#hills in the distance my beloved

[obsob]

the days are still dark but i have started to see wild flowers on my walks :)

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (22)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He cursed himself in his head for giving in to her, for letting her fly on Larax, soaring towards the skies on Vhagar, looking out for her from afar with a clenched throat. Despite the fact that she hadn't run away with Daemon, he couldn't get over his fear that she would flee, that she would abandon him again.

That she would rip his heart out.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he caught sight of the shining, shimmering blue and silver slender figure of her dragoness in the distance, finding with satisfaction that they were heading in the right direction. He turned over his shoulder, terrified as he flew over them and heard a squeal below, Larax terrified by Vhagar's sudden presence panicked.

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh when he heard his niece's commands, and after a moment her dragon calmed down and joined him, flying a little lower at his side.

He could not contain an involuntary smile of satisfaction as he felt the heat that filled his heart at the thought that here was his dream come true, and he was at last roaming the skies with his wife.

Although Aegon sometimes allowed him to accompany him on his visits to the Dragon's Pit, when he could get a close look at Sunfyre, it brought him neither joy nor comfort. He knew it was their mother who had forced him to take his little brother with him, thinking it would help him, meanwhile it only deepened his grief and sadness.

It wasn't his dragon, but his brother's, so what was he to be happy about?

His attitude, however, was quite different about his niece's dragoness when their betrothal was announced.

She was to become his wife, and as a wedded pair they were to share everything with each other, so he felt that he could also partly acknowledge Larax as his own.

When he saw her for the first time he thought that only Sunfyre matched her beauty.

Larax had blue-silver scales shimmering in the light of day, her nature gentle and docile, at the sight of his betrothed she acted and squealed in excitement like a small, happy child.

At first she hissed at him when he tried to approach her, however, when his niece took his hand in hers and placed it on her back, Larax allowed him to stroke her and from then on she accepted his presence with calmness.

Her scales were rough and sharp, yet smooth and pleasant to the touch, sparkling with various shades of blue like a gems, making him gasp in delight.

Looking at her now, he could not get out of his mind how she had grown, how wide and slender her wings were, with what lightness she swirled in the air.

Compared to her, his beloved old Vhagar was like a great flying stone fortress.

When they arrived, his wife landed by the fortress itself, but he had to find a lair for Vhagar in which she would pose no threat to anyone; he finally spotted a small grassy hill from below and ordered her to lower her flight, finally landing with a sigh of relief.

For some reason he was both joyful and terrified of what awaited them, hundreds of thoughts running through his head.

What if Rheanyra wants to kidnap her? What if she orders her to stay in the Eyrie? What if they reject their terms?

What if he has to kill them?

Despite the beautiful sunny weather and the wonderful journey at his wife's side, these gloomy thoughts consumed his mind completely. When he finally reached the gates of Harrenhal and spotted the figure of Larys Strong in the distance, he only prayed that he would be allowed to rest at least for a moment.

He glanced at his wife, who smiled at him uncertainly, tense, something about the person of Larys Strong or the woman standing next to him had obviously made her uncomfortable.

He decided it did not matter, tired and sore from sitting in one position, and directed his words to the heir of Harrenhal.

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters."

Larys Strong did indeed direct them straight to his rooms, much more modest and cramped than those in King's Landing. He pulled off his leather gloves, frustrated that the Lord kept speaking and speaking and speaking, glancing up at him only when he mentioned that he had prepared other quarters for his wife.

No, he thought.

Her place was with him.

They were staying in a nest of vipers and he had no intention of letting any of them bite her.

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." He said impatiently; Lord Strong raised his eyebrows as if genuinely surprised by his words.

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you." He said lightly, and he pressed his lips together, casting a tired, enraged look at his wife, who stared at him with her big, warm eyes full of understanding.

They were both exhausted, but nothing could be done.

He sighed and nodded, ordering her to leave them alone, leading her and the woman who had followed her away with anxious gaze.

Was this the famous Witch of Harrenhal?

What if she does indeed cast a spell on her?

What if she pours poison into her honey or wine?

Larys Strong snapped him out of his reverie by sitting down at a table standing just beside the window, leaning his staff against the back of his chair, sighing softly.

"Your grandfather has conveyed to me what matter has brought you here, my Prince, and has asked me to personally take care of everything if the matter gets out of hand." He said meekly, as if he had just been telling him about the weather or what meals would be served to them at supper.

He felt an unpleasant shiver run along his spine, a cold sweat on the back of his neck as he threw him a quick, shocked look, his heart pounding like mad.

Lord Strong seemed amused by his reaction, a smile appeared on his face from which he felt an unpleasant squeeze in his guts.

"I have my little birds in the Eyrie who chirp to me about everything that happens there. Daemon and Rhaenyra arrived there this morning − they will also spend the night there after your negotiations. If their answer is not to our satisfaction, the matter will be resolved in a slightly different way."

He swallowed loudly, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like if he moved even a little he would vomit immediately, disbelief, shock and horror vibrating through his entire body.

They wanted to take advantage of the fact that they felt safe in their kin's fortress.

They wanted to kill them.

They wanted him to betray his wife.

He answered nothing, unable to even find the words for what he was feeling as he stared blankly out the window, noticing the silhouette of Larax shining in the sunlight, his hands clenched into fists.

"It is for the good of the kingdom, my Prince. War is no one's desire." He said lightly, rising on his staff, walking with difficulty out of his chamber, leaving him alone with the cold, terrifying chill he felt in his chest.

He pressed his lips together, trying not to cry like a child.

What if Rheanyra did not accept their terms?

What option would be left for them?

He felt devastated at the thought that none.

There would be nothing that could be done.

They had to do anything to make them agree.

They had to lie.

His mind was filled with dark, gloomy thoughts as his wife stepped into the chamber where he and Larys were already seated, waiting for her to begin supper. He squinted as he saw that her hair was entwined around her head in braids, for some reason he felt frustrated thinking that this was surely the witch's idea.

What were they discussing?

What had she said to her?

"Beautiful hairstyle, my Lady." Said Lord Strong; he pressed his lips together, impatient, thinking he was a fucking snake plotting how to kill her mother while throwing her sweet, empty compliments.

He wondered, horrified, if, as far as she was concerned, he and his grandfather had their own plans too.

His wife expressed her gratitude to him with a happy smile and turned her eyes on him, her gaze bright and warm, completely unaware of what was happening around her.

"And you, my husband? What do you think?" She asked lightly, and he licked his lips, furious, horrified, devastated.

"I prefer it when your hair is loose." He replied drily, feeling however instantly remorseful at the look of sadness, pain of rejection that flashed across her face. She blinked and lowered her head, swallowing quietly as she grabbed for her cup, his heart beating harder at the thought that the wine might have been poisoned.

Nothing happened to her, however, and she did not look at him again for the rest of the supper, smiling despite her distress, exchanging courteous remarks with Lord Strong. When she rose, saying that she was exhausted and wished already to prepare for sleep, his heart pounded harder.

"As soon as you have finished, come to my chamber." He commanded. She nodded and left, leaving them alone.

There was an awkward silence between them.

"Your wife is indeed a sweet and innocent creature, my Prince." Lord Strong said, and he cast him a stern, furious look, sensing the subtext in that sentence, some kind of malicious threat from which he felt unpleasant chills running through his veins.

"If anything happens to her, I will rip out your tongue, I will gouge out your eyes, I will cut off your hands; I will cut off parts of your body piece by piece until only your torso and your head remain. Do you understand?" He asked in a low, calm, cold voice − Larys Strong looked at him piercingly, a smile on his lips from which he felt that terrible squeeze in his stomach again.

"Yes, my Prince."

When he returned to his chamber he was just a bundle of nerves, pacing around as if in a trance, terrified, confused, horrified, thinking only of the fact that he needed her, that he had to look at her face, speak to her in private, come up with some plan, anything from which he would be able to sleep a wink that night.

Should he tell her or not?

What if she decides that his family has betrayed her, that she can't trust them?

What if she panicked, if she changed her mind at the last minute, changed sides?

FUCK!

He waited and waited and waited, and she did not appear. He growled loudly, burying his face in his hands, desperate and impatient − the tension in his lower abdomen caused by the lack of their closeness for the last few days was unbearable for him.

He didn't want to make her suffer discomfort when she was already in such pain, thinking that if he waited and let her rest, he would thereby prove that he didn't just care about their physical intimacy, that he respected her and was willing to wait.

He broke from his seat, deciding that enough was enough, and walked out, heading aggressively with a quick step towards her chamber, opening the door with a loud slam. He froze in place, looking in disbelief at the scene before him.

The Witch of Harrenhal held his niece's hand close to her face, kneeling by her tub, his wife submerged in the water with only her nightgown clinging to her bare body, which was clearly visible through the thin material.

For one brief moment it seemed to him that the woman removed her free hand from under her skirt at the sight of him.

What the fuck was she doing?

Both of them looked at him in shock − the witch stood up and bowed to him, bending her head humbly.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" He growled enraged, feeling his whole body quiver in fury, his hands clenched into fists.

The woman left the chamber without a word, and he rushed towards his niece like a lion about to pounce on its prey − her large eyes widened in shock, her lips parted in a hastened breath, her cheeks all flushed in a way she looked when he took her in his bed.

The thought enraged him even more.

"− what is the meaning of this? − hm? −" He hissed, looking at her expectantly, but she merely raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture, her hand clenched on the edge of her tub.

Gods, give me patience, he thought in fury.

"− can't I leave you alone even for a fucking moment? −" He asked with rage as if he had just reprimanded a small, disobedient child. She blinked, clearly trying to get something out of herself after all.

"− I-I asked her for help −"

What?

"− help with what, that she had to kneel beside you and hold your hand? − you are fucking bare −" He burst out, not believing a word she said, her cheeks turning scarlet at his words, the innocent hot look in her eyes killing him.

"− I − I can't tell you, it's embarrassing −"

"− gods, I swear I'm about to rip you to shreds −"

"− we were discussing embarrassing feminine matters − she showed me something…important − for you too −" She finally mumbled out, and he furrowed his brow, understanding absolutely nothing of her explanation, increasingly frustrated that she wasn't telling him the truth.

"− I want to know what this brazen whore was doing to my wife −" He growled in a cold, enraged voice, and she swallowed hard, knowing he was about to explode.

"− very well − I − I will try to show it to you − just − just don't get upset and sit on the bed −"

He was distrustful at first, but did as she asked.

And then his concerns, his fear and terror vanished, replaced by a complete dullness of his mind due to the surprising delight that the touch of her soft, warm lips on his fat, throbbing erection gave him.

When she added her fleshy, moist tongue to her caresses, licking the pink, swollen head of his cock with its tip he thought it was over for him.

He fucked her throat like there was no tomorrow, panting loudly with clenched eyelids, holding her hair in the firm grip of his hands, thrusting his hard cock deep between her sweet lips with the deep stabs of his hips, moaning helplessly as her tongue teased him with the sticky click of her saliva.

She squirmed loudly as he quickened his pace, again and again hitting the back of her throat, tears of exertion running down her cheeks as she tried to breathe loudly through her nose to keep from suffocating.

"− I know − please, please, let me − oh, fuck, yes, swallow it, swallow, swallow, swallow −" He mumbled out panting heavily, tilting his head back as his seed spilled down her throat at last. He heard her cough quietly, shocked, and swallow loudly, some of his spend trickled from the corner of her mouth down her chin.

It was the most indecent sight he had seen in his entire life.

Indecent and wonderfully beautiful at the same time.

"− come − come here − your husband need to take care of you −" He breathed out, grabbing her around the waist, lifting her lightly, sitting her on his lap. His niece sat down on top of him, cupping his cheeks in her hands, joining their lips in a hot, sticky kiss, her tongue slightly salty from his seed.

His cock pulsed hard at that thought.

He turned and threw her onto her back on the soft bedsheet, pulling her wet nightgown off of her, his swollen lips running over her sternum down her stomach leaving a wet, warm, sticky trail behind. Her body quivered all over as he took her thighs in his hands and spread them in front of him, her hands trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do when his face leaned over her heat.

"− n-no − I'm still dirty −" She mumbled helplessly, embarrassed; he gasped at her words, looking at her swollen folds, from between which her moisture leaked, running the tip of his tongue over her sensitive, fleshy womanhood. She tilted her head back with a moan of delight and desire, her body arching like a string, her hips involuntarily pushing forward to meet his lips.

He couldn't deny himself this, he was too desperate, too terrified, he needed her too badly to stop, to stop himself from sinking his mouth into her weeping cunt, begging him for fulfilment, the tip of his nose running over her bud while his tongue teased her opening with lazy, slow licks.

"− who made you so wet? − her? − hm? −" He hummed, feeling her quickly shake her head, her hands tightening in his hair, pressing him closer, wanting more, her breathing quick and raspy.

"− n-no − I was thinking about you − about you deep inside my mouth −" She muttered, a low, throaty groan escaping his lips that flowed in vibration through her body at her words, his cock swelling all over in his breeches at the memory of what her sweet mouth had done to him as he peaked deep into her throat.

"− did you enjoy it? − the taste of your husband deep in your belly? −" He cooed, sliding his tongue deeper and deeper into her tight, puffy slit; she cried out loudly at his question, her moist walls clenching greedily around nothing.

"− y-yes − oh, gods, please − put it inside me −" She begged, repeating it again and again, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin of her thighs.

How could he deny her?

He lifted himself up on his arm, panting hard, directing his once again swollen erection at her entrance – she was so wet that he thrust into her with one deep push of his hips. They both threw their heads back, delighted at their closeness, at how shockingly pleasurable and intimate the experience was.

"− I've waited so long for this − fuck, this warm cunt is my doom −" He exhaled, despite her cries and the shudders that shook her body imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, pounding into her with the brutal, deep thrusts of his hips, her insides slick with her moisture, making their bare skin slap against each other with a sticky smack again and again.

"− u-uncle − ah − mghmm −" She mumbled, clenching her hands on the material of his tunic, responding devotedly to each of his stabs with the rocking of her hips, her eyes closed, her puffy lips parted sweetly in pleasure.

He leaned over her and kissed her greedily with her sigh of delight, his tongue full of her flavour bursting deep into her throat as he pressed her to the bed, thrusting into her so deeply and quickly that he was hardly slipping out of her.

They both moaned loudly and tightened their fingers on each other's bodies as she threw back her head in wonderful fulfilment, through which her fleshy walls began to squeeze and suck him inside. He cursed under his breath and sighed in relief as the heat in his lower abdomen became unbearable and his seed filled her again, this time taking root in her womb.

They both rocked their hips for a while longer, whimpering and panting into each other's mouths, their lips brushing and teasing each other, their hands stroking each other's faces and hair as they tried to calm down and come down from their peak. He fell on top of her at last without strength, closing his eyes, nuzzling his nose into her hot cheek; he murmured contentedly as her tiny fingers combed through his hair.

"− good gods − I needed this so much −" He muttered, allowing himself to feel like a small, helpless child again in her arms, with his eyes closed, focusing only on the tender, warm touch of her hand.

