity brought a community together for an important goal. You too have a place where your actions and desires are aligned with the universe; don't discount your capabilities just because things look too tough to tackle. When situations in your life seem out of control and overwhelming, take a step outside and connect to the smells of the woods, or an essential oil blend to safely diffuse in your room. I'm picking up on clove and cinnamon in particular but whatever blend works right for you.

Pile 2:

Reconnect: Secrets lurk in the captive shadows deep in the woods; 24. Love Where You Are, Bliss, Seven of Pentacles, Five of Swords, Six of Swords

Nature heals you with its deep underground connections. It lies dormant within layer upon layer of mineral, silicate, and pulsing soil. You can dig and dig for days because you've seen the glittering amethyst geode hiding beneath the surface of volcanic debris. You're adorned with the roots of a single glowing mushroom that splits in a thousand directions at the strike of lightning.

It seems as though there is no end to the digging, even when a dead end scrapes against your shovel. It may also feel like each direction you take on is limitless, stretching the roots as far as they can go. The desire to know and resolve tugs and pulls like a sprout emerging from seed. You're here to learn the mysteries of life, carve the revelation upon stone, and somehow hold them firmly in your hands. A pumpkin may not hold all the answers to our lives, it can make for a enjoyable pie with ice cream. And sometimes simple and pleasant things like that are all that's necessary in the time you have.

The earth calls you when you are in a fuss, when you can't see eye to eye with another. When things get tense, go for a walk. Imagine your roots traveling beneath the earth as a fish rides the deep currents. Remember there is always more going on outside the troubles of the everyday. All it may take is a morning in the garden, sifting through the dirt, and planting delicate seeds to clear your mind enough to make the next moves in your day.

Clams love the earth as well. They find a comfortable place on the ocean floor, slowly filtering sand and grit into incredible works of beauty. Each pearl forged is the result of a lifetime's worth of sustained effort. It says: "Use your sensitivity to know when to act. Connect your heart with your head when determining what you would like."

Sometimes, we can solve our problems by nagging over the details, but in other times, we must sit it out and let things unfold as they intend to. Sometimes it's best to settle matters rationally, but in other times emotional wisdom is required. Stay in touch with your roots in the present and move one muddy step after the other. Whatever the issue unfolding, let the earth heal you in the now.

Pile 3:

Friends: The most unlikely friendships can form; 16. Inner Desires, Family, Fool, Five of Wands, Tower

Nature heals you with its menagerie of connections with the feral world. A day where you learn about a new species is a jackpot; you bask in abundance through admiring the vast animal kingdom. There is magic to be found in the growth and decay of a beast. Joy emerges from its shells, which grows into a love that spreads its wings and flies west into eternal peace and infinite renewal.

In each paw print, you can see evolutionary fragments of your own. Hearing the birds call in liquid notes, you venture into the thicket in hopes of encountering a part of yourself once forgotten. Is it easier to relate to animal kind than it is to people? Even when their display is for tricks or camouflage, they will not misjudge or criticize against you for who you are. At the same time, each animal desires its own space in the wild in which it can't be disturbed. It can be difficult to leave behind a difficult situation at home to find anyone who will relate with you deep within the shadowy woods. But you are being called by the chipmunks and squirrels to carry your acorns to the next level, beyond the stress, and give yourself the chance to plant them in a more nurturing, caring land to thrive.

You are being asked to, as the birds and cattle do, migrate into a whole new feeding ground. You may be a fish that has grown too big for the pond and now must plunge into the waterfall, a snake ready to shed coiled skin, or a butterfly emerging from its cocoon into new heights. Are you in a transitional phase, like a job or school change, perhaps even a move? Wherever you end up in next, the resources and guidance you need will await you at the bottom of the pool. The place your heart seeks to go the most is where you'll find your unique calling for your next adventure.

This mollusc seems humble up front but carries a powerful and influential role; they are the creators of the cowrie shell. It has been seen to represent abundance, love, and connection to the ocean's splendors through the shells they leave behind. Many people around the world have used these shells as currency. It says: "Set your intentions. You are entering a phase of plenty or have a sudden windfall. Goals are within your grasp."

Transitions can always feel unsteady, but you have many helpful animal guides by your side. Even your pet can sense that change is in the air and wants to be there for you during moments of doubt and strife. And look out for the occasional ladybug, hare, or black cat as you map out your goals to prosperity and healthy social networks. The animal world trusts you to make the right decisions with its welfare in mind.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[haydenn]

Crowley had been dreaming of Aziraphale for 6,000 years. Ever since the first time he closed his eyes and succumbed to this human habit, Aziraphale had been in his dreams. At first he dreamed of the angel’s smile, of the way he’d fretted over giving away his flaming sword, and of the way he had looked at Crowley from under his wing, hair damp from the first rain and eyes shining with… not love, not yet, but certainly intrigue and interest.

Later dreams had been more wish fulfillment than echos of reality. After they had oysters in Rome, Crowley had dreamed of tasting the salt and brine again from his angel’s tongue. After the first time he’d taken Aziraphale to a Shakespeare play, Crowley had dreamed of whispering sweet nothings against his angel’s skin until Aziraphale gasped and sighed for his words as he’d done for the Bard’s. When they’d finished their crepes in Paris, Crowley had revisited the Bastille in his dreams and imagined an alternate version of events. One where Aziraphale had remained in his chains and Crowley pealed those pretty, ridiculous clothes off of him piece by piece until they were pressed against the wall, trembling and holding each other through the aftershocks. When he’d finally returned home after their candlelight dinner in 1941, he’d dreamed of telling Aziraphale all the feelings he’d held back for millennia, which he now suspected were reciprocated.

Of course, not all his dreams had been fantasies; there had been nightmares too. When they fought in 537 and 1862, those fights had haunted his dreams. He tried to rewrite them, to come up with cleverer arguments or more compelling reasons for Aziraphale to stay, but every time they had ended with Aziraphale storming off and leaving him alone exactly as he’d done in real life. His dreams had been plagued by the words “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” for a decade after Aziraphale said them in 1967. But the true nightmares had started when the world began to end. In the wake of delivering Adam to the nuns, Crowley had dreamed of every worst-case scenario, of Heaven winning, of Hell winning, of the whole universe being vaporized into nothingness. In every one of those nightmares, he and Aziraphale were irrevocably separated and the thought of losing him forever was enough to wake him.