"− me too, my beloved −" She whispered, and he felt the heat in his heart, the love for her that filled his members like a living fire.

And then he felt a cold sweat on his back, his heart thumping hard at the memory of Larys Strong's words.

It is for the good of the kingdom, my Prince.

War is no one's desire.

He opened his eyes, looking at her soft face, at her closed eyelids, at her lips parted in a calm breath. She murmured with a gentle smile as his fingers ran over her cheek − he felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that perhaps he should tell her.

But what if it was necessary?

What if Rheanyra and Daemon didn't agree, what if they threatened his grandfather, his mother and his siblings?

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, not making a sound when a single, solitary tear of pain and grief ran down the side of his face onto the pillow beneath their heads.

A peaceful, deep sleep did not come to him that night.

Instead he fell into restless slumbers, during which he dreamt that for some reason his niece had stayed with her mother in the Eyrie, that a servant boy had walked into her chamber in the night and cut her throat.

That she had tried to scream his name, her husband's name, terrified and distraught, but only a grunt had escaped her lips.

He awoke with an aggressive tug, feeling his heart pounding like mad, looking down quickly at her body snuggled into his chest, entwined with his legs. His arms closed her in a tighter embrace with her silent sigh, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, inhaling her addictive scent.

The next day, just before they set off to the Eyrie, he left her bed reluctantly, telling her, while she was still sunk in half-sleep, that he would only go and change into his riding attire, that she would not eat or drink anything but wait for him outside the fortress gates.

He was afraid that someone would try to poison her.

He stepped into his chamber feeling that he was shaking all over, repeating in his head the elaborate plan he had devised.

He would lie that she was expecting his child.

That they were in fact supported by the gods themselves, that his father was right when he said that the kingdom could not be divided.

That if he becomes king-regent until his child is born, his queen-wife, her mother and Daemon will be given a seat in the Small Council.

That their family will have a say in all things concerning the kingdom.

In the meantime, they might actually be able to beget an heir, he thought, trying to calm himself down, and then all their worries would resolve themselves.

He tried not to think about what would happen if a daughter was born to them, or if they did not beget a heir at all, if his grandfather began plotting again fearing that it would be Daemon and Rheanyra's children who would sit on the Iron Throne.

They had to agree.

He shuddered, turning away impatiently when he heard the door to his chamber open, wanting to ask the servant how much longer he had to wait but froze, spotting the silhouette of the woman who had driven him to such fury only the day before.

"− get out, woman −" He growled, grabbing the tunic lying on his bed, deciding that he would rather dress himself than let this woman touch him.

She was manipulating his wife's mind, perceiving her innocence, her desires, and trying to inspire her confidence, to approach her in a way that was indecent and unacceptable.

"You will betray her."

He felt his heart stop for a moment when he heard her words and he froze, swallowing hard. He looked at her over his shoulder with his eye wide open, feeling his nostrils quiver with each of his terrified breaths.

Her eyes, the colour of an intense, bright green, seemed to pierce him to the core, something in her gaze that made him both uncomfortable and embarrassed at the same time.

"You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most. You will break her. You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again. You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your despair and longing. You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death."

Tears of horror, shame and disbelief gathered at the corners of his eyes as he saw her smile full of mockery and superiority, a shudder of disgust shook his body as she bowed before him and simply walked away, leaving him alone with her words ringing in his ears like a bell.

He felt that awful, overwhelming constriction in his stomach again, from which his head spun, barely managing to grab the bowl that lay on the table before his insides twisted in convulsions.

He vomited.

[picafreesita]

🌈Chapter 1: Welcome to the neighborhood🌈

The first thing I heard when I finally felt the ground again was the song of some happy birds crossing the sky, the sun was radiant and the fresh air welcomed me to an almost perfect place.

What the fuck is happening?

I can't understand it. What kind of new Lesley game was this?

I stood up from what seemed to be grass. Sitting I observed my own body, it seemed to be complete, I concluded by touching each part, no limb was torn off.

What a fortune.

In the distance, I noticed a few houses and colorful buildings among the treetops.

"A town?" I said in dismay

I started down the hill to get closer to the strange place. This is not possible, is it Clayhill? Why would Lesley send me back here? Remembering our beloved "town" from long ago, a place completely wiped off the face of the earth, was meaningless. The closer I got, I noticed how torn my shoes were, I was covered in dirt, and my clothes were completely ruined.

I arrived at the point where I could hear, laughter. Yes, happy laughter. I looked around, everything was full of life. Each house had a unique style but at the same time, they were in harmony with those bright colors like a rainbow but did not tire the eyes. It was all a friendly environment or at least what it seemed to be.

It certainly wasn't Clayhill, but… Why would it look so familiar?

Between the houses, I noticed several people gathered or… puppets just like me. There was a colorful bird with a tray of cupcakes laughing happily along with a big blue dog with a funny little hat; Next to him were two men, one who appeared to be a mailman holding the hand of another man who was thinner and gray in color.

Everyone ate cupcakes while they watched what appeared to be two girls playing on the sidewalk, one in a pink dress and the other whose head resembled the sun.

Although everything seemed nice, it was strangely calm and cheerful... but What if they were like teachers? Inside I didn't know what to think, thousands of ideas were crossing about what was before me. Possible scenarios of torment and nightmares emerged as I compared what I had experienced with the monstrous puppets of the pink house.

How dangerous were they? How fast could I escape? Is there a way to return to the pink house? Will my friends still be alive? I was so immersed that I just kept looking forward without being noticed.

"Hello?"

I squeezed the scissors in my pocket

"Hello?"

I clung to that cold metal and felt thousands of buzzes covering my entire body.

"Are you okay?"

Someone touched my arm repeatedly. I turned around and saw him.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," He said with a disturbingly friendly smile.

Author`s notes<&lt;<<< >>>>>>> 🌈2

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Bury a candle and give allegiance. 2740 words.

1986

Time had passed since you’d delivered the final line of the spell. Nine minutes, to be precise. You’d said the words, then got off your knees to sit more comfortably on the tiles, your back to the wall. Edward sunk into the bath, letting the water come up to his shoulders.

“We’re almost done,” you whispered. “You have to bury the candle.”

As he dried off and dressed, you retrieved a glass from the kitchen while making a mental note to add clothes to your shopping list.

Carrying the glass of the powered bathwater, you lead the way outside, through Forest Hills, and out to the small wooded area you’d first crossed paths with him. A few neighbours watched you as you went by, but most were busy packing to leave Hawkins.

The vampire dug a small hole and placed the candle in it, then took the glass of water and poured that on top. He covered it up and stood by your side.

“It’s done,” you confirmed. “How do you feel?”

He considered the question for a moment. “The same,”

“You don’t remember anything else?”

Shaking his head, he looked at you. “I’m sorry,”

“What? What are you sorry for?”

“I wasn’t your burden to bear,” he offered. “You do not owe me anything.”

You felt you did though. It was a deep and profound feeling. One that somehow surpassed everything you knew to be true about vampires. It surpassed witch allegiance, seeing you undo another’s hex. And it surpassed both your innate need to protect living creatures and your oath to harm none.

There had to be a reason, but searching for the meaning was a dangerous road to go down. It was a luxury too, one that Hawkins would not afford you.

“We should go home,” you said. “We have a lot to talk about.”

…

1836

“You would never tell me a lie, would you?” You fluttered your eyelashes.

“Me? Deceive you? My beloved little witch? Never.” Although there was levity in his voice, you knew he was being truthful.

“So, then you can confess to me. You can transform into a bat!”

Eddie laughed. “I promise you, I cannot,”

“But the stories!”

“And what of the witches in the stories?” he counterargued, rolling onto his side.

It was past midnight and you were lying together beneath an old oak tree. The ground was still warm, fall not yet prickling the dark with a cool change.

Eddie reached out to gently touch your face. His skin was cold, but it made you flush hot.

“Vampires are very boring,” you teased.

“Imagine my good fortune then, being bound to bore for all eternity, only to find you.”

A day had not passed by since that first kiss without you sneaking off after dark to meet with Eddie. The sun has risen and set no less than sixty days.

In the moonlight you listened to Eddie tell you how he came to be a vampire, how he was damned, amoral, and evil like the others. You knew he was different. It did not matter what he had done, it mattered what he was doing. He hadn’t hunted any of the villagers who lived unaware of such beasts, nor the Native Americans who knew a monster when they saw one.

You knew there were things Eddie kept hidden. How, sometimes he ushered you back to the village earlier than usual, and he’d hunt elsewhere. Inhuman speed allowing him to travel great distances quickly. No, your vampire was not on an animal diet. It was something left unspoken between you.

Instead, you spoke about the places you had been and how the world use to be. You theorised about the future, about how the 1800s would end and what the 1900s would look like. “I cannot picture you in the year 2000,” you said as you sat up.

“No?”

You crossed your legs and Eddie shuffled to lay his head in your lap. As you began to braid sections of his long hair, you tried to imagine it. “Well, we change with the world…”

“I can change with the world,” he argued.

“Can you? How many days did it take for you to answer to Eddie,”

“But I answer to it now,”

“True. You do.” You leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. He smiled, his upper canines slotting neatly into the lower. “Would you answer to it when you’re in your bat form?”

Eddie moved quick, had your fingers between his teeth. There was no pressure, you could take them back at any moment. He looked up at you with his dark eyes, something feral and held in reserve glinting through. He let your hand go.

“If I could do that, would I not be hidden in your pocket all the time?”

Giggling, you nodded. “You would. I would like that,”

“No bats. No… garlic undoings…” He tried to think of all the falsehoods. “Nor beds of soil from the grounds of our deaths. Nor hawthorn. Nor insight into your thoughts…”

It was terrifying, how little of the stories were true. What did that leave known about the vampires?

“Can I protect the humans by telling them not to invite anyone over the threshold of their homes? By arming them with blessed water?”

Eddie’s smile dropped. “Protect them from me?”

“No… Not you. But-”

“My kind… The colony…” He sat up and looked at you.

“I will not feel guilt for this,”

“I wouldn’t expect a witch to feel guilt about anything. The spoils of the righteous,”

“Eddie,” you whispered, reaching out for him.

He flinched, at first. A darkness settled over him. He was still in absolute.

“The colony – are they your family?” you asked.

“If they are, will you tell your coven to stop the hunt?”

It was the first acknowledgment of both Eddie’s colony and the coven’s hunt for them.

A vampire’s warning always comes in the death of livestock. Vicious killings of cows and lamb. They had been infrequent, not enough to alarm the farmers. The witches wove fact with fiction to keep the peace. It had been three seasons since the first lost sheep.

That is why you weren’t surprised by the vampire when you first crossed paths.

There was a limit to how many animals a witch would let die so brutally. Eddie’s colony had yet to reach it. Likewise, they had not brought harm to any townspeople. Until those conditions were met, the witches only prepared for the hunt. They sharpened their weapons and perfected their spells. They would lay in wait until then.

“There will be no hunting unless-”

“When,” Eddie interrupted. “When they come upon your village like a plague or Pestilence himself in the night, it won’t matter if they are kin.”

Your eyes had welled up. “No,” you agreed as a tear slipped down your cheek. “I will protect the humans.”

Eddie nodded slowly, then took your hand and let you cup his face. He closed his eyes. “Little witch. I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.”

When he took you in his arms, you held on tight, refusing to let him go until the first songs of the morning birds sang misery.

…

1986

“So, I keep trying to call you… Edward… in my head, but it’s not sticking,” you admitted as you checked the temperature of the water in the kettle, putting it back on the stove to reach boiling point. “So, maybe we’ll need that nickname after all,”

“Nickname?”

“Yeah, I mean, you do look like an Edward. But the only people that would go by Edward now are, um, the elderly, and while me and you both technically count… let’s try to keep you as inconspicuous as possible.”

Back inside the trailer, the vampire had sat on the couch, tried his hand at looking normal. It was coming back to him, how to move in this body and how to find his words.

While you mentally added ‘nice tea’ to your ever-growing shopping list, you continued on your train of thought. “But, you’re lucky, because Edward, Ed, Eddie, easy. Take your pick.”

He only took a few seconds. “Eddie,” he decided, waiting on you for approval.

“Eddie…” You looked at him from the kitchen bench, how he was watching you intently. Nodding once you turned away as the kettle whistled.

With your mug of tea warming your palms, you sat on the couch next to Eddie. Pulling your legs up and crossing them, you shuffled around to face him.

“You should go first… Have you remembered anything else?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I… I’ve been here for many, many years,”

“Longer than the humans?”

“No… The humans have always been here. Not as they are now though. They were once… quiet. And they…” Eddie struggled to explain how it used to be. “They have changed the land,”

“They have,” you replied. “They used to know better. They… They know, now. It’s like they’ve forgotten to care.”

Eddie could hear the sadness in your voice. Did he feel empathy… or was it simple recognition? “You love them,” he stated.

“I did once. I don’t know if love is what I would call it anymore. It’s complicated. Do you remember that about witches? That we watch over the humans?”

Eddie’s gaze wandered up and away as he searched through his mind. “Maybe… Yes… That is why we…” As his sentence failed, you saw an expression creep over his features. It was the first time he looked truly vampiric. It wasn’t a smile. It was a knowing smirk. “We are not friends,” Eddie finished, his eyes snapping back to yours suddenly.

“Do you remember what happened to the vampires?” The need to assert yourself as not only a healing witch, but as a dangerous thing too bubbled up in you.

“No,”

“There are no more. Not anywhere on this earth.”

Eddie’s head tilted and his little grin fell. “Vampires cannot be killed,”

“You couldn’t. Not a stake through the heart or even sunlight. But we figured it out,”

“We?”

The tension was rising but you held steady, refusing to feel regret or fear. “Witches spent eons hunting vampires who hunted humans. Covens got so close to working out how to properly kill… them. But it was my coven, here in Hawkins, that did it. It was more than a lifetime ago, but it still feels… recent, I guess.”

Eddie’s stare was unblinking. “Clever witches,” he whispered. “I was… hexed… before that then,”

“Yeah. They would have just killed you otherwise,” you confirmed.

Eddie remembered to blink. He nodded. “And what year is it now?”

“1986.”

There was knowledge stored in his cells. Small pieces of information in his biology, but not much. Just… vampire. Blood. Apex, cannot be killed. Walk by moonlight. Don’t trust a witch. The thought led Eddie to his first question for you.

“Why help me?”

“I… I didn’t know what you were.  I thought you were just an injured bat,”

“But you didn’t stop… helping me. When you knew.”

You opened your mouth to speak but got caught wordless. Shrugging, you shook your head. “I don’t know.”

Eddie wanted to force more out of you. He wanted to know what would possess a witch to resurrect an already defeated enemy. He wanted to know what it felt like to hand over the dog. He wanted to know how often hexes were reversed.

The wetness of your eyes and the shaky breath you were trying to even, they made him settle for an ‘I don’t know.’

“Next question. Do you know about what’s happening here? The evil?”

“It has been here for a long time,” Eddie answered with a slow nod.

You cocked your head. “Have you seen him?”

“Him?”

“Uh, the humans call him Vecna. He’s something else. Not like us,” you told him.

Eddie smiled. “How are we alike?”

“Oh… I guess… I guess we’re not. I meant, he was somehow made, by other humans… But… so are vampires… So was the first vampire,”

“The evil is like me,”

“No. It’s different.” It was getting under your skin, the comparison between Eddie and Vecna. Why though? “I wish I knew more. But whatever doorway was opened, it’s not one witches can see through. All I know is that there is world beyond this one and he hides there. He travels through the mind and has power over people. He’s already killed people and hurt more.”

Eddie thought of the white long-limbed creature with its face of teeth. The monster made of humans, how it snapped and crushed. They had been visible from the sky; he’d tailed the chaos as a bat. Vecna had never shown himself like those things had.

“Where are the witches?” Eddie asked.

“They are… not coming. As far as we can tell, Vecna doesn’t know about us. Or anything supernatural beyond his own world. The coven fears if he discovers it, he’ll either try to drain our power or kill us all. Or both,”

“And what of the humans?”

Despite the questions being entirely valid, you felt interrogated. “They have won before. More than once,”

“And if they fail?”

You sucked in your bottom lip and chewed while you formulated a response. “The coven will intervene… They won’t let him go further than Hawkins,”

“You do not sound convinced,” Eddie observed.

“I will intervene. I will protect the humans.”

Eddie’s instincts told him that witches were steadfast in their conventions. Virtuous and stubborn. Yet, every rule you had, you’d seemed to have already broken or committed to doing so. He couldn’t remember if he was meant to feel. Was he meant to like you, to show preference at all? You were so flawed though and it endeared him to you.

“If it comes to that, I will help you…” He didn't say your name. It didn't feel right on his tongue. There’s something else there though, living on the tip of it. It’s lost. Trapped in the memories your spell couldn’t bring back.

You nodded and gave him a forced smile. Vecna hurt to think about. The children hurt to think about; Erica Sinclair at age eleven.

“Something called me here,” you said suddenly. You were caught off guard by your own admission. “To Hawkins. My coven thinks it’s… not haunted, but something like that. None of us have been back since we left. But when Vecna did what he did, I started to hear it,”

“The calling,”

“Yeah. When prolific events happen, it unsettles everything. What he did to the earth and to his victims… It could have changed something. Let me hear something I couldn’t before.” Part of you was simply thinking out loud, a stream of consciousness that finally had an audience in Eddie. And, an attentive audience at that.

Eddie had relaxed back into the couch like he’d grown up on that very one. Every minute he spent reinhabiting his old body was comfort. He was watching you still, those dark eyes trained on your changing expressions and lively movements.

“When you hear it, does it have a voice?” he asked you.

“Almost? It almost did… Just like there were almost words. But… it was… I don’t know. Like someone else’s thoughts in my head. But it stopped when I got here. I kind of sold this whole thing to myself as following that voice. That it had to mean something. But now it’s gone. And I don’t know if it was him… or…”

“Me,” Eddie finished for you.

You nodded. “But you… you didn’t,”

“I don’t have magic,” he reminded you. “And I was… just a bat,”

“Right,” you said slowly, trying to recognise the emotion on his face. “Just a bat…”

“I owe the voice my gratitude,” Eddie said, dipping his head and smiling. “And, maybe… Vecna… He will rue the day that voice dared to call to this little witch.”

It exploded across Eddie’s body. A prickly warmth that responded to the combination of those two little words. He watched your pupils expand at his words. Your blood smelt rich. Thick. Hot.

It was entirely beyond either of your understanding. What had happened. What was happening. And what hadn’t yet transpired. Yet, for a fleeting moment on the couch of a run down trailer, you and the vampire were of one mind.

End Note: No, it won't be as easy as the unhexing spell bringing back Eddie's memories. And now, there is a looming threat in Vecna that may sidetrack this little witch's mission to turn back time. Thank you for reading. I am frothing at all the predictions of what is going to happen and what is going to be revealed. Some of you are hot and some are cold. xo Rhi

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs

[undermine-the-instinct]

Title: Second Male Lead, Enter!

Cyno x Bard!Reader x Kaveh

Bard!reader masterlist • Continuation of this Wc: 5.7K. Warnings: None (unedited)

Tags(?): Reader was born in Monstadt, and was a part of the Knights of Favonius, for future reference. Gender neutral reader.

The lyrics used are from a song called Van Horn by Saint Motel

Thank the Archons, you were born in Monstadt. Monstadt has winding paths and steep hills, wide valleys that stretch as far as the eye can see, so you're used to walking a great distance without losing your breath. When you had trained as a Knight Of Favonius you would often run laps around your beloved home till your legs wobbled like jello, and then force yourself to run the trek back.

All that training paid off, because you are hauling ass, and the General Mahamatra is right behind yours.

Oh fuck he's fast.

Okay okay, you got a little ahead of yourself today. But you get tired of only playing your music quietly in whatever little room you're renting, or for whoever decides to hide you for the night (you're pretty sure he knows you change places often).

So you started playing in some courtyard. And…. Maybe your song of choice was a bit too on the nose? You saw him striding along angrily and he almost looked like he was pouting. So you opened your stupid mouth and sang the first thing that came to mind:

Well tell me do you hate me, or do you wanna date me?

It's kinda hard to tell cause your eyes are looking crazy

So why you come on over, anything but sober

Looking like it's time tonight for fight or flight in Van Horn.

You had chosen Flight. He had shot out of the crowd like a bat from hell and you hightailed it out of there.

That's where you're at currently.

Stick to crowds, stick to crowds. Drifting tight corners is your specialty damn it, use it!!

You drift around the corners and through the courtyards, and your grin is shaking from both adrenaline and fear. You think for a moment that you should try to use your vision, but Pyro wouldn't bode well with all this greenery. You don't want to be charged with arson also.

You've been caught and sent to precincts and holding cells for days at a time, you don't want to stay any longer than you have to.

People catch the spectacle, and children cheer while their parents hush them with hidden smiles. You hop over stalls and people actually move some of their carts when they see you rushing forwards, subtly going back to their work (and blocking the General, oh Archons this place is awesome.)

A full bearded man at a food stall even holds out some sort of bun, wrapped in cloth when you run by, and you grab it, yelling out a 'Thank you!', because you can't stop. You don't want to accidentally bite your tongue off trying to eat this thing either so you put it in your satchel.

There isn't any place this man wouldn't chase you. But if you can find a place to hide, you can lose him, then wait it out till he has to attend to his other duties. You've done this song and dance before. Pun intended.

You don't mean to bump into a man while dashing into an alleyway though.

Your face goes 'smoosh' into the open plane of his chest, (his skin is really soft), and he yells in shock while you fall. Kinda a second too late he reaches out to catch you and you both tumble to the ground. At least your head doesn't hit the ground.

"What the…? Archons, are you alright?!" He reaches out a hand to help you rise. His fingers are calloused, but pretty.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry for bumping into you."

"No need, it was my fault for being in the way." While he talks you look around you frantically, knowing you're losing precious time and ground. He notices your anxiety and tilts his head a little down to match your height.

"Are you alright? You're looking a little nervous there?"

"Yeah, sorry, kinda freaking out. I'm getting chased by the General Mahamatra."

"The what now?" His face blanks, and he is blocking your way.

"Might have heard of me, the bard from Monstadt, the one making a huge ruckus in Sumeru? Yeah, that's me, can you please move- Oh shizz—"

You hear the commotion behind you and you know you only have a few moments before he gets to you. The man's ruby eyes light up, and can he move already–

He grabs your hand and pulls you into the alleyway. You think to pull your hand away, but he's fast though, and he's going in the direction that you were heading anyways, which is away, so you let him pull you along.

"I have heard of you!" He calls back. "I've been wanting to meet you!" He's a pretty shade of blonde, pretty in general. He looks expensive too, with the tailored silk he wears and the intricate earrings.

"I'm Kaveh. You are?"

"Wondering where you're taking me!" What happened to not allowing yourself to be led to a second location? Technically this was the first but whatever–

"Don't worry. It's a place that I'm sure he can't get to you, not without clearance at least."

You two runalong, and you don't hear any footsteps behind you, which doesn't really soothe your nerves. He can be quiet when he needs to. But you two run, and eventually he leads you to a building that looks fairly new. He leads you through the back door, and up two flights of stairs to a sort of sitting room, yelling out greetings to the other people who call out his name.

This room has full couches and low tables and giant, fluffy looking pillows to lounge on. There are blueprints on the tables and half a model of a building on another. There are windows lining the wall, but this room is towards the back of the building, so all you see when you look out is a shadowed alleyway leading to the backs of other buildings.

Kaveh sighs when he enters and lets your wrist go.

"Sorry for dragging you all the way here. I might have gotten a bit ahead of myself."

"What is this place?"

"It's an Architects guild. There aren't very many in Sumeru, and even if he knows of this one, he can't get in."

"No?"

"No. The General Mahamatra has clearance to enter any government owned building. This building has been bought and renovated by the guild's hands, so he would need a warrant to enter." He waves you in and gestures for you to sit. You do so, sinking into a seat and grabbing a pillow to hold.

"I wasn't going out of my way to find you, but it's fortunate I have the chance to talk to you now.

"Many people are intrigued by you."

"I'm nothing special. It's all the ruckus that's been left in my wake that's interesting."

"I don't think a person the General Mahamatra has been sent after is nothing special.

"Bard, tell me, what brings you so far from home? I can tell you're not from here."

Hm, well, he did kind of just save you. You can indulge him a little. "I had a wanderlust. Spent a lot of time in Liyue, Inazuma was pretty interesting. I spent most of my time with a felon running from the Shogunate, whom I met on a pirate ship."

"How fascinating. So you're from Monstadt?" He frames it as a question and you nod. He reaches for a pitcher and pours you both a glass of wine. His hand is warm when he gives it to you.

"Honestly, I had hoped I would get to meet you soon, but with the General Mahamatra after you, I thought the chances were slim."

"You really wanted to meet me?" He nods, reclining in his seat.

"And today was my lucky break! The effect you've had on Sumeru as a whole is astounding. It shows the disparity between the ideal Sumeru the Sages try to project and the true reality that is the people's lives." He drains his cup in a few gulps.

"It's lifeless and droll, what they push for. The path of an erudite is honorable and all, but their blatant hatred for the arts, how do they live with themselves? Art is everywhere, art is essential. Art is food for the heart and soul."

"That's what I'm saying!!" You bounce in your seat with shock and excitement. Is it true? Finally, someone you can talk to about this?!

"It's a means for human expression! Even before people learned to read and write we had songs to sing. So many archeological finds are statues and art of past civilizations, we learn about past cultures from the stories they told, ancient paintings in tombs or cave walls." He's nodding eagerly along to what you're saying, earrings swinging.

"Exactly. You can't escape art, you can't escape the divine act of creation! Our jewelry, the way we dress, the way we talk, how we build and decorate our homes, how we work, eat, it's all an artform! A romance unto itself!"

"Yes. When you hold yourself above the arts, you're basically proclaiming yourself above mortal….well, mortality. Joy. Culture. I think it's Ironic how the Sages worship the late Greater Lord Rukkedevahta, when she herself was close friends with the Goddess of Flowers. Whose dance was so graceful she made the pardisarahs bloom."

"A flower the Greater Lord dedicated her friend to. They've worked hard to try and erase her importance from the text books," he grumbles, "as well as the role of the Scarlet King. I can only imagine what they've gotten rid of in all these centuries past." You both sigh at the same time, and grin at each other in amusement. You curl your legs underneath you, a little bashful.

"I haven't seen many people in Sumeru as enthused on this matter as you are."

"Alas, it is both a curse and blessing."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. I am an architect, art is a necessity for my creations, my work depends on creativity. But that also deems me as frivolous, people are less likely to take my word in other matters. My roommate calls me over emotional and tedious. But I'm not the one frittering away my income on horrible art decor. I swear he does it just to spite me."

You laugh. "You two sound close."

"Frenemies, you could say, I swear he lives to aggravate me. He always wants to take my keys, and he likes to frame it as an accident even if we both know he does it on purpose, and then lock me out of the house!!"

"Uh-huh."

"And I'm the one stuck doing all the housework! I've never seen that man so much as wash a dish or pick up a duster. Do you know how exhausting it is to be the only one to do housework around the place?"

You sip from your cup. "Very exhausting."

"Yes. And that attitude of his. You know what he's like? He believes that art exists solely for commercial exchange, that art is a revenue to be exploited and holds no other value. That the day that value has been exploited is the day all its value ceases to exist." At this you gasp.

"Are you serious? No, you're kidding."

He rolls his eyes. "'Can the production of anything exist without commercial exchange?'. The bastard."

"That sounds horrible. Art isn't meant to be exploited or capitalized on. What kind of of mindset is that?"

"The wrong one. People like that drain the joy out of every golden bleeding day." He sighs again with a wave of his hand, like brushing away the current topic.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" His vision, dendro, jingles as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

"What kind of friends have you made while in our great nation?" You laugh a little, watch your reflection distort when you swirl the contents of your glass.

"Friends? I have none. It is known throughout Sumeru that the Sages detest me. They have sent their General after me. Sumeru craves a spectacle but one they can watch, and not be blinded by." You drink, if only to give yourself pause.

"They might make way for me if they see me dashing away from the authorities, like earlier, but they would not house me or aid me if I'm injured. Some establishments have banned me so it's hard to find work to feed or support myself, but I make due with odd late night shift jobs."

"Hm. I heard a rumor that you were good friends with Miss Nilou of the theater."

"Miss Nilou is a lovely person, but even still, she won't put the theater in jeopardy by associating with me. It's the smart thing to do.

"My 'friends' are usually the outcasts of society. The drunks and the dropouts and despondents. Even then. They're not my friends since they're more likely to sell me out or stab me in the back for some mora or attention."

"What if I said I wanted to be your friend? Would I be considered a fool?" He dramatically puts a hand to his chest, a smile on his face.

You look him up and down. "You just helped me escape from the General. I'd call you less than bright."

"I'll have you know that I am considered the Light of the Kshahrewar." He huffs, affronted but not really. He smiles wider when you chuckle.

"It's awfully droll being surrounded by people with no appreciation for anything beautiful or lovely. Technically, you haven't broken any true laws, but the Sages are afraid of the influence you have." He waves a hand.

"I don't care for any of that. You're a peach and I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'm a peach?" You ask, confused yet amused.

"Yes!" He laughs. "You've been nothing but delightful so far. I'd like to get to know you better."

Well, it would be nice to make merry with someone you don't have to fear will rob you in your sleep, or rat you out. He did just help you hide. He's a good conversationalist, and he appreciates art as well as you do.

"You know what? I'm too endeared for my own good. I would like to be your friend Kaveh." You reach out a hand and he takes it, pressing a kiss to the back as if he were a knight.

"Splendid. This deserves a toast!" He refills both your cups and you clink them together. It settles down warm in your belly. Monstadt wine is always better though, slides down your throat like honey and settles in hotter. This is still good though and you tell him as much.