After the bookshop fire, Crowley had dreamed of smoke and flames and a sense of loss so profound it was as if half his soul had been ripped from him. He dreamed of searching for ages and never finding what he was looking for, never truly knowing what he was looking for because he had forgotten the half of himself lost in the flames. Nothing could startle him awake from those dreams. He had to ride them out until he woke naturally, his nose full of phantom smoke and a gaping hole in his chest where Aziraphale used to be.

He thought the fire dreams were the worst of them. After all, what could be worse than dreaming of being trapped in a world with no Aziraphale, doomed to an eternity of futile searching for an angel he couldn’t remember, but knew he’d lost? But now, as his naked feet slapped against the cold floors of the shop, he knew those dreams had been nothing compared to the one he’d just had. After the fire dreams, he could at least wake up, drive to the bookshop, and reassure himself of Aziraphale’s continued existence. But now? Now he was sprinting through the dusty stacks of the shop, as he had done through the corridors of Hell in his mind, screaming for Aziraphale and coming up empty.

The shop was empty.

Aziraphale was gone.

———————————

May You Be Forgiven (pt 2) was updated…. 2 weeks ago. There won’t be an update today because my grades are due. But, if you haven’t seen the last chapter, here it is.

And here’s a link to part one if you’re brand new.

[gtgbabie0]

✧Apple of my eye✧

{you stress bake an apple pie when Tommy is late returning home that’s it that’s all}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Just please be careful Tommy, please” you sigh wrapping a scarf around his neck, it had gotten much colder recently which often meant more ice which came with a multitude of different dangers.

His hands settle against your hips bringing you closer to him, you could feel the warmth radiating from him and you sigh into the feeling, “I’ll be fine baby, promise— I mean always am aren’t I” he presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead.

“That ain’t gonna suffice Miller” you tut as he laughs at you his hands cupping your cheeks before stealing your lips into a loving kiss, he doesn’t want to leave you, doesn’t want to leave the warmth that you bring.

“Honey I gotta go—“ you don’t let him finish his sentence as you pull him down for another kiss, “Alright Honey I really gotta” he chuckles as you open the door for him, the brittle temperature barges its way into the warmth of your home.

That was twelve hours ago, the sun was now setting casting an orange light over the kitchen as you roll out the dough, an unsettling feeling of stress settles into your bones and your brows knit together, you thought baking just might take your mind off of your husband out in a snow storm patrolling the woodlands and how late he was returning home.

You let out a frustrated sigh as scooped the sweet apple filling into the dough-lined pie dish, glancing over at the clock that read ten o’clock the sun had completely gone down now and panic started to rise to leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you put the apple pie in the oven.

A confusing mixture of anger and worry barges through your body leaving an odd weight on your chest and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to cry or storm up those mountains and drag your husband back home.

You jump slightly as the kitchen timer dings, you take out the apple pie smiling at the homely smell of the sweet treat, “Ooh sumthin smells good honey” Tommy says as takes his snow-covered coat off, his smile falters slightly when he doesn’t get a response.

You turn around facing your stupidly beautiful husband as he smiles at you from the door frame, it’s a sheepish smile and he knows exactly what’s wrong with you as you throw the kitchen towel at him before running over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck brining him into a hug, relief washing over you as he holds you closer into his body his cold nose nuzzling against your neck.

“You're not having any” you mumble holding him tighter and you feel him laugh, “You really scared the fuck outta me Tommy” he pulls away slightly his cold hand cupping your face as he brings your lips into a loving kiss and you can’t help but melt into the tender feeling.

“I’m real sorry sweetheart… it’s a fuckin blizzard out there— I love you” he murmurs the last part against your lips before pressing a soft kiss to them and you can’t help the fluttering feeling that swarms through your chest, his hands settle on your hips and you watch as he glances over your shoulder to the apple pie that sits on the kitchen counter.

“You can have some—” you smile at him your hands threading through his dark hair that’s slightly damp from being outside in the midst of a snow storm, “—on one condition” you add admiring the beauty marks that adorn his skin.

“Mm, what’s that?” He smirks pulling you impossibly closer to his body, stealing your warmth as his hands slip under your jumper, they’re cold against your warm skin and the feeling sends a shiver through you as he draws small circles against your back.

“You take me out once the storms passed… I wanna see the stars” you smile basking in the small loving moment.

His face softens with love as he looks at you with adoration, “Of course, I will sweetheart- I'll do anything ya want” he presses a kiss to your forehead before you pull away to cut him a generous slice of apple pie.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

☾⋆AN/ I want this man so bad. Hope you enjoyed lovelies!! <3 {{requests are more than welcome}} any mistakes let me know!

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents: Someone is Calling Him Shorewards - Chapter Seven

Written by harlotofupdog on Reddit!

Storm Jizz Chapter 7, this time with extra jizz and a little bit of storm.

For any curious prospective readers, this is a ghost story with a hefty serving of storms, jizz, angst and occasional puns. This chapter isn't a standalone read, but also, if you're brave enough, you do you! We're nearing the finish line now. Not long to go.

Rating: E

CW/TW: No drowning in this one (oh good!) but a bit of an emotional rollercoaster nonetheless. Usual tags and warnings apply.

Everlasting thanks to wonderful u/Paperclip_Ninja for being a talented, stalwart, courageous defeater of late nights, unfinished sentences, and overused words. <3

Apologies: You know the drill. I'm sorry and I didn't mean for any of this to happen. It'll be okay.

Excerpt:

Angel’s story doesn’t flow. It jumps around in confusing starts and bursts, like a patchy summer squall that sends down blinding sheets of rain one moment and peters out into misty drizzle the next. Sometimes his sentences taper off, or stop abruptly, as if he is selecting and revising lines in his tale as he tells it. His voice, as well, is jarring. Prim and emotionless, as if he is reciting incomplete entries from an old logbook.