"My roommate is the one who bought this. Apparently he ordered several crates of the stuff, and I figured not to let it go to waste by letting him drink it all and ruin his kidneys."

"Crates?"

"Yes, crates. Around ten of them. He's quite the alcoholic."

"Depends on how fast he drinks it. In Monstadt you'd share that among friends and it would be gone in a mere day."

"Goodness, now two of my friends are alcoholics."

"You seem like one to talk."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

You go on to talk more, about music, architecture, the sages, and the conversation flows smoothly. You find yourself relaxing, it's been weeks since you really had a proper conversation with anyone. Maybe the General counted, but really all you do is throw quips back at him and flee.

Well, you flirt with him a little too, but it's mainly in jest. You want to see that stoicism of his crumble. He can capture you and put you in holding for weeks at a time, but it's still cute to see that little blush he gets when you get too close to him or when your lyrics get risqué.

Then suddenly, you hear a rumble that cuts the conversation off, and look over at Kaveh. He puts his hand over his stomach with a half mortified look.

"Please don't mind me."

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine."

"I have a bun if you want."

"I'll be fine. I…gave up my lunch to a couple desert foxes earlier."

"Oh no, were you bombarded?" You ask, laughing. They are cute.

"I couldn't resist, they had me surrounded! Then I bought flowers from a stall two children were running so I'm broke. I'll eat something later." Okay, that's adorable. You take out the wrapped bun from your satchel, and it's still warm.

"Take it."

"It's fine."

"Take it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's hard enough for you to find good housing, right? So I'm sure it's hard to find any restaurants willing to let you order or eat in. You eat it."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry." Your stomach betrays you by letting out a growl, long and embarrassing. He gives you a look.

"...Then we'll split it." You do promptly just that, and give him the bigger half despite his complaints.

It's a stuffed pork bun. It's good. You really were hungry.

You have to buy more strings for your lyre and your guitar, just in case. And you had a tear in your cloak, so you'd need a needle and thread. It wasn't too bad, and If it was you could use one of your spare shirts if you needed extra fabric.

There were lots of plaza's and courtyards and markets here, compared to monstadt. The only place that might compete was Liyue, but you weren't there long, and there were lots of seats and benches to sit. Not here. Get where you're going and stop loitering. The ground was flat and smooth though, not high cobbled streets or grasslands, so you don't mind. All this to say you might need to buy another pair of shoes with the extreme amount of walking and running you've been doing.

And probably waterproof cases. And clothes with waterproof pockets and lining. You had to jump into the waters of Port Ormos to escape from Cyno once and your flute was never the same.

Where were you going to get the money for this?

Your musings are interrupted again when you hear a weird sound, and look up to see Kaveh choking.

You stand and refill his wine with the recanter, lifting a eyebrow.

"Something strange cross your mind?"

"Uh, no, nothing like that." He flounders after he drains his cup.

"Just caught off guard. Listen, I'm, uh, I'm not kicking you out, but I think you should hurry."

"Oh? Why?" He's leaning a little back in his seat, outside the window's view. You're helping to block him a little.

"Because the General Mahamatra is looking right into this window." You choke a little on your bun, and sneak a peek out the window.

What the actual fuck.

He just, standing there. Menacingly. You're barely peaking your head out, but you two lock eyes immediately and you flinch back. You dont drop the stare. It's heavy enough that if you did, you fear it would land on your foot and break it.

"You said he can't get to me here?"

"Not unless he has a warrant."

"He's the General, doesn't he like, have an automatic pass?"

"I don't think so…?" Lightning starts crackling along his form and your heart rate elevates, you start making sure you have everything. You down the rest of the wine and stuff the bun into your mouth. You almost choke.

"He'll try staking out or scaling the building if I stay any longer."

"Really? It's that serious?"

"He's done it before." You shiver. He scaled up a building with those lightning hand things of his before and pulled himself through the window to get to you. You thought your judgment day had come for you then, but you had managed to wriggle out an escape, thank goodness. Yeah, you have everything.

You turn to your new friend with a grin, and hope that there's nothing in your teeth.

"Well, Kaveh, friend of mine, thank you for the wine and the convo. Guess I'll see you when I see you?"

"Of course, hopefully soon?"

"We'll see!" He gets up, wiping his hands on his knees.

"Then we leave it to fate. Where are you going to go now?"

"If I can make it out I can lose him in the districts, or head underground and lose him there."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Yep! So, I'm gonna jump out the window now, so don't panic." You learned your lesson the first time you did that, the matron of the bar had screamed and it brought too much attention to your escape. People are so nosy here.

"Keep inside so that he can't completely see your face, okay?"

"You're not serious? We're two stories up and he's right there." You climb onto the ledge and perch there.

"Well I'm not jumping down towards him silly. Bye-bye." You wave your fingers.

"Wait wait, hey!!" You jump out of the window, several windows next to the one the General stood under, without any fanfare.

Another good thing about Monstadt; You're used to falling from heights. Two stories is nothing, so you fall fast, hit the ground hard and roll, ignoring the sting in your ankles and feet. You run.

But, due to the sting and height you fell from, you're not very fast initially and about a dozen alleyways later, (you got farther at least) you feel a rough hand grab onto your shoulder and slam you into a wall. Ouch. Oh well.

You bite back your cry of pain when you catch the gleam in his eyes, almost triumphant, you would say.

"Caught you."

You scoff, and try to ignore the way his fingers dig into your shoulder. "Please. You really think you have me?"

"Where do you see yourself getting out of this? How do you see yourself escaping?"

"A multitude of ways, actually."

He frowns deeper, his mouth a flat pressed line."Tsk. Smart mouth." You sigh, making sure the air blows over his face. Pork bun breath.

"Where did you even come from? I was singing and I saw you. Then you suddenly just shot through the crowd."

"I was following you from when you left the inn. I had a feeling you'd try something. I was right."

Damn. Looks like that place is compromised. You'll have to find another one, secretly and soon. You'll probably sleep outside tonight.

You put your hands to your face like a scandalized maiden.

"You were stalking me? You even know where I'm staying? Oh my, I never dealt with this kind of situation with a fan before…You know I don't like you like that, right?" He rolls his eyes at your display, the way you make your eyes soft and wide.

"Stop it. I'm not your fan."

"If you'd come to one of my performances for real–"

"No. They're unsanctioned."

"But if they were–"

"They won't be. No."

"You didn't deny that you were stalking me though." He doesn't say anything as rebuttal and you grin, leaning back against the wall like you weren't being held there. Looks like you're going back to a precinct for a couple of days. At least you wouldn't have to worry about where you're sleeping tonight. Or tomorrow.

His frown deepens. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Acting like that."

"Acting like what, Cyno? You got me. Do whatever you're gonna do to me." You make your voice lower, smoother, and you know he notices, because he just keeps looking angrier and angrier.

"It's not a joke."

"It's not."

"You're under arrest."

"You're all up in my space, of course I know that." You chuckle. You lean a bit closer and yeah, he's blushing a little.

"You'll be taken to court to be judged by the sages."

….Well. What a shock.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"For all the trouble you've been making."

"To Court? On what grounds?"

"The Sages–"

"My crimes could only be labeled as a Violation, which would result in a fine or community service, or up to fifteen days in jail. Which I've been doing. Why would I get a trial for a Violation?"

"Because your crimes are listed as a Class B Misdemeanor. The Sages have decided to be more involved in court cases and jail sentencing recently. With their interest in you it's understandable they want to be involved in your sentencing."

"Hah!" You laugh. "And I bet you've been busy too, rounding up people to lock behind bars."

"They are people who have broken the law in the most severe senses.They have to be dealt with."

"Let me guess, people who tried selling research or contraband, thieves? People charged with armed or aggravated assault or disorderly conduct? Okay, I can understand them paying for their crimes, but even I have noticed how the Sages always label them as felons and just throw them in jail for longer than their sentences should allow." You sneer.

"And that's if they can get a fair sentence."

"Should we, the system, force these convicts into redemption? No, we can't, that is only something that one has to work for. Self reflection is the same; they must reflect on their own transgressions. They could only do so if they regret their actions."

"They can't reflect if they are worried about survival. If the system basically makes it damn near impossible to redeem themselves they're not going to try."

"Do you know what kinds of people you're defending? Do you think these people want to be redeemed?" He suddenly hisses. He presses in close to your face and you feel your skin prickle.

"What kinds of people do you think I am sent after? You think those kinds of people spend their allotted time reflecting? Do you think they care or regret what they've done? You think they wouldn't do it again in a heartbeat?" You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

"Because they would. Because these people don't care about the consequences. About how many people would be harmed or dragged into their mess. I'm not sent after petty thieves and criminals. Wayward researchers are common but not the bulk of my arrests. The students of the Akemdemiya might have spread my name, but don't let it slip your mind that I am the General. I wage war. Not petty battles."

You two stand off for a moment. His normally blank eyes, back-lit by lightning, are alive, red hot, pupils dilated. The corners of his mouth tremble. You wonder what he sees in your face.

You tilt your head. "Then why are you chasing after me?" He gives a barely perceptible flinch, but doesn't back up.

"Because, even if the Sage's judgements are cruel sometimes, it's all for the better good of Sumeru. As long as that is their ideal, I will stand guard by it."

Disappointment is heavy and sour on your tongue. For some reason…you expected better. Maybe it's the Knight in you, Monstadt and the fire of your vision, Freedom and revolution, a song in your breast. But a system that condemns its people unfairly is one you would want to undermine.

One you would want to burn down.

"I asked you a while ago whether you felt if the law was just, or upholding the law was just. You answered me wrong back then." Cyno sneers a little, derisively.

"Well, what would you know?"

"Oh Cyno," you shake your head in pity, however little of it you feel for him. Young, naive boy. "You're such a fucking idiot."

You snake a hand to his nape, and yank him close for a kiss.

He gasps in shock at your movements, but that just lets you deepen the kiss, pulling him closer till his body is pressed against yours. You feel the stutter of his chest, his eye lashes blinking rapidly against your skin, his hand trembling on your shoulder.

But he doesn't pull away.

It's only a moment of shock before you feel his lids close, and he's kissing you back. His lips are a little chapped, but the scrape of them against yours is delicious, and you shiver against him. Just to feel his hands panic before he settles them on the slope of your hips. He's shivering, shoulders jumping.

You pull back and just brush your mouth against his, drawing small circles just below the nape of his hairline.

"What are you doing?" He stutters, you lick the seam of his mouth and smile when he gasps again.

"Do you want me to stop?" Why do you ask? You know your answer. It's in the way his hands grow firmer and he doesn't stop you when you nudge him with your forehead, back into a kiss.

This time it's him who pushes against you. He's clumsy but eager, a little messy; he misses your lips a few times and presses his mouth to a lip, your cheek, your chin, your jaw. You giggle when his lips press to the space underneath your earlobe, and sigh when he travels down. His shoulders tremble under your hands, while you nudge his cheek and guide his lips back to yours.

You tilt your face to deepen the kiss, and draw your leg up, hips aligned. Only now does he let out a punched out gasp, and pushes himself away from you.

His face is flush and his mouth dark and red, shiny with spit. He breathes heavily, and stares at you like you've grown a second head, a nightmare realized. You just smile prettily at him, a little quizzically. It dawns on you quickly though.

"... Cyno, was that your first kiss?" He's acting like it was, face both livid and bashful, and just plain adorable. His face darkens and he takes another step back from you.

"Oh what the…" you both swivel around, to find a young boy in the alleyway with you. Probably on an errand, he looks barely thirteen you'd say, and he stares at you two shell-shocked, a crate in his arms. His wide eyes jump back and forth between the two of you.

"....You didn't see anything, boy." Cyno hisses, and the boy nods amicably.

"You're right, of course I didn't. Now that last sentence I heard though…" Well, that's your cue. You turn, with a quick prayer to Celestia, and dash the hell out of there, a giggle on your lips.

He doesn't chase after you. You go blocks and blocks without any indication otherwise.

That was nice. Really nice. He was gonna kill you. You should really stop messing with that general.

——————

Kaveh has been in an especially good mood lately.

Barely two weeks ago he was bemoaning and whining about completing a project he felt stuck on, now he's drafting blueprints and models, hammering away throughout the night (he's had to wear his soundproof headphones to bed for days now) and furiously scribbling away in his notebook any spare second. He doesn't even rise to his barbs when Al Haitham pokes at him, which is odd.

Alright, that's a lie, he just doesn't get as annoyed.

Luckily he's still willing to overshare to anyone with half an ear that could listen, so it's easy enough to figure out why he's been in such a jolly mood.

"You're friends, with the Bard?"

"Yes! They're fascinating, mind you, I've barely known them for a few weeks but the creativity!! That flows through my head with each interaction is amazing!"

"So you're using a felon as creative inspiration." He scowls like he predicted.

"It's normal for friends to bounce ideas off of each other and inspire each other. If you weren't such a recluse you would know."

"I don't need help with finishing any of my assignments. If you had a little more sense you wouldn't associate yourself with a criminal." He gives his roommate a side eye.

"Knowing how work is going, I assume you'd take more caution with the people you associate with."

"They're not a Felon. A criminal, technically, yes. It's known throughout Sumeru now how much they're hated by the Sages for their performances. They're trying to have the people ostracize them because of that." He's wearing a new hair accessory that he fiddles with, not looking up from his mess on the table.

"And let me guess, they've charmed and endeared the people so, so that is no longer a viable option."

"Yes, exactly. I bailed them out of a precinct four days ago, you should have seen! They were teaching the rest of the inmates some Monstadt tune and it seemed the guards were allowing it, at least until I came in. They started serenading me too as soon as they unlocked their gate." He grins, dopey, and Al Haitham raises an eyebrow at the behavior.

"I've never met someone so unabashedly free spirited, it's so lovely!"

"I've heard that the Sages are growing increasingly frustrated with the fact that The General Mahamatra can't seem to pin them down."

"They know the law," Kaveh shrugs.

"So they're staying low right now to hopefully blow over some steam. They might get an actual sentence if they keep on, so they're looking for some work now. No more performances."

"Hm." Kaveh turnt back to his work and Al Haitham drew away, pondering.

Of course he's heard of you, and with his station he's heard more than just the rumors of the Sages' hatred of you; he's seen and heard it firsthand.

People in the Akademiya are too terrified to even mention your existence for fear of upsetting, not the sages, with their distant judgment and contempt, but the General Mahamatra.

People know when he was sent after you, because those days are the ones where the jackal is more likely to snap at people. The students are more mortified and studious than ever while he storms the halls like a nimbus cloud, dark and crackling.

He's also most likely to shut himself in his office for hours upon hours, and it's only in the late hours, when Al haitham finally decides to head back to his place, is when he sees the young general leave his office. A haunted look hangs in his eyes.

You obviously have some sort of effect, or insane luck, to escape the General so often. Of course he can catch you and throw you in a cell for a few days, it's been done before. But he's hunted and caught greater people for lesser crimes, and you somehow keep getting away with yours.

He just might have to meet up with you soon. Just to see what all the hype is about.

[urfavstargirl1]

the darkest night - part 1 of 3

summary: 12 year old reader searches the woods for best friend!eddie who hasn't been at school in weeks. After finding him and learning the true reason for his absence, she comforts him and by nightfall, their relationship takes a new turn

cw: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, kissing, trauma (mentions of Eddie's dad going to jail), cursing, etc.,

a/n: absolutely had a lucky strike of inspiration from the song lyric shown below. I contemplated making this all one piece or a mini series and my impatient self wanted to already post it even tho im not done so mini series it is.

word count: 3.4k

The darkest night, never felt so bright with you by my side, 5 Seconds of Summer

May 19th, 1978

With every step you took, you could feel the dense earth soften beneath your feet. Stray leaves fell from the trees with every gust of that warm, almost summer, breeze. 

When you left your house, the sun shone brightly, beating down your back as you pedaled down the streets of your hometown, Hawkins, Indiana. 

After passing through your best friend Eddie’s neighborhood and later, his uncle’s trailer at the Forest Hills Trailer Park, searching for your beloved friend, you almost cursed him for practically sending you on some scavenger hunt and a tour of Hawkin’s greatest hits when he wasn’t at either place.

But you were determined to find him. And any sense of frustration at your prior luck seemed to dissipate as the shadow of the forest beyond the Hawkins National Lab protected you from that powerful celestial being of the sun above.

“Eddie,” you called out.

You trudged between the trees, pushing your bike alongside you, scanning the surrounding area.

“Eddie, where are you?"

The bird chirped from their spot perched in the trees overhead.

"It’s me, your best friend in the whole world, Y/N. Wherever you are, please come out, Eddie,” you yelled intermittently as you followed the trail of the old abandoned train tracks.

You took out your trusty compass and followed the path just south of Lover’s Lake. It felt like your little twelve year old legs had been walking for miles. God only knows how big this midwestern haven could span.

But after a while, you started losing patience. Where was he?

“Eddie, this is the worst game of hide and seek we’ve ever played. And besides, we’re too old for that shit,” you exclaimed.

Even alone in the middle of the forest, a small alarm sounded in the back of your head. If your parents heard you say such a word, you would be in big trouble. Good thing it was just you. 

“Eddie, you little shit,” you humphed as you approached the massive boulder the town seemed to agree on calling Skull Rock.

“Eddie, I swear to god if you–” You frustratedly said under your breath as you turned to the other side of the rock, and almost tripped on a pile of… Eddie Munson and his backpack?

“Eddie,” you gasped and looked down at him. His head hung down and his gaze was cast somewhere in the nearby distance, as if the pile of leaves a few feet away were that captivating.

“Eddie,” you dropped down to your knees, “Where the hell have you been?”

You instinctively wrap your arms around his stiff body, engulfing him in the tightest hug humanly possible. You held him like that for a few moments, softening your grip as any anger at having spent the whole day looking for him dissipated.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you whispered into his neck, feeling the pricking of buzzed hair at his scalp against your skin.

You pulled away slightly, if just for a moment, to see his face. His chin was turned down and he avoided your gaze. For a split second, he bit his lip and looked up at you, frazzled and afraid.

You didn’t say anything. You just returned to your position with your head in the crook of his neck.

As you held him, neither of you said anything. All you can hear is the deep breath he takes, inhaling the comforting scent of your hair.

He slowly slithers his arms around you and holds you back, increasing the tightness of his hold till you can feel him holding on for dear life.

If something wasn’t wrong before, you could absolutely tell it was now.  

“Eddie,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, wanting to look at him face to face again.

“Hmph,” he grunts under his breath as he tightens his hold on you, not letting you get away so fast.

So you sit there and hold him. The sounds of birds chirping and the two of you breathing the other in, audible in the air. You stroke his head, with hair buzzed short, or rub circles along his back.

You’ve never seen Eddie like this. If you weren’t so worried, you might even be afraid.

“Eddie,” you softly ask after minutes of silence. “What happened to you?”

You can feel him shake his head next to yours.

“Eddie, I need you to talk to me okay?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I just want to know what happened.”

He shakes his head again.

“Please, Eddie,” you whisper and furrow your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the slow and steady stream of hot tears beginning to flow down your cheeks.

“Why weren’t you at school all week? And why are there a bunch of reporters at your house and your uncle’s trailer?”

Eddie winces and makes a noise signaling pain. But then he begins to feel the warm wet tears on your cheek smear into the skin of his neck and pulls away slightly.

He looks at you incredulously, in shock to see you cry over him.

You take a moment to look him in the eye. His big brown eyes are red and slightly puffy. He sniffles and you smile at him painfully.

“It’s bad,” he whispers and looks away.

You grab his hand and give it a tender squeeze. You don’t expect him to say too much after that. Even though it doesn’t satisfy your curiosity, you wanted an answer and he gave you one. He doesn’t seem well enough to do much more than that.

So you nod and look at him.  

“Really bad,” he adds under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, at least hoping he might be able to tell you when he’s ready.

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a while, but you continue to gently touch him by rubbing circles along his back or squeezing his left hand which hasn’t let go of yours since you first grabbed it.

“Who do I have to fight?” You asked, finally breaking the peaceful albeit confusing silence.

“What,” Eddie grumbles into your neck. You pull away and find a small smile on his perplexed face.

“Who do I have to fight? Whoever it is that made you feel this way, tell me their address so I can go and give them a piece of my mind. No one messes with my best friend and gets away with it,” you explained triumphantly. 

“Silly girl,” Eddie chuckles as he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m serious Eds. I’ll call backup too.”

“What? You and Raggedy Ann and Andy gonna take on the man?” Eddie asks sarcastically as he absentmindedly drags his fingers along either side of your arm.

“Eddie,” you scoffed as you lightly smacked him in the chest. You made a show of looking around, as if there was someone to hide from, “I told you that in secret.”

Eddie giggles at your reaction, always loving the way he could push your buttons like teasing you about still playing with dolls. Any other moment it would have annoyed you, but now, it puts the biggest smile on your face.

“But if it comes down to it, then yes. We’ll do whatever it takes to fight for justice.”

Eddie’s hands fell defeatedly to your thighs and for some reason it made a weird shiver go down your spine. Before you could even think about why it happened or what it meant, a hardened look fell upon Eddie’s face.

“No need, sweetheart,” Eddie said tensely. 

Even though Eddie was your best friend, he sometimes called you “sweetheart”. He almost always only used it as a joke. Like if you said something goofy or made fun of him back, he’d say something like “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say sweetheart.”

Sometimes the other kids at school would hear you two talk to each other like that. A lot of them would ask if you two were dating. You could have sworn that even some of the teachers started to think so too because they would sit you two next to each other in class.

Even though it wasn’t true, because Eddie was just your best friend, you didn’t mind the special treatment from your teachers.

Otherwise, you had never really given much thought to the name before. It was just one of Eddie’s signature quirks.

But the way he says it now feels strange. There’s more weight to it. The way he says it. The way it feels in your chest when you hear him call you that. It’s all sort of different now.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t think Raggedy Ann and Andy have the power to defeat the darkness that is the Hawkins Police, or worse, my dad,” Eddie says as though he’s just told a hilarious joke.

Your head jerks back slightly from his abrasive words and casual tone. Eddie’s dad? And the police? What happened?

“What? Didn’t you hear, sweetheart?” Eddie grins at you in a way that makes your insides crawl. “Daddy’s dancin’ to the jailhouse rock.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together. Eddie wasn’t making any sense. His dad? Jail? And yet the thinly veiled Elvis reference wasn’t even the most surprising part.

“Your dad’s going to jail?” You say when the pieces finally come together.

Eddie never really had any great stories to tell about his dad. They had a… different kind of father-son relationship. Eddie once told her that he’d wished his dad could have taught him how to fish or play catch instead of teaching him how to hotwire a car.

“Looks like the cats out of the bag,” Eddie says with such casual confidence.

“Eddie, I don’t understand,” you grab his shoulders and try to find some sort of understanding just from the look in his eyes.

“Looks like little Eddie Munson’s an orphan now,” Eddie shrugs, still mysteriously smiling.

“Eddie, don’t say that,” you whine as you throw yourself against him in another bear hug. You don’t understand how he’s being so calm and casual about this right now. Or how he could make jokes at a time like this.

“It’s true,” he whispers as he gently tightens his grip around you.

“What about your Uncle Wayne? You could stay with him, right?”

Eddie loved his Uncle Wayne. He’d constantly tell you about the movie marathons in his trailer or the memories of Wayne taking him and his mom to Benny's Burgers on Sundays.

“Yeah, I moved in yesterday.”

You pull away and look into his puffy eyes. The brown of his irises a pool of pain and longing. Too much for any twelve year old boy to handle.

But that explains why Eddie’s been gone. 

Your parents watched the 6:00 news at dinner every night. They started talking about some high profile criminal case but with not many details able to be released just yet. You were sure Eddie and his family would make breaking news tonight.

“What do you say we just run away?” You asked.

Eddie scoffs, “Yeah? And go where?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Anywhere.”

Eddie took a moment to think about it before saying, “Let’s go to London.”

“London? Why London?”

“It’s far enough away from here,” Eddie sneers.

“It wouldn’t be because it’s home to all your favorite bands, is it?” You ask teasingly.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be in the home of the greatest rockstars to ever live,” Eddie says giddily.

You giggle and extend your pinky finger out, “Okay, pinky promise?”

Eddie smiles at you warmly. For the first time all day, he looks happy. He hooks his pinky finger around yours and says, “Pinky promise”.

You and Eddie continue to hang around his favorite hiding spot, Skull Rock, for a little while longer before heading back to his uncle’s trailer and your home before dark. 

When you get home, your parents engulf you in a hug and wail about your absence. 

“Where have you been?”

“We’ve been worried sick?”

“Don’t you ever leave without telling us where you’re going again!”

“We heard about what happened with that Munson boy?”

“It’s not safe for you to be out with him!”

But after a while it all just turned to noise.

You made it home safe and sound. No one got hurt. What were they so worked up about?

And you didn’t understand why they would say things like that. They had known Eddie for years now. He’s the same boy he always was. Eddie wasn’t the one who did the crime, so why was he getting punished?

The thought of all that happened that day kept you well up into the night. As you stared up at your ceiling, you couldn’t help but wonder about Eddie.

What was he doing? Was he sad that his dad was going to jail? Was he relieved to at least be with his Uncle Wayne? You bet he misses his mom now more than ever.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You turn your head toward the window and climb out of bed, your cotton night dress swooshing as you walk over to it.

You draw the curtains and look out the window to find Eddie down on the front lawn. He mouths something, but it’s too dark and he’s too far away to really see.

But you know what it is. This isn’t the first time Eddie’s done this. 

You see him climbing along the side of your house and up to the second story. You open the window when you see his figure come closer.

“Eddie, it’s one o’clock in the morning,” you whisper as he climbs through the window. He enters the room and stands before you. The streetlights outside illuminating his pale skin, white t-shirt, and plaid pajama pants.

“I know, I couldn’t sleep,” Eddie smiles at you, replying in a voice much louder than a whisper.

“Eddie shh!” You shush him and turn over your shoulder, worried the noise might wake your parents.

Eddie’s smile drops and you frown. 

“I know, I’m tired but I couldn’t sleep either,” you say as you wrap your arms around him. His muscles relax and he returns the gesture. 

“What’s keeping you up?” Eddie asked. Obviously the weight of the week’s events were heavy on his mind, but what could be on yours?

“I’ve been thinking about you. Worrying and hoping you’re okay,” you replied earnestly. There was nothing you had to hide. Not from him.

Eddie pulled away and looked at you incredulously. Stunned to think anyone could care enough to lose sleep over him. 

“C’mon,” you sleepily jerked your head to the side in the direction of your full size bed. It was about the same size as the bed in Wayne’s trailer. It’s funny how he had never really made that connection till now.

You don’t say a word as you pull back the covers and climb into the warm bed with soft pillows. You even make a show of scooting your Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls over for him. 

“Can you put those away,” Eddie cautiously asks as he hesitantly walks over to the other side of the bed, “I feel like they’re watching me.”

You roll your eyes and get up to put them in your closet. For a boy who loves scary movies, he sure does have a weird fear of dolls. Not that you would ever understand since you were too afraid to watch said movies with him.

You make your way back to the bed and see Eddie kicking off his shoes and moving to lie down with you. You get under the cover and he does the same. You face each other and in your borderline sleepy state, you smile at him, feeling much more at ease with him here.

“Does Wayne know you’re here?” You asked.

The few times Eddie’s gone to your house like this was usually when his dad was on one and Wayne was out at work.

“No, he’s got the night shift.”

“Oh,” you reply. You wonder if Eddie felt scared being in that home all alone. If it was still hard to sleep even though his dad was gone now.

Even though you secretly liked when Eddie snuck into your room at night, you always worried that you might get caught or Eddie would hurt himself on the way down or something.

But tonight, you’re glad he’s here without pretense of worry.

You snuggle closer to Eddie and rest your cheek against the cotton fabric barricading you from the skin of his chest. You can hear his heartbeat. The rapid rhythm like music to your ears.

Eddie wraps an arm around you and leans down to press a kiss against the top of your head. 

Eddie’s never done that before. But the act makes you feel warm and like your insides have turned to goo. You tilt your head up to look at him. His soft smile and sleepy eyes visible in the pale moonlight. 

For a brief moment, you smile back. 

There’s so many things you wish you could say but don’t know how. Eddie already knows that he’s your best friend. It’s obvious to anyone that you love and care about him. You don’t want to seem like you pity him, but you worry about how he’s doing with all the changes that are going on in his life. You want him to know that no matter what happens, you’ll be by his side. But how?

The only way you know how, the only way you can possibly sum up all of those feelings is to grab a hold of his shoulder, and reach up to bring your lips to the side of his face, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Not too soft but not too firm. One that lets him know you’re there. Warm and alive and together.

Your hand on his shoulder slides back down to his chest, where you can feel the vibration of his heart beating even faster than it did before. 

Eddie looks down at you and you look back up at him but you can’t quite read his face. His eyes are a little wide, but the rest of his expression is neutral. Not sure if your action was received the way you intended, you start to worry. Did he not like it? Was it a mistake? You think you should probably apologize…

But then Eddie cups your cheek and leans forward and before you can even do or say anything, Eddie’s lips are brushed against yours. His chapped lips press a soft kiss to your smooth ones. His lips linger as he applies pressure to yours. And somehow your body knows just how to respond. Your lips return the same pressure as you kiss him back, feeling him smile against you.

You didn’t even realize your eyes were closed till he pulls away and they flutter open. He smiles at you shyly and you gleam back at him. 

Eddie just gave you your first kiss. The first girl Eddie’s ever kissed is now you. 

Your mind is racing with thoughts. You can’t believe Eddie just kissed you! On the lips! It was weird and unexpected, but you kind of liked it, maybe even enough to want more.