Crowley clutches the bottle of bad, cheap sherry—he spied it perched atop one of the bookshelves and took it without asking—like it is a lifebuoy as the other man talks. Occasionally he swigs from it, but the dry, sickly taste barely makes inroads on the salt and brine that sticks to his tongue and coats the inside of his cheeks. He hates sherry. It reminds him of old women and sitting rooms filled with chintz and china cats. Though he’d rather stare down a shelf full of creepy porcelain than look at the man next to him. Now and then he can feel Angel’s eyes seeking his, willing him to turn and meet his gaze. But Crowley knows that he won’t be able to bear the unnerving scrutiny that he’ll find there.

Continue reading on AO3

[ryuzakemo128]

Crimson Blood

Pairing: Aelora Targaryen x Aegon II Targaryen

Genre: Angst

Rating: MA15+

Content Warning: Major Character death, mention of parent death, possible mention of pity sex. Pre-established relationship between Aegon and Aelora.

Summary: Aelora chases after her mother after her mother leaps into the ocean.

Eyes of deep crimson and long white eyelashes. Porcelain skin complexion like the sun never touched her. Long wavy silver white hair reaching down to her waist, the undertones of blue and purple in her hair shimmered like moonlight caught on a seashell. She had a sharp chin and a pointed nose. Her lips were full and red, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Aelora resigned herself that someone would not love her. She stopped trying to court someone. She stopped trying to get something she felt no one would give her. Mourning someone that would never come back. She would pull out an armchair, fill a bathtub and sleep in the armchair waiting.

The ocean almost claimed her. Like it did to her mother. Aelora ran after her mother, it was the fastest she had ever run after someone. "Wait for me" she repeated. No shoes on her feet, she had not bothered to put them on before running after her. She jumped in after her.

"Aelora!" screamed a man that saw her jump in to get her mother back. Aegon knew she only had her mother, and now even she is gone.

[Aegon's point of view]

I would not let her leave me like this, not when I had just found her. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched her slip away into the tempestuous sea. "Aelora, come back!" I roared, my voice barely carrying over the wailing winds and the frenetic symphony of the storm. The waves crashed around her, eager to claim her as their own, but she was a Targaryen. A daughter of the dragon, born of the same fiery blood that coursed through my veins.

My legs felt like lead as I charged into the water, the icy embrace of the sea stealing my breath and strength. Each step grew heavier, the weight of the water pulling me down, but I would not be deterred. The waves tried to swallow me whole, but I fought back, driven by a love and fear that surpassed any pain the sea could inflict. The saltwater stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I could still see her, a silver ghost fading into the abyss.

"Aelora!" I screamed her name again, reaching out, my hand just brushing the fabric of her gown. For a moment, our fingers entwined, and hope burned in my chest like the fire of our ancestors' dragons. But the sea was cruel, and the current ripped her from my grasp. I dove under the surface, the cold water enveloping me, searching the murky depths for any sign of her. The world grew quieter, the only sounds the muffled cries of the storm above and the desperate beating of my own heart.

Desperation choked me, the taste of salt heavy on my tongue. My lungs burned, screaming for air, but I held on, refusing to let the ocean win. Visions of my father, frail and beautiful on his deathbed, flickered at the edges of my sight. Aelora couldn't follow him. Not yet. With a final, herculean effort, I kicked my way back to the surface, gasping for a breath that ripped through my raw throat.

The taste of brine choked me, and the world spun like a drunken sailor. Coughing up seawater, I squinted through blurry eyes, scanning the churning waves for any sign of Aelora. Panic threatened to consume me, but the ghost of a memory, Aelora's determined chin jutted out in defiance of a particularly nasty storm, spurred me on.

Relief.

Pure relief.

Relief flooded through me once I had her in my arms. I forced myself to ignore the sting of the salty water, focusing only on the warmth radiating from her small, shivering body. She clung to me like a limpet, her silver hair plastered to her face.

Thanks to the Seven.

She was alive.

The sex afterwards? I swear my mother would have called it pity sex. I didn't think it was. I didn't want to think of it as that. Aelora would not want to think of it as that. But we both knew what it was. We had lost so much that night. Lost ourselves to the sea, lost our hope of escape, lost our innocence in the fiery embrace of our love for each other. It was raw, desperate, and painfully beautiful. We clung to each other as if the very act of being joined could keep us afloat amidst the wreckage of our lives. The saltwater washed over us, mixing with our tears and sweat, as we sought solace in the one place we had left to find it.

Once we were back home. I carried her to our chambers, the warmth of the castle surrounding us like a mother's embrace. I laid her on our bed, her skin still cold and pale from the ordeal. Not only that, but I knew she needed rest, but I couldn't bring myself to let her go. I wrapped her in blankets, the soft fabric a stark contrast to the roughness of the night we had endured. Her eyes searched mine, filled with a silent plea for comfort. I kissed her forehead, feeling the tremble of her breath against my lips. "I'll never let you go," I murmured, hoping the words could warm her as much as my arms.

She did not move away from me. It was nice, for once, not to feel alone in this castle that was never truly our home. We lay there, her shivering subsiding as the warmth of the bed seeped into her bones. The candles flickered on the nightstand, casting dancing shadows across the walls, whispering of secrets and whispers we had long ago forgotten.

She didn't outright promise to never jump into the sea again. But the question of a future child felt like a silent pact between us. A promise that we would fight for a life beyond the storms that crashed against the castle walls. We held onto each other, our hearts beating in a rhythm that was ours alone, as the candles slowly burned down to stubs.

"I hope she has your eyes." I told her.

"Are you sure? I have very poor vision." Aelor smirked. Her crimson red eyes searched my own, looking for a sign of jest, but finding only earnestness.

"They're the colour of dragonfire," I said, brushing a lock of her silver hair from her face. "I'd be proud to see them in our son's face, reminding him of his fiery mother."

"It would be nice." Aelor agreed with a smile.

[fivecenturiesverse]

full discography for the “your love is standing next to me” series

Small Town Satan, (IP, Single, 1991)

“gotta run from myself // if I wanna outrun Matthew Hopkins // got blood on my hands // but I swear it’s from holding my own guts in”

Car Trunk’s Bloody, (NBB, Single, 1992)

“we got out // but I’m still wringing out bloody clothes // got weapons crusted black // in the trunk of my car”

Grand Canyon Through Town, (NBB, Single, 1993)

“she’s looking down the canyon // where daylily and larkspur grow // columbine and yarrow // wondering how Arizona came east”

“and when the gorge opens up // and swallows us down, down, darling // and our footprints, erased from the school bleachers // and the parking lots cave in like sink holes // just take my hand and we can fly // when the gorge opens up”

Iron Briars, (NBB, Album, 1994)

Iron Briars

“candle wax pools // still spool of fire gold // through iron the tennis // goes one way // then the next // one moment home // the next some place else // candle wax pools // but who lit the candle?”

Summer at Skull Rock

 “war council by the great rock // had a few girls up here // when the weather was nicer // now summer sits storm heavy // and the flies hum in the shade // and the stink of loam rises // don’t think me and girls’ll be back again”

Eyeless House

“party town // pool fill up with blue sound // and spirits // (take a sip) of her soul or his // (take a sip) of whatever they offer round”

Tennis At The Country Club

 “eighties lovers say: // just back from Greece, // European holiday // to Rome or Nice // country club girls // in tennis skirts // and mommy’s pearls // so the ball boy flirts. // you’re by the fence: // all American dirt // an’ no money sense // ball boy says // “twenty love” // but I think you’re // another kinda love”

Supine

“laying where the Dali clock drips // in the bed of pine needles // and the nest of second hands // time runs grey // not ichor bright // slow like a camel // and the eye of a needle // aureate sand in the hourglass // unblinking or maybe sleeping”

Racket

Flashy Car

Empty Master Bedroom

Tunnels

Whistles Moonlight

The Strangest Shade, (IP, Album, 1994)

The Strangest Shade

“jade’s a shade too bright and she // wades out beside me into the Styx // black dye bleeding from her little midnight dress // slack goes her mouth // and it isn’t dye but blood // hand to her stomach // I let Jade die // in the jade black waters // of Hades’ Styx”

Ghosts in Newspaper Print

 “there’s a ghost sitting // on the wall where the clock should // she raises a finger to her lips // and it’s stained last years date // in newspaper ink // I want to go back, weather permitting”

Big City Satan

Glass Shards

Galactica Girl

Adeline

“she tastes like brine // my sweet Adeline // never seen a girl so fine // it’s like deep sea diving when our lips align // my girl so vulpine // and I cannot divine // why she wants to entwine // with me as her Valentine // the sweetest Adeline // how does outshine // even the coastline // rhyming goldmine”

Bo Peep

“we held tight the lambs // him and I // (him and I) // and stamped them // with our paint mark // so we might find them // when the world got dark”

“now they carry age // and heavy pelts of wool // still carrying our mark // in the eyes and the soul // and tells the world we were here // before they could stake a claim”

Corroded Coffin

Viscera

Ash Weekdays Ending in Y (For Preachers), (BTBB, Album, 1995)

Un-Nuclear Families

“miracles align when it’s you and I // facing down monsters as > mom and dad”

“don’t take my hand if it doesn’t feel right // God I hope > it feels right // feel like both my hands are left // and my feet forget to dance // and our kids are watching // ours since God made our shoulders wide // to hide them and build like Noah // a home from the kraken’s ribcage”

Winter Birds Love Ladies Too

 “a little birdie tells me // to take one of seven deadly sins // like an old lady’s purse toffee // and stick my teeth together”

Ash Weekdays

 “doesn’t hurt to try // if the day ends in ‘y’ // doesn’t hurt to try // till it does”

In My Palms

“however the time passes // like palm ashes through my fingers // the indent of your teeth // against the bone of my knuckle // feels like yesterday and today // and it will be tomorrow”

Was My Girl

She Is

Found Deep

For Preachers

Days Ending In

There’s Nothing Under the Bed, (NBB, Album, 1997)

Lost in Fairy Land

 “lately when the house grows cold // I feel memories thought lost // creeping out of the dark // with white spider’s legs // they grow and grow // inch closer and closer // I feel memories thought lost // in the fires of fairy land”

Breaker Box

Dwell

Sarah

Maria

There’s Nothing Under the Bed

Eyes!

Eyes II

Bridal Style

Witches Screamer, (IP, Single, 1999)

“moons come crashing down // like asteroids of love”

“like asteroids of love // in the fever dream // where time waxes and wanes // falls wide open, gibbous // and lets the wide river time // draw past in slow and marching number”

Miracle Haze, (NBB, Album, 2000)

Fungi Funky

“beyond wasted babe, you think the sky crashes down”

Miracle Haze

 “loving you like a bruise // don’t fade to that miracle haze // purple wine stain like a storm brews”

What He Said In Nonsense

“just try falling, it doesn’t matter why // promise it won’t hurt if it doesn’t”

“and it’s like sunlight // on my poor face // red lightning fades like capillaries // you bloodless but alive enough to smile”

Marmalade Mornings

Lavender, Allium

Space Out

Forage

Amelia

Pizza Van Greens

Cheapened Scars, (IP, Album, 2003)

Dream the Law Maker

“miraculous doesn’t fade like cheap scars // keep drinking pinot noir with panda eyes”

“she’s the asteroid and fever dream // it’s a miraculous, world cracking love // the cusp of greatness it seems // us with the wine-stain devotion // that won’t wash out // like rocks even time can’t carve aside”  

Long Drive By Compass

“what I said that day, and why I left // haunt me like you in the back seat // from Cincinnati, on”

“long drive by nautical means // (magic compass) show me a way that ain’t home // feel like I’m swimming in you still // angry words like the choppy sea // first saw the sea with you // now you’re not beside me it seems // that life is a long drive by nautical means”

“your eyes in the back seat // from Cincinnati on // your dark eyes too warm // when your mouth is that cold”

Loveless Loser Overture

“sun strike me down now if I’m wrong // strike me down now // strike me down // bloodless like king kong”

“a V of geese silhouettes // marking the season turn // like the browning leaves // and cold north winds // horizon afire with sunset // strike me down now // or send me home”

Pantyhose Doorknob

On The Run Blind

Shades

Motel Blues

Cheapened Scars

Stealing Candy From ‘Em is Easy, Try Killing For, (BTBB, Album, 2005)

Killing For Candy

“killing for you ain’t sweeter // but sometimes it’s easier // than taking loving hold of loving hand”

On the Road to Hell

 “little council // full of words learnt // on the edge of death // and the cusp of life // I want to set school desks // amidst the rocks // and leave them to learn // while I ride // to the valley of death”