For a moment, you contemplate kissing him again. Like a fool, rushing back in for seconds. But before you can, Eddie uses the hand along your cheek to pull you close to him, letting your head rest against his chest again. 

You’re lying breathless pressed against Eddie’s warm body. Perhaps it should be a relief that after an amazing yet unexpected first kiss, you don’t have to worry about what comes next. You could just enjoy it for what it was: a beautiful moment with the boy you love most.

But that’s just it. The boy you love isn’t the same boy anymore. He’s gone through some hard things. He’s changing right in front of your very eyes. And the love you once had for him isn’t the same kind of love you’re starting to have for him now. 

As summer begins to near, you realize it’ll be the first summer you spend together as something different. Because you aren’t kids anymore. You’ll never be those innocent kids again.

[melestasflight]

Writing Year Wrapped (2023)

thanks for the tag @sallysavestheday

3 Favorite Fics You've Written This Year

Red - a return to my favorite relationship of all times, Fingon/Maedhros after a semi-hiatus. I let myself feel more than think while writing this, and let the words turn into a painting. Thanks to @helyannis for making that painting come true (see above).

What Lies Beyond the End - the giving up of the Silmaril by Maglor has been and still is one of the most impactful moments for me in the Silm. The writing of this ficlet was a gloriously cathartic music-high.

To Find a Home in the Twilight - Aredhel! All about Aredhel and her contagious sense of freedom. I went wild with the worldbuilding here and dug into characters that are blank slates in canon. Thanks to @toastedbuckwheat for supplying art inspiration.

3 Fics That Stretched You the Most

Against His Wisdom - this was a personal challenge to convince my brain to accept a topic I found extremely challenging for a long time. I also really got my hands dirty with elven psychology and dug into Fingon and Fingolfin's complicated characters. Thanks to @polutrope and @ettelene for the encouragment.

The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant - this was a sweet challenge in learning how to co-write with someone else. I am a chaotic writer, I feel as I go, I let stories write themselves. I learned a thing or two about planning ahead and writing in order with @polutrope.

Character Biography: Húrin Thalion and Part 2 - these are not fics but reference works, but putting them here because it was a long labor. A deep dive into canon to look at the evolution of Húrin's character and a critical analysis of the themes and symbology surrounding his character. (also: 11.5k words for this stingy writer!). Thanks to @dawnfelagund for the support.

3 Favorite Lines You've Written (loosely interpreting "lines")

I'm taking quotes from landscape writing because it was very enjoyable this year.

From Voices That Were Once Ours

The hills of Himring stay to the west, and the plains unfold. Lothlann makes an uncomfortable flatness, naked and exposed. The Iron Mountains rise in the far distance and interrupt the seemingly endless sky. In the light of day, they seem almost fair, and for a brief moment, Finrod believes they are not the work of violence.

From What Lies Beyond the End 

The jewel illuminates the liquid space around it, calling all life to itself. Sea creatures, enormous and minute, come to offer their welcome, spiraling in a meditative dance around its brilliant streaks. Even the seagrasses reach their slim fingers with such longing they all but detach themselves from the corral that nurtures them to grasp but a strand of light. It is a silent spectacle of marvel and dread, like the sight of an erupting mountain seen from a great distance. A convergence that perhaps should never be allowed to happen upon Arda, of Sea and Sky, of profound darkness and starlight. In that fleeting instant, Maglor comes to believe that for this alone, it was all worth it.

From Red 

On the rare occasions when Fingon allows himself to think of Beleriand, one image takes shape in his mind’s eye above all others. The last moments of sunset spilling down the prairies of Ard-galen.  If one was to wait for the exact hour and find just the right angle, its hue matched to perfection the color of Maedhros’ tresses under bright daylight. The dark reds coming alive with the gentle swaying of tall grasses in the breeze, Fingon would wade between them with his palms spread open and believe that a beloved braid was untangling between his fingers.

3 Characters You Enjoyed Writing (that surprised you)

Caranthir in The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant 

Galadriel in crowned with the Sun

Zimrahin Meldis in To Find a Home in the Twilight 

3 Unexpected Inspirations

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin. This book left me reeling. Thanks to @searchingforserendipity25 for convincing me to finally read it. The Helcaraxë will never be the same after this.

Age of Empires, yes, the game. Fantastic outlet to let me plan and imagine all my battle-writing, military formations, units, etc.

Paul M. Barford' The Early Slavs: Culture and Society in Early Medieval Eastern Europe. It helped me think deeply about the relationship between the Edain and the Elven lords in Beleriand.

3 WIPs You're Excited About in the Upcoming Year

Fingon's Kingship long fic - Fingon-centric exploration of the period between Galdor's death and the Union of Maedhros. Focused on Fingon's relationship with Círdan, Húrin, Maedhros, and Maglor.

One Thousand Days - a ficlet for Maedhros & Maglor week exploring their relationship with the Esterlings.

Scion of Kings - looking forward to finishing this Fin-galad story inspired by art pieces by @ruiniel @welcomingdisaster and @searchingforserendipity25

3 People Tagged to Share Theirs

no pressure tag to share if you'd like @searchingforserendipity25 @imakemywings @theghostinthemargins

[mrsjavierp]

Where you belong?

Chapter 8 - Fill the Void

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Thanks for your feedback, hope you enjoy this chapter! Hope to hear from you all soon! I'm also working on two stories (one shots) to our beloved Joel Miller and our corny cowboy Agent Whiskey

Tag: @creedslove | @pedrostories | @mjoee13 | @immyowndefender | @iamsherlocked-1998 | @pedroswife69 |

***

Narrator’s POV:

Arriving at the CNP headquarters, Steve, Javier and you get there almost at the same time.

The tension between you and Javier was noticeable. Steve knew better than asking either of you: he wanted to live to see his girls again… And to catch Escobar.

When you locked the door in your office, the tears started appearing. 

You lied to Javier about not remembering breakfast: you hoped he lied about it too. You actually couldn't recall talking about Ben.

Fuck, was a name you didn't think in a very long time… 

Especially after meeting Javi.  

Is Javi that full of himself to say that to me? What did he mean by that? What did I tell him? And most important: what he really knew about Ben? - You thought.

On the other side of the door, Javier’s mind was racing, trying not to act by impulse. But he decided to call a friend in NYC, who could tell him all he wanted about your history with your ex. He needed to understand why you were so worked up, why that bothered so badly.

However, he didn’t want Steve to suspect anything. Luckly, they got a tip about La Quica again, that he was buying a toilet... The same one that was on La Catedral and heading to the hills on San Isidro road.

When Steve went to speak to Jacoby, to fly Centra Spike over that location, Peña took the shot and called Joe:

“Hey, Joe!” - he greeted him.

“Took you long enough, Javi, you bastard!”

“Well, I tried to avoid long distance calls, you know I hate them.”

“Oh, so the rumors are true, you left your wife in Texas?”

“I did... Better for her and little Lucas, you know…” - he was looking over his shoulder, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him.

“So, how is Y/LN on the colombian field?”

“So far so good, man. She's a good cop…”

“She was one of the best here… But I’m betting my chips that it is not about her resume you called, you want the dirty, am I right?”

Javier laughed. 

“You fucking bastard, I knew it!”

“So, what you’ve got about her and her ex?” - Peña asked.

“Peña, that was a huge mess… He was already working here for a while and, months later, she arrived from the NYPD through the front door and found by herself a lead to a prostitution scheme… It was so big that it was a closed door OP, top secret stuff, it was only her, me, our boss and another couple of guys. The operation involved high-class prostitutes, working for high profile narcos. Ben heard the rumors about the OP and tried to sweet talk her to join it… But you know how she is with her work… Things do not mix at all.”

“Oh, I know…” - Javi sighed.

“Yep, so you know the deal... At first, it was just an evil comment here and there. I don’t know if she heard it, she trusted him, she was going to marry him. We were working our asses off, long and crazy hours. He took advantage and lied to her. He got sloppy and the rumors continued to grow... But I still don't know what she knew. Anyway, his luck didn’t last long: we were about to bust a brothel on the night that the narcos were there. Guess who was in one of those filthy beds?”

“No way…” - Javier closed his eyes, incapable of believing it.

“Yep. She found out on the job. Didn't help when she also discovered that he was trying to trade inside info with criminals.”

“Fuck, he was a dirty cop?”

“Yep. Luckily, she was too up-tight with all of her work. Not only was she as clean as a whistle, she got promoted to Colombia.”

“I can't believe it. Fuck...”

“Like a motherfucking movie, am I right?”

“Thanks for telling me. I can understand her behavior now…”

“She's one of the best cops I've ever got to work, Peña. She didn't deserve that.”

“I believe you. Well, thanks, man. Call if you need anything.”

Peña hung up the phone, if he was a mess before, now he was a wreck. The same questions were going through his mind again: How is he going to keep Lorraine away? How will he manage his boy's custody? How is he divorcing her and keep you in the dark, until the process is over?

A couple hours later, the tip to Centra Spike  worked: a conversation between another sicario, Velasco, and his lover is recorded.

You, Steve, Javier, Centra Spike, Mili Group and CIA reunited to see area’s maps:

"Well, we can discard the smaller ones... Not Escobar's style." - Steve pointed out.

"Which one of these has at least 2 roads of access?" - you ask.

"This one, Y/LN." - Jones, from the CIA, responded.

"This is your winner, niños." - you draw a circle, indicating it.

"Y/LN, what about Pinzón? We're gonna need men, equipment, cars..." - Javier commented.

"Leave Pinzón to me, Peña." - you responded.

You went back to his office, but he refused.

"¡Cabrón!" - you thought.

You went back to yours, but in the way, Steve talked to you:

"Jefe, any luck?"

"Not yet... But let me handle it. He doesn't know who he's dealing with." - the boys looked at each other, curious.

You called Crosby, Crosby called Gaviria and… Let's wrap it up: about 15 minutes later, you all were preparing to bust Escobar.

All the efforts for nothing, unfortunately: Escobar escaped through your fingers, again.

Escobar, however, made a career fooling and killing police officers, what he thought was going to a truce about to happen turned into a fuse to another battle, which made him even more dangerous.

Days later, you all were right as the skies were blue: another attack came. 

Escobar's sicarios killed a bunch of Pinzón's men all around Medellín… 

Pinzón chose to resign - it was the last drop to his sanity. He wanted personal peace more than to defend his country… How would someone judge him? 

Escobar killed more than four hundred cops a year - although it was a risk, it had no garanties on being alive and no one could fulfill any expectations to actually get it done.

*

Days passed by and President Gaviria decided to bring Coronel Carrillo back from Spain, as soon as he could.

The first thing Carrillo did was talk to you, since Peña and Steve weren't alone anymore:

“So, Y/LN… You're the boss now. I hope that we can work together at the same pace.” - Carrillo smiled at you.

“Well, I can't say anything about style, but we sure make a hell of a team. I'm saying the same thing as I said to Peña and Murphy: I'm also a field agent… Don't let the high hills fool you.”

He smirked.

“Vamos, Y/LN. I've got to say hi to an old friend…”

****

Carrillo decided to put up a show: tell in grand style about who's back in town. The actual goal was putting Escobar's partners on the map, by transmission. So Carrillo would stick his nose out and so would Escobar.

He lets you, Javier and Steve mapping Escobar's spies.

About a couple hours later, he came back and you and your inside team did the best you all could to track them all.

“We captured six radio transmissions.” - Jacoby informed. - “But we haven't pinpointed the exact location.” 

“So our best bet is to corner each of these buildings. This time, we hit the ground.” - you said.

Carrillo ordered his soldier, Trujillo, to send 6 unmarked cars with 4 men each, to observe the buildings, with 20 minute-intervals to avoid attention.

After that, he called Peña to join him.

“Be careful out there.” - you warn them.

Minutes later, when you and Steve are alone, you ask:

“Steve, is he always like that? Taking Peña up and down?”

“Sometimes, Jefe… He probably just wants an update to what happened from someone he trusts… He doesn't know you yet, it's his way.“ - Steve told me.

You'd show Carrillo who you really were: a woman younger than all three (Steve, Peña and himself) whose balls were bigger. 

***

Peña, Trujillo, Carrillo and other officers captured 6 of the boys who were working for Escobar. 

They took them to a hidden alley, on Bairro Escobar.

They are on their knees, scared. Well, 5 of them, at least.

“Do you know who I am?” - Carrillo started. - “My name is Coronel Horacio Carrillo. Last week, 30 police officers were murdered.”

“Those pigs probably deserved it.” - one of them said.

“Shut up, kid.” - Javier murmured.

“Many of them were my friends. A person perched on rooftops guiding murders with radios are assassins themselves… I hope after this encounter you'll reconsider working with someone who thinks he's above the law.”

Although Javier knew Carrillo was right, something felt off. Wrong.

At the same time, Carrillo cocked his pistol.

“What?” - another boy provoked. He was no more than fifteen, brown skin. - “Am I supposed to shit my pants in fear?”

Javier's stomach ached badly. It's been a while since he was afraid of something.

“No.” - Carrillo responded, shaking his head. He pointed the gun and shot, with no hesitation.

His body just fell on the floor, like it was nothing.

“Am I making myself clear? I want you to tell your friends that this is what happens when you work for Pablo Escobar!” - he shouted.

Carrillo analyzed the boys and chose one: the youngest, probably no more than 7 years old. The boy was crying, in silence.

He bent down, looked deeply in his eyes and handed him a bullet.

“Take it.” - the little boy obeyed. - “Tell them this is for Pablo.”

Carrillo stood up again, as if nothing happened.

“Remember what you saw… And know what will happen to you if I see you on a rooftop. You can leave. Now!” 

The five boys ran as if their lives depended on it.

Javier couldn't move. He felt like throwing up. He looked at Carrillo, as if he asked something. 

Carrillo’s expression was cold and distant.

They all drove back to CNP in silence.

When they arrived back, Steve met Javi on his way out.

“Javi, where are the fucking spotters?” - Steve asked, anxious.

“Carrillo went a different way… He, uh… He cut them loose.” - Javier responded, screeching his head, tense. How the hell is he going to tell what happened?

“Oh, we're letting people go, now? I bet Y/LN will be pissed AF…”

Javi rolled his eyes and, lighting up a cigarette, said:

“Yeah, Murphy, we're letting people go.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” - Javier opened the door of his truck. He needed to leave as fast as he could. He needed a hug. He needed to feel human again.

“Hey, fucking talk to me!” - Steve demanded, interrupting the friend.

“Let go my fucking arm.” 

“What the fuck happened?!” - Steve continued to bother Javier.

Javier sighted and responded:

“Carrillo put a gun to the kid's head and pulled the trigger… To make a fucking point.”

Steve swallowed hard. 

“We good now?” - Javier mocked, entered his car and headed to the apartment complex where you all lived.

***

About late at night, you hear fervorous knocks at your door.

You were awake, since you just got home.

You pick up your gun and open the door, without noticing that you were only wearing a thin long gray dress, showing your curves.

It was Javier, looking like shit with a bottle of whiskey and a cigar in hand.