Dirty Mattress Portals

Aftermath

Back of the Gymnasium

 “only time our paths cross // you drinking water like it’s life blood // sweaty bangs and short shorts // watching me sell out // to the after school flood”

Magic’s Name is Numbered

 “magic’s a little girl (magic’s the little girl) // who talks on the radio (talks on the radio) // magic’s a little girl (magic’s the little girl) // standing next to me (standing in front of me) // when our days are numbered (numbered, darling) // magic’s that little girl (that little magic girl) // who rides the lightning storm”

Childhood Sweet Tooth

 “he took a dance (she took a dance) // out on that gym made ballet score // she’s in her eyes (like the world spins past) // he’s in his eyes (like the sun awakens you) // they’re dancing up a storm // bright like nebulas made candyfloss (like liquorice black holes) // they took a dance (gym made ballet score)”

Quarry

Arcade Parking Lots

Fungi Funky Reprise, (NBB, Single, 2006)

“we know we’re madder // than that hatter // oh darling, at and with and -ly in // and something in-between // did you really think the sky would crash down? // when it’s you and me?”

The Orange Tree House, (NBB, Album, 2007)

Lionesses Stalk My Kitchen

 “the girls bring in the carcass // rotting, foetid, technicoloured fleece of dreams // they say eat it, like toffees, this time swallow // and oh, my heads falling at the seams // and something in my heart is hollow // carrion crows hop on my lion’s deadly sin // the girls loll in the sun // and wait for us to eat”

“wrinkles and sun damage // on Leonid leonine eyes // textures my fingertips have known // counted, loved // smoothed and designed // an image of time // I: the architect”

Scarlette

“wind rush in the Corvette // her eyes starlit // and her kisses like orbit // eyes like chocolate // big bang started with a turn of the faucet // to meet Scarlette // brink where stars are darkest // her eyes starlit // and her kisses like orbit // eyes like chocolate”

Greenwich Mean Time

 “time feels like rust on a porch swing // like flowers growing where the earth // opens her mouth to sing // time feels like that, on summer days”

Polarise / Polar Rise / Polaroid

“_polarise opinion, doe eyes // darling knows she’s too good for Polaroid // but digital’s for the tabloid // let me take a picture girl in Vogue // polar ice will rise // before your looks polarise // Polaroid like it’s eighties, darling // doe eyes, and kissing girls // is in vogue”

FL

Oranges

Bella

1990

Guest Room

Suntrap Garden

Gilded, (IP, Single, 2008)

“it was girls hopping stepping stone rocks // below the boulders of your gallery // (take your pick, liege) // beer sweating up in the copse // please don’t ask for Mallory // she don’t want to join the gilded folk // or to float that blue sound soak // girl on the stepping stones alone // someone said her name is Sloane”

“soft eyed king // and Sloane // outside the stars and Mallory // dance the wizard dance // John and the innocent // tied by strings”

Daffodils In Autumn, (NBB, Single, 2009)

“don’t turn your eyes from that rear-view // I’m in the mirror calling, don’t look at the road ahead”

“Leala follows God across the sky // in your wing mirror // held by spider web strings // into blue and bird sound sky // into grey overcast // ahead on the road // songs and stars dance // Leala holds her peace // I’m in the mirror calling, please”

Wish Monsters Stayed Dreaming, (BTBB, Album, 2013)

Second Look

“honey, I’ve gotta feeling somethin’s outside // don’t take a second look, I don’t wanna know”

Where Are We Going Now

“I’m looking in the mirror, can’t see you now // (passenger seat, darling) // you were meant to haunt me, I’m still looking back // (passenger seat, darling)”

“sun don’t matter if the moon’s looking on // like miracles in solar flares // lighting us both just enough to see by”

Stayed Dreaming

Wishing Well

Flowers, No Note

Shoulder To

Tableau

Open Season

Salmon Run

Northern Lights Off Switch

Corner of the Dance Floor

Gonna Be Abput Yoou, (IP, Single, 2014)

“made you a promise // built on our ash-soaked rudiments // like cornerstones bleeding tequila come new year’s eve // but I made you a promise, spirit eyed or not // this songs gonna be about you”

“call me back on things I said // say nothings changed // but the sun don’t burn so bad // love was something I did to you // now it’s something I drown in // call me back on the things I said // I’m gonna uphold promises, I’m gonna tear down threats”

“made you a promise // built on our ash-soaked rudiments // like cornerstones bleeding come midsummer // I made you a promise, fat fingered or not // this songs gonna be about you”

All This Way Please, (IP, Album, 2015)

Love’s A Lake

“on the heart shaped bank // waits youth in the wings // watching as we plunge // to the brackish jade waters sank // where hell awaits, eerily sings // for them, I think // we return from the brink”

Hellfire

All This Way

“_wet paper // tears beneath my feet // and we go tumbling // one year to the next // hardly a moment to grab on // and make memories // even in the slow heat of morning // and the hum of summer afternoons”

Pleasing

Begging You On the Way (Out)

Devil’s Tang — erine

Drowning Tax

Georgia

Elephant in the Room

The Forest Out Back, (NBB, Album, 2016)

Eden’s

On Moss

“time like hot soup // afternoons like treacle wells // until the flowers droop // and curl their petals // into bedtime kisses // the mosquitoes and the stars // and laughter gells // tears in the dark // where monsters still sleep // by the sundial mark”

The Forest Out Back

Skull Rock Revisited

 “sunbeams through spring leaves // us at the altar that holds minds // the lake deepens ahead like warning clouds // the children kneel about us // and we bind our hands // sunbeams through spring leaves // at the boulder of love born again”

Oaken

Sunbed Wilderness

The Valley

School’s Out

Wine Stain

Sundress

Ellie

Blood in the Water’s Good for Drowners, (BTBB, Album, 2023)

Lady Jane Grey of the Basketball Team

 “tell them what you want // an’ don’t line up that shot // tell them what you want, hold it up to vaunt // don’t let it be the crown baby, it’s thorns baby // I’ve given up that throne, isn’t mine to haunt”

“lion’s mane and pool aquamarine // don’t open up your mouth // and show us the hollows // they took your fangs, baby // and with it the crown”

Entwined

 “side by side (by side) // entwined at the mountaintop // no more time to bide (to bide) // just us at the world’s stop // where time goes on (the great beyond)”

Letters for the Bold

 “whole constellations fall // the moment we breathe // and stars flicker out and die // and the blackness of space overwhelms // the phone line clicks // somewhere I’m still breathing”

“you said the moon falls // you said that space is nothing // but what’s that now creeping over the garden walls // if space is nothing // where do monsters breathe // and flicker // and die”

Ice Rings Like Saturn

 “there isn’t time to talk // I’ve been hiding in dark spaces // there’s only time to sing there // only time to write // darling, I’ve tried talking // in the dark spaces”

Sun-Bleached Bones

 “blood in sun soaked water // do you feel like you’re drowning now? // SPF and pool noodle, space suit left back stage”

“I’ve been hiding, back seat and rear-view // but been loving you since y days”

“it’s always been bats for us and bats don’t swim // but there’s blood in sun soaked water // and your bones are white like mine // let me touch them, when I can see not moonlit // when the biggest star looks close // do you feel like you’re drowning now?”

In Legalese: Can’t Tell You More ft. Tammy Thompson

“What did you say to me, hello? That the fires burn yellow? // Now I’ll take you by the elbow “baby, forecast says snow” // You say it’s August, you doing blow? // I’ll say it’s this town, baby! This fucking town! // Fires burn black and snows year round // And dead don’t mean dead until you see it first hand // What did you say to me, hello? That the fires burn yellow? // Now I’ll take you by the elbow “baby, forecast says snow” // You say it’s August, you doing blow? // Blossoms open with teeth and tongues // And the bats are really vampires, baby. // I can’t tell you again, it’s this fucking town. // In the snows // With vampires // And petal maws // This fucking town // Don’t ask me on air // (Oh babe, please don’t) // Can’t say more, babe // Don’t ask me on air // (Small print, baby) // In the snows // With vampires // And petal maws // This fucking town // When the gorge opens up”

Silver

“dying isn’t so much one silence // but one mellow moment // and another // honeyed sweet // and going silver // like slow worms and iron // feels like becoming the earth // before it eats you”

“curling in the coffins // with silver bones // fusing to ancient stones”

Blood in the Water

Good for Drowners

Memories in Triplicate

Treasure Map

spent the afternoon adding songs to the incompleted albums. this (should be) a complete list of all the lyrics i wrote for any of the songs. as with all my fics i welcome transformative media (just use the inspired by function on ao3/tag me) so feel free to go wild if you want to write any of the rest of these songs. it’s been fun writing the series and i hope you enjoyed it to!

love fives

[banerpg]

At the center of a cluster of ancient towers stands the Citadel, the pinnacle point of Vinnesse raised atop the cliffside where great swells curl in from the North Sea and lash against cragged rock. It is a harsh region of howling wind that carries the taste of brine up from the tide spray; a fierce nature that seems to mimic the power of its inhabiting mages. The fellowship is welcomed in strides, wandering the soaring infrastructures beneath keen stares until all arrive to convene within a grave chamber that bears an aura of severity. Its effects are black in colour and all carved from dark stone, the edges of the furnishings seemingly honed by a whetstone — nearly sharp enough to cut the skin, if you catch it just right. It is there they pledge their lives to the destruction of the gauntlet, the arcane artefact peering into the minds of its new sentry from the round table's core. It is oxidised and black, merely another relic of the Great War to the unwitting eye. But when it begins to whisper to those twelve minds, it is swiftly enveloped by elven cloth and eased away. A moon surpasses them. And during this time, DARK HEIR and BONE PYRE pore over maps late into the night, exchanging thoughts and expertise on the best course through The Black Valley from a cumulation of their travels. They are aided by the scholar GRAVE RELIC, familiar with the archives of Vinnesse and even NIGHT SHRIKE, who shifts into a generously sized kestrel to retrieve an aged atlas that collects dust upon the top shelf. But it is not as quiet as they'd prefer during its study, and BLACK OATH'S eye strays once towards the echo of elevated tones. In the room across them, the council challenges GOD BURNER'S decision to join the quest, and the display leaves STORM SAINT with a centuries old headache. LOST POET idly strums a tune, stalling in their explanation as to why an earlier sparring session with FALSE KNIGHT went so poorly if they are supposed to be a trained knight. The lamp keeping the charts aglow runs low on oil, and before DUSK BLADE can break from the flip of their knife to fetch another, LIGHT BRINGER succeeds in conjuring a sphere of light. Someone spares an appreciative word in their direction, but BLOOD OMEN looks on in disdain, lounging on a settee with a pair of guards at their back.

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐆 is now open for interactions ! For our opening setting, it has been one week since the fellowship has arrived in Vinnesse and it is their last day before they officially set out on their journey to destroy the gauntlet in Antirac. Feel free to drop all open starters or in the respective tag ( bane.start ), as well as toss a link in our starter channel in the discord, especially if it's an open thread there. Make sure you're following everyone on the blogroll and I look forward to writing with you all soon ( all threads should be set within Vinnesse unless writing out a past scenario ). A final reminder that threads taking place on tumblr must be made with the beta editor + xkit rewritten ( if you need any help with this, please do not hesitate to ask ). Part one of our first chapter will only last for roughly a week or two at max as it's meant as a soft start to help everyone settle into both the world and your characters, and part two will officially see them on the road.