“Let me in, please, cariño.” - his brown eyes were almost black. Sad and big.

You put down the gun and let him in.

“Peña, you look like shit… What happened?” - you asked, as you both sat down on your couch and he served whiskey to both of you and put the cigar in the astray.

“Salut, cariño.” - he raised his glass.

You raised as well, drank it up and put away the glass.

“Damn, Peña. That's good stuff… You didn't answer me. What happened?” - you uttered. You knew something bad had happened. The cigar, the good whiskey, his painful expression…

“Cariño, I… I don't know how to say it.” 

“Start from the beginning, Javi… I'm right here.” - you suggested, softly.

You were genuinely concerned for him.

He kissed your lips, softly, by surprise. 

You stop after a few minutes, reaching out for air. Your apartment felt like a thousand degrees. Your body was sweating, the adrenaline was running through your veins. But, again, you’d deny even from yourself.

“Javi…” - he already knew what you're going to say and he doesn't want to hear it again. 

“Cariño, please don't. Not now. I need to forget about today's route.”

“Okay, baby boy.” - you sat on his lap and kissed him deeply. He melted under your lips, his hands touching your body, hungry.

You only needed an excuse to be with him again. 

Just one more night… - you thought.

If you were wearing pants, they'd be on fire.

“Cariño, just a heads up…” - he started.

You looked at him, confused, waiting for the rest.

“I won’t be gentle. Right now, I can't. I'm really not capable… Are you okay with it?”

You continued on his lap, but now, you put your knees on each side of his body and he involved his arms around you. Even wearing clothes, the electricity was passing through both of you.

“Show me your worst, Peña… I dare you.” - you whisper.

He smiled, but his eyes darkened with lust.

Javier literally ripped your dress, revealing your skin.

“Hey! Are you fucking crazy, Javi?” - you yell at him. - “I’m gonna fucking…” - you didn't finish, as he slapped your cheek, not enough to hurt you, he never would, but enough to surprise you and make you shut up.

“You don't speak until you're spoken to, babygirl. You don't come until I say so. You won’t do anything without me saying. If you behave like a good girl, I may let you cum. If not, I'm gonna punish you. Understood?”

You shook your head positively, incapable of believing in what was happening.

He slapped your ass, bringing you back.

“Words, cariño.”

“Yes, I understood it.” - you responded, in a low voice.

Who was that man on Javier's body and where he was the first night we were fucked? - you thought. 

“Good girl, cariño…” - he touched your body, started at your neck and went down to your waist. - “Now, how do I begin? I've got so many options, so many possibilities… I know we only had sex one time, one night, but I feel like I know your body really well, cariño.”

You looked at him, anxious, waiting.

He picked you up in his arms and took you to your bed.

“Now, we're ruining your bed, cariño.”

He ripped your panties and, with no warning, kissed your mound. You relaxed as he kissed slowly for a bit. 

He got up, leaving you clenching over nothing.

He began to take off his suit and tie, your eyes hungry for him, mouth watering.

“What do you want, cariño?” - he asked, eyes locked up with yours.

“Can I help you undress, Javi?”

“Such a polite girl… Yeah, you can.”

You took off his tie, letting it rest on the bed. Helped him with the buttons on his shirt, holding back the urge to rip them as he did with your dress.

He took off his shoes and socks and you unbuckled his belt, letting it side with the tie… You had a dirty idea, but it would have to wait a bit.

At last, his pants went down with his boxers.

He was deciding on what to do, but you couldn't wait. Your hand touched his lower belly, aiming for his dick. 

“Oh, cariño, you want to use your mouth, now? Wanna please me?”

“Yes, Javi.”

“Beg for it.” - he said in that condescending tone you hated.

“Javi, please, let me suck your dick.” - you coo.

He caressed your cheek with one hand and the other held his shaft.

“I don't think you want it enough, cariño.” - and he slowly started going up and down his length. He had a stupid cocky smile on his face.

“You know I can be better than your hand, Javi… Please, let me touch you, I'm begging you…” - your voice barely was a whisper into your room.

“Go ahead, cariño… But don't be greedy. I don't wanna come right now.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip, while he held your head. Your tongue and lips worked up and down, while one of your hands cupped his balls.

“Fuck, cariño… I knew you were missing me, but didn't know you were so hungry for my cock.”

He grabbed your hair, setting the rhythm, until you couldn't stand only worth your knees on the bed, needing to claw at his tights, and your nose almost touching his pelvis. 

He was fucking your throat and you were so wet.

His mouth was making obscene sounds, saying how good you're doing, how badly he missed you and your beautiful lips.

He slowed down the rhythm, until he stopped, taking it off your mouth. His dick was aching for more, but he wanted to come inside of you.

“You did good, cariño. Can you continue to be a good girl for me?”

“Yeah, Javi.” - you responded. Your legs were trembling, your pussy throbbing for attention.

“Lay down and open your legs for me… Yes, just like that. Tell me, where did you leave your vibrator?”

“In the bathroom, the second drawer.”

“Don't move.”

He picked it up and examined it, curious about the pink wand in his hand.

“So, you've been touching yourself in the bathroom? Door closed? Biting your lips or a towel to not make any noise?”

You don't respond to it, you’re just running away from his glaze. 

He slapped your ass again.

“Look at me while I talk to you.” - he demanded. - “Answer me!”

“Y-y-yeah, Javi. I was doing it in the bathroom, biting a towel.” - you murmured.

“Now, you're gonna show me what you've been denying from me to hear, such as in person as through these walls… But don't come. Not until I say so.” - and handed you the vibrator.

“But Javi, I can't control myself when I use it…”

He smiled, the same sly smile you knew and hated.

“That's not my problem. You come when I say it.” - he was being ruthless towards you.

With your right hand shaking, you started to use your wand on the softest mode, as you were so aroused since it all started.

Your room was filled with vibration sounds and your moans. Your eyes looking at his figure, wishing he’d do something to you instead. 

You were also a hundred percent sure Javier was punishing you somehow. He wanted to prove himself again.

Javier, on the other hand, was admiring you. The way your pupils were dilated, your body was shaking, your smooth skin chilling, your beautiful pussy soaking wet… If he could, he'd take a picture just to eternalize that moment.

“O-o-oh fuck, Javi… I can't take it anymore… I'm so close, please, let me come!” - you beg.

He smirked at you.

“Oh, cariño, you're close?” - he leaned towards you, as if he was going to enter at your pussy. It only made it worse and closer, as you could almost feel his scent and his warm skin.

“Holyfuck, Javi, please! Please let me!” - you beg, desperately.

He grabbed his belt, tied your wrists together, holding your vibrator in your clitoris. After, he shoved his dick inside of you.

“Go ahead, cariño. Come for me and on me.” - he ordered.

You thank God he said that. You squealed his name high, releasing all of your juices onto him.

You were positively sure you woke up your neighbors.

“Oh, fuck! So good for me, cariño.” - Javier praised you.

He continued without any pity towards you, pounding hard inside you. 

Not only you’re embarrassingly wet, you were so overstimulated that the orgasm was knocking at your pussy again, so fast

“I love when you yell my name, cariño!” - he said, full of bliss.

“Javier, for god's sake!” - you yell again.

“¡Mierda! Cariño, are you close again?” - he asked with a devilish tone. - “What a delicious greedy pussy, missing me so much… Oh, fuck!”

Tears began to go down your face. It was impossible to hold anything more and, without his permission, you came again, your body shaking vigorously.

“Holy fuck, Y/N!” - It was his time to yell your name as loud as he could. - “I can... I can feel... You're so fucking tight, you're gonna rip my dick off!"

He untied you and turned off your wand. It relieved you for a bit, but he laid on top of you and chased his own orgasm. 

After he came, you both lay next to each other, gasping for air, eyes locked up to each other.

“I missed you so much, Javi…” - you reveal.

He smiled, happy. His hand went to your cheek, fondling.

“Yo también te extrañe, cariño. You have no idea…” (I missed you too.)

“I think I do, Javi… Te extrañe todos los malditos días desde la primera noche.” (I missed you all those damn days, since the first night.)

“Gracias a Díos, cariño. I thought I was alone in this mess.” (Thanks God.)

You laughed together.

“You can't pretend that you don't want to be with me anymore, cariño. I'm serious.” - he declared.

You sighed.

“I know, Javi… But we also know it's not that simple… We work together, I'm your boss, Escobar is on the run…”

“We can take it slow, we don't have to do anything you don't feel like it. But don't push me away again.” - Javier begged you.

“I really don't know how to, Javi. I don't know how to. I haven't dated since…” - you didn't finish.

His eyes were soft and warm, like cocoa on a winter night. Your heart felt like an ice cube on the sun, again. 

“Since your ex, Ben?” - he asked.

“Yep.” - you responded, popping the “p”. - “‘It’s not gonna be easy for you, so I’d like to warn you: if you have anything to tell me, tell me as soon as possible. I’m not gonna demand you to do it now, but think if you have anything to tell me, and if you do, you can.”

“First, we need to get to know each other. Build trust and I’m not talking about the field. Let’s get to know each other, talk, laugh, have sex, grab a bite. We’re neighbors, we don’t even need to leave our apartments if you don’t want to.”

“No one can know about us, Javier Jesus Peña. Not even Murphy.”

“Don’t worry about it, cariño.” - he pecked your lips softly.

“And please, don’t sleep with anyone else and it includes your informants.” - you rolled your eyes. - “I know, it’s stupid since we’re not in a relationship, but if you want to do it, please, just end this… this thing we’re about to begin. I’m not saying that again.”

“Cariño, for God’s sake!” - Javier laughed, his hand left your face to your waist. - “No one ever made me feel this way.” - you laughed. - “I’m serious, hermosa. Don’t worry about it.”

You breathe out heavily.

“Well, let’s see how it goes.” - you say, still not allowing your heart to sink further. - “We need a shower, Javi. Care to join me?”

He smiled and you both entered your bathroom... But Javier's mind didn't care for sleeping. He still needed to punish you for coming without his permission, while you were filling the bathtub, distracted.

"Of course, cariño... Besides, you haven't exactly been a good girl for me for a few days. Don't think I'll let you escape that easily."

Your eyes went to his naked figure, surprised.

"Oh, I thought I was off the hook..."

Next

[liesmyth]

Okay this is weirdly specific and obvs if the answer requires doxing yourself don't answer but hjdkfg fave places to go running at? I started going on more walks and it's so fun to explore the local space!!

no worries! I'm very alright with telling people I live in Rome, a city of 3 million people. you can all have that for free etc. (actually, I'm very braggy about it. borderline obnoxious, ngl. Think the Italy equivalent of a New Yorker)

Also!!! I LOVE THIS QUESTION SO MUCH. It made me go through Strava history and dig some running pic I took.

the appia antica route!

if you (generic you) are ever in Rome, there's a lovely green area along the old Appia way that's great for running but also for picnics. My favourite local road race (coming up next month!!) is partly along that route and it's SO beautiful. It's one of those places that make you feel you're genuinely grateful you have a body to move around in and experience the wind and the sun and the mosquitoes in your teeth and the achy calves from doing a few km on cobblestones. It's a very large green area (Appia Antica / Parco degli Acquedotti / Parco di Tor Fiscale / Parco della Caffarella) and there are so many fun trails and paths.

Lungotevere / centro storico swag

Sometimes u (me) gotta flex and be like "oh, look, I live in Rome" and just plot your long run so that you end up by the Vatican or whatever. There's a route along the Tiber river that's technically a bike lane but it's large enough to run safely, and it's really fun for Sunday runs / whenever you have a bit of time to actually get there.

There are other really great running spots in central Rome like any of the parks (Villa Borghese, Villa Ada etc. and EYE don't really do it often but it's very nice)

Here's a pic! Not mine

Country roads take me home etc — Castelli Romani

Hilly towns just outside the city that have veeery fun trails and countryside views! You have to actually get there so it's a bit involved, and then once you're there you're like "why the fuck did I think running up a hill was a good idea?" but if you DO like running up hills, it's fun. I like going in the summer for longer runs and I don't bring any snacks just absolutely gorge myself on blackberries from the bushes.

My beloved neighbourhood run.

I love walking out of the door and just going for it! It's very entertaining as far as "neighbourhood routes" go. It's a decently safe area, I can stay well clear of cars, there's a car park I can do sprints in (and, occasionally, will see people fucking in cars, as one does) and some green. I wish it had a bit more elevation, but there's a stretch of road that's decently hilly so I can't complain + there are some VERY interesting characters and sights. Alas, it's within sniffing distance of a bakery AND a steakhouse, so there isn't a time of the day I can run at without getting hungry along the way, but I don't mind — I have been known to plot a route so that I finish right in front of a bakery for breakfast.

no landmark photos for obvious reasons but here are some cute birdies I saw running a few weeks ago

Holiday run!

One thing I really love to do on holiday is go run around a new city / any place I've never been in, and exploring new places while I'm at it. Some of my most beloved holiday memories are of running early in the morning in new places. Sometimes it backfires horribly and you end up on a muddy path at six thirty AM with water in your shoes and frantically trying to match your phone GPS with that of the route you downloaded yesterday, but it's usually worth it. These are a few photos I had on my phone — the beach is somewhere along lake Garda, and it's been years and I still remember that run with a lot of fondness. Also, another time I got lost in the middle of nowhere in Tuscany and ended up chatting with an incredibly MILFy American tourist who was also out running and that too is a fond memory... anyway. Holiday runs my beloved

[strawberyblogs]

Genshin Impact Alhaitham x GN! Reader - Love Letters 🍉

Background: Y/N currently resides in the boundaries of Mondstadt. Alhaitham (frequently referred to as Al) is on a lengthy obligation in Sumeru. Although separated by distance, the two lovers communicate through letter.

July 3rd

To my beloved Al,

In these past evenings, I've found myself wandering without your presence; therefore, I decided to write you this epistle. Although I gave you my word that I would obtain ways to keep myself company, these sweltering days make it taxing. A typical day for me doesn't begin till almost an hour before noon. Of course, I awake much before that; however, I am simply enamored with The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies and spend at least a few hours each day reading and rereading the novel. Do you recall when you first retrieved such a gift for me? Oh, of course not! Do not believe that I doubt your intelligence; it's simply the fact that you gather so many artifacts for me on your various journeys. You must think that these gifts are just silly toys for me; however, each one has its own place on my mantlepiece. Oh dear, I feel that I have gone on and on about only myself. Please realize that it seems as if there's not a molecule in my body not possessed by my longing for you. In my evenings without you, I find my way to Stormbearer Point in remembrance of the times we'd spent there together. But I do admit that during my moments atop that hill, the small of my waist feel rather empty, and my fingers now only may interlock with loneliness. These tepid summer nights feel quite comforting, but they do not replace the warmth your body once exerted against mine. Despite my deep longing for your touch, I must acknowledge that I have been sleeping quite well. I'm quite impressed by my ability to finally put pen to paper; however, this shall conclude my exchange. I feel lethargic and wouldn't want that to diminish the quality of my penmanship. This night shall have the sensation of a thousand without you. It's my greatest wish that you will receive this letter with its dignity preserved and may even find the time to return one to me. 