[jolieeason]

WWW Wednesday: March 20th, 2024

WWW Wednesday is a weekly meme Sam hosts at Taking on a World of Words. The Three Ws are: What are you currently reading? What did you recently finish reading? What do you think you’ll read next? Here is what I am currently reading, recently finished, and plan to read from Thursday to Wednesday. Let me know if you have read or are planning on reading any of these books!! Happy…

[aamaranthiine]

things your muse will notice about mine

what they look like:

enchanting. her beauty is arresting, breath stealing, heart aching. ethereal in its timelessness. starshine beneath her skin, woven in the strands of her thigh length, pure-white hair. how she subtly glows in darkness or under moonlight. soft lips and a noble face, like she stepped from the oil canvas of a queen's portrait; untouched by the ravages of time.

her eyes are large, doe-like, a midnight indigo hue, as depthless as the seas and filled with glimpses of secret wild places and forgotten beasts. eerie, unsettling, you could get lost in them; they rarely reflect her current surroundings.

she is not tall or imposing, rather average height and build. yet she carries herself with a quiet confidence; rarely is her presence demanding but still it commands attention when noticed.

to some, her loveliness is striking and invokes yearning. to just linger in the halo of her being. or to others; they covet, greedy to have whatever it is that makes her so haunting. she robs them of something, makes the emptiness of their souls throb like fresh wounds. men compelled to bloodshed and war for her.

what they smell like:

like spring in a lilac wood. fresh rain and tilled earth, loamy and fertile for new life to begin. like sweet grass and sweeter honeysuckle, the ticklish hints of ephemeral blooms as winter turns over to spring. an ever present floral scent beneath earthier tones.

sometimes she smells of the sea, salt and brine and sun-kissed. flushed with warmth and sweat, hints of ozone from unpredictable storms raging overhead.

what they taste like:

hints of mint. she has a habit of keeping sprigs of mint on her to chew, so it tingles on her lips and tongue. like moonlight; cool and the silvery of snow-melted mountain water.

what they sound like:

calm and gentle, with little inflection in her speech and an indiscernible accent. wind chimes in a slight breeze, there is sometimes a subtle echo tailing off the final syllables spoken. rarely does she feel the need to raise her voice. formal, even poetic in how her words are uttered.

emotions curl beneath the steadiness of her verbage, some more obvious than others, but still she never shouts. her voice can soothe tempests, or cut deep and savage like the claws of a predator.

what they feel like:

if you can even get near enough to touch her, or be so blessed that she touches you? she is soft. smooth skin and pliant flesh, save for some roughness on her knees and feet from a life spent wandering. delicate hands with long fingers and silky palms. her hair is like cirrus and dandelion fluff, almost weightless when threaded through wandering fingers.

she's warm and comfortable, indulgent, it is by her grace that anyone is allowed near her.

for all her physical tenderness and supposed fragility, there is strength beneath. magic thrumming in her veins, sometimes enough to leave one tingling when in contact with her.

stolen from: @mingos and @a-musing-mixologist do the thing!

[girl-among-mts]

1. 'Tinsel'

The lights of the spaceport glittered through the rain; fragile, fractured tinsel. Cold, but beautiful, and the air tasted of brine. It felt like night, though by the ship’s calculations, it was merely mid-afternoon.

“Does it always rain here like this?” Rose asked, turning from the end of the shuttle’s ramp, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket. Her breath clouded white.

“More often than not,” came the curt, almost bored reply as the man she’d traveled with turned up his coat collar, making his way down towards her.

“Though,” Hux peered out at their damp surroundings, “the storms do break. On occasion.”

Rose had never been to Arkanis before, though she'd had plenty of experience with cold environments. Damp environments, too, though this place reminded her very little of the Resistance's old jungle outpost.

“So,” she said, zipping up her jacket, “how far are we going tonight?”

“Not far,” Hux said fiddling with the ship’s security panel. “Our final destination would take a good handful of hours yet. We’ll set off tomorrow.”

Rose’s expression brightened “Ooh, a night in town. I’m sure there’s plenty of local flair to savor.”

Hux grimaced.

“Doubtful.”

[fangirling221b]

Look at Me

Darling, to be perceived

Ain't that the biggest price you pay

For being able to see?

To taste the light that leaves from your skin

Oh! what a sin. Oh, what a sin!

I know how my face, what an awful visage

To behold, withhold,

In my eyes, a tragedy foretold

Worth putting on a blindfold

But the first time that you saw me

unknown, alone and underground

Some part of me began to break, escape

In search of the same melody

A melancholy of solace

…..

And when your soul melds into mine

Your giggles at the funeral, my knack for refusal

Too sweet, at times too much brine

In my laughter, see your humour shine

Won't you look at me baby?

Won't you look at me baby?

Won't you look at me baby?

Would you look at you, baby?

…..

Oh, to be loved, is to be seen

Yet, lover, I'd be

blind and beloved, to your Medusa

I'd become the screen, embracin’

The shadows you love to dwell in

I'd write this song

into the inside of your eyelids

Never to be seen again, Never to be heard

Never to exist outside, for anyone third

And I'd whisper into your ears, horny Hozier lines

Run away with you, from the Dinner and Diatribes

To roam around the woods we could end up dead inside

Watching Eros arise, all inhibition untied

……

If you find out one day, that I was the Mastermind

Thread of the fates that I intertwined

This perfect love story that I designed

Would you go back to change it all

Would you look at me babe?

Would you look at me baby

Would you look at me baby?

Would you look at me again?

…….

Oh but to love someone who bleeds in blue

I'm so sorry to have made one out of you

It's a curse, my love, an abomination

A calamity in the name of creation

Born of rage, forged by tears

Of solitude desire and despair

It's a wicked thing, Honey,

Don't heed its call

Don't feed it, it will devour

honey, it will devour

Best untamed, Better unnamed

Crawling up my spine, this art I call mine

It knows the worst of all my days

Only the worst of all my ways

Only the worst

Of all my ways

…..

And when the debt that is love has reached its filling

Every dead version of me, tired of its killing

When the kindness in me has reached its billing

Would you still look at me, babe?

Won't you look at me, baby?

Won't you look at me, baby?

Won't you look at me, baby?

Why'd you look at me, baby?

……

When all is said and done,

Our undead youth, alive and returned

No plan left for us, but to ravish this skin

As close to ashes as it can come

When my ink has dried from years of treachery

No words left in me, no worship, no faith, no fury

Your secrets in my heart, are all that I now contain

Love in my skin, from your kisses that remain

When I am but an echo of what I used to be

all around us now, only ghosts of me

Remind me again, of our love story

Lover, could you be good to me?

Lover, be good to me.

At the edge of the storm, the ninth circle of hell

What little left of me, for which you really fell

What are we anymore, you could never tell

Would you still look at me, babe?

Won't you look at me, baby?

Won't you look at me, baby?

Won't you look at me, baby?

I hope you would.

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Not Interested - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 4: Reticent

Ao3

-

There probably wasn’t a single bar across the continent of Eorzea that Warrior of Light had not visited at least once. Whatever had started her on such a strange, pointless quest, she couldn’t remember. No doubt in part because of the plenty of drinks she consumed at such places. All that really mattered, is she unearthed hidden gems in the various hole-in-the-wall, underground businesses dotted throughout the city-states. If asked, she doubted she could ever choose a favorite.

There was an old mill just outside Gridanian, a party house that blared live music and served dubious, magic infused drinks in utter contrast to the city’s typical calming, quiet venues. There were more bars on the sea than land in Limsa, crashing through the waves until the alcohol ran dry, promising a bender to test the mettle of even the most daring. Ul’dah had the move variety. Any kind of experience one wanted found somewhere amongst the varied streets of the desert oasis, whether or not the law allowed it. How many unlucky bars had she shut down because they unknowingly offered their most debauched services to her, a captain of the Immortal Flames?

That was to say, Halditar was a regular of several sanctuaries where alcohol flowed and the atmosphere was good.

This wasn’t one of them.

It was an ungodly late, humid Lominsan summer night. The only ones prowling the alleys and streets were ghosts, the sailors, merchants, and crafters, only just prying themselves from work before they collapsed where they stood. She was amongst the latter, having ripped herself from the blacksmith’s forge before she keeled over from hunger. How desperate she was for a decent meal and ice cold drink. With news of some freshly opened places in her mind, she walked until one came into view. Halditar thought the sanctuary was around the corner.

Now she was genuinely considering she might have been better off starving, and collapsed in the streets.

She sighed, swirling around the tepid contents of her mug. Watery, brown swill that tasted more like a glass of hay than beer. The ales and wines weren’t much better, mixed with little care for taste, to prolong the quantity of their alcohol over the quality. The young barkeep, bless his soul, was trying. But whoever taught clearly thought bartending was simply ‘pour drinks and serve.’ With dingy, boring furniture and a few wharf rats seen in the corners, she could name a hundred better, cheap places than this.

And somehow, the food was worse.

Her culinarian’s soul rolled over dead when she recieved a fish filet still dotted with scales and drowned in entirely too much, practically burned brown butter sauce. Served only barely warmer than her drinks, she made no fuss when a seagull swept by and stretched it off her plate. Better than it stinking up her table with the odor of char and undercooked seafood. If not for the sheer exhaustion in her legs and the far-too-nice view, she’d have left far earlier.

The silken fabric of her happi jacket was sticking to her back from all the sweat. Her skirt hitched as high as she could get it, long pale legs exposed, hoping to catch some kind of cool breeze as she rocked on the patio chair, looking out to the sea. Small black waves reflected the stars and moon far above, and beyond the scent of brine and salt, the barest hint of ozone could be caught on the wind. A storm wasn’t far off, and with the ungodly weight of the air these past few days, it couldn’t come fast enough. Her only solace was this miserable night.

“Well, aren’t I a lucky sort? Finding the prettiest treasure I ever saw,” a voice ruined the quiet, and Halditar lolled her head to the other side of her table. Some hyur, a brunette as boring as they came, sat across from her. Reeking of cheap drinks and cologne. “All alone, darling?”

“And enjoying it too.” she punctuated herself with a long, hearty drink from her mug. To her annoyance, he just laughed.

“Then let’s be alone together, why don’t we? I can’t imagine anything better than getting to know a stranger over a few drinks. My treat, of course.” “I can think of plenty better. I’ve no interest in the likes of you. Scram.” Halditar would not play this game. Normally she’d play around a bit, but hot, tired, and pissed off she just didn’t give a rat’s ass. She wanted to choke down the alcohol she paid for in peace and scram to the Missing Member for some real grub. Gods, something like a fondue sounded grand right now. Just cheese and bread and little, salty meats. If she was lucky, Rhoswen would be there and they could split a bottle of wine…

“Oh come now, beautiful! If you only got to know me, I’m sure you’d change your tune real quick. Why not make a game of it? Why don’t we? Back and forth, we’ll ask questions about each other. I’ll even give you a little something for free to start. I’m quite an up-and-coming musician in these parts,” Halditar snorted. That just meant he was a nobody with barely a gig under his belt. Before she could say as much, he rambled on. “Now, let’s start with your name. Why don’t we?”

“None of your business.”

“Temper, temper, darling! Maybe you’d like to ask the first question instead, then?” “Okay. Fuck off, will ya?”

Getting her gils worth wasn’t even a question anymore. She just wanted away from this cursed place. She flung the contents of her mug over the railing and stood, stomping back toward the bar as she dug in her pocket for whatever spare gil she had in there. Handing it to the barkeep with a look that had to have been something nasty, the way he flinched away at her approach.

“Not the best of places, was it? So where to next?” she stumbled as she walked out. That damned hyur followed her. And she was fresh out of patience.

“The bottom of the sea.”

As the ‘what’ slipped from his lips, she had both hands on him and his feet on the ground. As he kicked and shouted to little effect, she walked over to the nearest ledge and looked down. Yup, he wouldn’t die from this, but it would sure as hells hurt. She didn’t even offer him fanfare or parting words, she didn’t want to waste a single breath more on this pest. So, as she would with any vermin, she simply let him go. Leaning over the edge as she watches him sail through the air, before landing in the brine. Seeing him resurface and start swimming to the nearest dock, all while cursing up a storm. A wide, shit-eating grin smeared her features as she resisted adding further insult by spitting at him.

“Learn to take a hint! Otherwise, chances are next time you won’t be alive by the time someone tosses you into the sea!” She warned, the least she could do after running his night and knowing how many women in the city of pirates carried around daggers they would use for less. Her mood dramatically improved. She walked off into the night intending to make it even better with good food and drinks.

[auxesiawasasleep670]

EMBERS

The night was as heavy as the tight corset on her abdomen, The rain on her wedding was a bad omen.  She tasted like honey and wine, Her desires drowned in the foaming brine.

She did not lose hope… She recalls her good days in the meadows of her father's arms, As her dreams danced like a top on her palms.

Then she grew up. Grew up to live as per societal norms, Taming down her heart's raging storm.

She was a fire as bright as the sun, In the cold night, she came undone.

She still has not given up…

The storm inside her rages still, She believes life will be again a thrill. As you mark the dying embers of the fire, A bird rises from the ashes, You think it's a phoenix, But it is her.