Goodnight to me, good day to you, maybe.

With deepest love and admiration,

~ Y/N

July 14

Y/N, 

Please pardon my timely response. I was simply trying to find the time to correctly express my yearning for you. That, combined with the current undertakings I am consumed with, has resulted in this delayed message. Contrary to your concerns, my time has been filled with plenty of proceedings to busy me. As of now, I reside in Sumeru City. Not to boast, but my room is quite spacious. Unfortunately, I'm not able to communicate all the details with you, as confidentiality rules typically go. My location does frequent between Sumeru City and Vanarana. The glowing aura of the Tree of Dreams makes my heart ache for you. I bet your laughter has graced the air as you read about me comparing you to a tree; however, I wish you could see it yourself. It's a bewitching violet and azure tone with dainty leaves emerging from the top. Although it is quite a landmark, its appeal is laughable compared to your glamour. I would give my own soul just to lay my eyes on you for just another moment, if such an exchange could be made. Excuse my dramatics; however, it does feel like my heart is but a thousand tons without your presence. My lips so strongly ache for your gentle kiss that I can't even utter a word. Thankfully, my silence is quite useful for a moment such as now. Even with such a bustling scene in Sumeru City, I still do feel as lonesome as you. It's quiet moments like these where I truly realize how much of my body you fill with your light. It feels like such an injustice that I have been savagely torn away from you due to my work. Why I have half a mind to run away to somewhere far away with your fingers intertwined in mine. Liyue maybe? Ah, but with the reputation my name and face carry, such fantasies would be impossible. My dear, please know that before the leaves fall, your touch will again meet mine. Love is not a worthy word to describe my feelings for you. The sensation in my breast when I think of you is simply indescribable. Continue to share your days with me through letter. We must remember that distance is but a miniature obstacle.

Goodbye,

~ Alhaitham

--

If it's unclear, these are just short exchanges between Y/N and Alhaitham through letter.

If you made it to the end, I thank you immensely! I hope this all made some sense and anything you have questions about, leave a comment or inbox me! If you enjoyed this writing, please like and/or reblog! And as always, PLEASE send in requests! Thanks again for reading!!

-🍓

[annawrites444]

Hellooooo may I request reader x Thalia where they had little bit of chemistry well traveling with each other to the camp with Annabeth and Luke but after the incident only thing reader has left of her in her Jacket ,but when she's back finds reader has Joined Luke's side and doesn't know what to do.

Sorry if you need more to work off but the rest and ending is up to you

HIII ANON!!! AHHHH TYSM this is my first request ever so I'm so excited <3 I'll try my best to do it justice :)

*PLEASE DON'T REPOST ON ANY OTHER MEDIA OR WEBSITE OTHER THAN TUMBLR WITHOUT PROPER CREDS*

A Lost Love~ Thalia Grace x reader

TW and A/N : Some use of Y/N, Angst, cliffhanger?- for now... (also not proofread)

You remember the fear in her eyes, the yelps of surprise, the pace at which the five of you ran, never looking back. You bounded over hill after hill, Thalia and Luke took the lead with you and Annabeth in tow, and Grover close behind. The furies were hot on your trail and your breath shook more with every step. You saw the flash of Thalia's sleek black hair streak through a gorgeous sunset sky, normally you'd take the time to sit and enjoy an evening like this with your newfound friend, but unfortunately luck was not on your side tonight.

As the camp grew closer so did the furies who were even more bent on catching the young demigods before it was too late. The group of you were able to put enough distance between yourselves that Thalia could turn around and stop you all to quickly buy you some time.

"Listen, there are too many of them and not all of us can fight. " Thalia choked out, "I'll hold them off" her once fear ridden eyes hardened with determination. "No." you interjected to her surprise, which led her to lock eyes with Luke, giving him. curt nod to signal him to pull both you and Annabeth away from her and toward the camp before the furies caught up. You and Annabeth let out cries of refusal and struggled against Luke's grip, before noticing how emotional this was for him too. "We have to go." Luke muttered, his voice cracking with hurt but he knew there was no other way. "No. We'll find a way, you don't have to do this" your cried out to her. "Hey," Thalia slid off her black leather jacket and threw it to you. "keep it, it looks better on you anyways." Thalia's eyes softened and she gave you a last soft smile before turning around and getting into a fighting stance with her dagger drawn. The furies were much closer and managed to gain speed. Luke pulled as hard as possible with grover's help to direct you and Annabeth to camp, blocking out both of your cries for Thalia, Thalia your friend. Your companion. Thalia your new found love.

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

That day you lost hope in the gods and in camp, you stuck around for Annabeth and Luke but once given the chance you ran with Luke to join a side you felt would give you much needed justice and revenge.

You still wore that jacket, everyday. Now as Luke's partner and a servant of Kronos, you had a new purpose, a new motivation to get up in the morning. No more Hermes cabin with the other rejects and unlucky campers wishing their godly parent claimed them, now you had status and power. Not to mention a friend at your side who also believed in the same cause. However, we never forget our first loves, and consequently you couldn't either, your mind still went back to Thalia whenever you sought comfort. The few times you'd ever felt anxious or scared since then, you'd don Thalia's beloved jacket and picture her smile that blew away any storm cloud of worry.

You patrolled the outskirts of the camp, clad in bronze armor, with your preferred weapon strapped to your side, analyzing every rock and tree you saw to make sure you were alone. You noticed the trail of smoke floating above the treetops in the air, it was most likely somebody's camp. You let your curiosity get the better of you and follow it to it's source, however as you were passing through a thicket of trees you hear the bush nearby rustle and look with surprise to see Thalia staring back, she had a silver bow and arrow pointed at you and her eyes were hardened with determination. You were frozen in shock with a mixture of both feelings of shame and joy. Your best friend whom you thought was dead was alive and well. Not to mention she had somehow gotten even more beautiful than your last painful encounter. "Y/N..?" Thalia looked up at you with a growing smile as she quickly threw her weapon aside and embraced you. It took you a moment before you reciprocated and tightly wrapped your arms around her burying your face into the crook of her neck. She smelled like the campfire she had surely just left.

Thalia pulled away from the embrace to hold both of your hands and looks you dead in the eye, "You don't know how much I've missed you" you can't help but smile, trying to stomach the growing anxious pit of emotions in your stomach. She didn't know about you. She didn't know you sided with Kronos considering her reaction. "Why are you here??" you ask with trepidation, "Oh, I'm a Hunter of Artemis now and I was just patrolling the camp grounds." she replied and quickly let go of your hand. "Oh." you looked away feeling a sharp pang in your chest, becoming a Hunter of Artemis meant that she rejected love. "Hey, is that my old jacket?" Thalia pointed out the worn leather jacket you had on underneath your armor. Your face burned as you scrambled to find a response to her observation. "uhh, yes I wear it all the time." you fiddle with the zipper/ buttons on the jacket and look back up at her to find her grinning back, you then spend the next few hours leisurely walking around the forest and you directed yourself and Thalia as far away from Luke and his expectant band of soldiers of the army of Kronos. You couldn't stop talking with Thalia, who talked about her year as a Hunter and how much she has learned, and you talked about anything you could other than the camp that you left behind and your current status in Kronos's army.

Finally, while you were both headed back you stopped her and with all the courage you had gathered, told her about your new position. "Thalia, I left camp-halfblood." you say your voice ringing strong with confidence, she looks at you expectantly awaiting your explanation, "I have missed you so much and wish I could keep catching up but I need to tell you something. And I don't want this to change your view of me but you need to know...I joined Kronos with Luke." you wait a moment after hearing her gasp to look up at her shocked expression, eyes widened and her arms falling limp to her side. "I don't want to fight you" you say putting some distance between yourself and Thalia unsure if she would attack or not. She seemed to be conflicted about that as well as her eyes looked clouded with several emotions as if she was debating that very thing.. whether or not to fight you. "Why?" Thalia asked with a crack in her voice since you were the last person she'd expect to have to face as an enemy. "Ever since you sacrificed yourself for us and ever since Luke came back from his quest from Hermes, I have lost faith in the Gods that claimed to protect us, Demi-gods get slaughtered doing whatever the Gods want, we fight and die to just do them favors. I was done feeling rejected and not "important" enough for my godly parent to claim me." Your eyes hardened in response to your passionate argument. You slide your chest plate off before taking off Thalia's beloved jacket and holding it out to her to take back, after she didn't make a move to take it, you drop it on the ground before throwing on your chest plate and giving her one last pained expression before turning to leave.

You didn't look back once, though you desperately wanted to. Thalia was your friend yet you knew you could not be around her, for her safety and yours too. You chose to retreat even though you should have fought her, you couldn't fight Thalia, not because you weren't trained enough to, but because of what it would mean. It would mean that you two were truly enemies and you didn't want that. Fighting back the burning tears in your eyes, you headed back to your camp. Thalia stood frozen in the middle of the clearing you had just left and bounced different ideas and arguments around in her head as to why on Earth you would join Kronos. She understood how you and Luke felt, even she who was the daughter of Zeus himself, never got as much attention as she had wanted from her father. She had won you back and lost you all in the same day, Thalia knew it was for the best that you left and didn't exchange information with her anymore, but it pained her to have to turn around and go back to her life as a hunter now that you were on her radar. You who had once brought her so much carefree joy and happiness, you who had loved her and who she loved back. She had once loved you, what troubled her know was if those buried feelings would resurface and if they would command her as they did before. Thalia picked up the jacket, her fingers sliding over every scratch and hole you had fixed with little patches, the inside of the jacket's cuffs still had her name in silver lettering embroidered. It stung to hold it, to feel it still warm in her hand.

What could Thalia do for a lost love?

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

Thank you so much for reading this far, I had so much fun writing this and hope my interpretation of Thalia was okay 😭, especially since we don't get much about her in the series and I haven't read the series in a very long time.

Divider pic creds to: heavenlayt

Have a good rest of your day/night

much love- Anna <3

[urwendii]

returned! Fingon has to go back and kill post Nirnaeth Maedhros in the most romantic and tender way possible and then the Domestic! AU actually happens in this AU (brought to you by me being extremely unwell about these two)

yessssssss

it includes Fingon muttering how sorry he is while Maedhros bleeds to death tenderly cradled in his arms.

'I'm so so sorry, Russo." Fingon can't see much past the harsh downpour around them. Maybe it's another grace from Ulmo. Perhaps it is not at all. He does not know much beyond the body craddled against his chest. Maedhros' eyes are wide - terror and confusion, and - oh, also anger, that terrifying fierce white anger that burned at its core, the fire that even Morgoth could not put out.

"This is the only way, you know it." he sobs, kissing the clammy skin of his beloved's forehead. But Maedhros' fëa is clinging to him, clawing at Fingon's, hurling questions of How can you be there, I watched you die, why did you leave me, why are you there?

"Please Russo, let go - you have to!"

He does not want to consider what can happen if the redhead warrior, the ghost of a Prince, the shell of his other self, does not answer Námo's call.

"Please." he whispers again, against cold damp lips as more blood soaks through his tunic. Fingon had begged, Fingon had raged, Fingon had repented and Fingon had left again because how can he remain behind in the Undying Lands when so much is still crumbling around his kin.

Maedhros' lips are moving, opening and closing as if trying to form words but in the end its with his fëa he reaches for Fingon again — and it's like watching himself from Varië's tapestries once more, it's like seeing his husband killing and killing and giving up on everything, hope, kindness, clemency.

Fingon had died and with him took the last tiny part of Maitimo back to the Halls of Mandos.

"It has to stop beloved. It has. Please let go." And tenderly, as if they were still Findekáno and Maitimo, foolish Princes of the Noldor with naive hopes in them, he tucks a dirty carmin strand behind a damaged ear and forced a smile through his anguish.

The sword he used lays behind him, out of the way. Its steel and silver quietly crying in the rain.

"I'll be there. When you're ready to come home. And we'll go and build a house on that hill where I kissed you for the first time. Remember? You blushed so hard I thought you were going to swoon."

And finally, finally there are tears on Maedhros Fëanorion's face. Fingon kisses him and swallows back another shattering sob.

"Your mother misses you. And Finrod's there too, do you know? He came back faster than anyone thought he would."

Fingon can feel the redhead's hröa slumping, the fëa shivering. It is almost the end. He shuffles his legs and readjusts his grip on Maedhros.

"It's ok my love. It's ok. I got you."

It's over he wants to add. Let go of the Silmarils. The Oath is vain. Let go, let go, let go. Around him the rain comes to a lull and he can see the blurry silhouette of Lord Eönwë standing guard in the distance.

And then Fingon Astaldo, the Valiant, starts — for the second time in Beleriand — to sing to save Maedhros, from the darkness, from himself, from a fell fate that would have awaited him.

"I'll wait for you, Russo, as long as I have to so don't rush alright, beloved."

It takes a few more minutes and then Fingon feels it. He remains there sitting in the mud and clutching Maedhros' empty hröa, sobbing in the blood-soaked strands of hair, until the gold of his braids turn copper, until the clouds lift and Arien rises, until he feels Lord Eönwë's hands on his shoulders gently telling him it is all over.

[revletter]

Two-fer

⭐ A comic script starring Boshi and Geno ⭐

————————————

(Yoshi's Island) (It's the 27th Annual Mushroom Derby. Yoshis and people are everywhere; it's a bit like a fair; clearly a beloved local longtime tourist attraction.) (There's a Yoshi canopy with another big banner that says "Partner Up Here!") (Most of the Yoshis on a big chart already have names written alongside them) (dialogue from off panel:) PERSON 1: I'd like to enter with this blue one, please. PERSON 2: Um - you don't want to do that. ———————————— (Under the sign-up canopy, a Yoshi attendant behind the desk is talking to someone who remains out of frame) ???: Is that so? YOSHI ATTENDANT: Yeah, no one rides Boshi! ———————————— YOSHI ATTENDANT (from out of panel): … like… EVER. (View of Boshi in the distance. He is stretching for the race, and growling at a couple of intimidated-looking folks that got too close) ———————————— ???: Fortunate for me. (A wooden hand begins to write on a sign-up sheet) ———————————— [More past the cut]

———————————— (Under the sign-up canopy again. The wooden hand places a small bag of Yoshi cookies on the counter) ATTENDANT: You know you don't get a refund if he says no, right? ???: Of course. ATTENDANT: Okay… they're your cookies… But if you don't mind me asking…

———————————— Yoshi attendant (from off panel): …Why him?

(View of Boshi again. He is looking cool, but his age is showing here; he might be rubbing a sore joint. Out of Boshi's view, a Yoshi parent is nervously shooing their fascinated kids away from him)

??? (from off panel): …I like his little shades.

———————————— (View of the mystery person’s back as he exits - it’s now clear that it’s Geno - and the attendant, holding the sign-up sheet with an expression best described by “old guy stares at paper meme”)

ATTENDANT: Good luck, mister… uh … mister …

(INSET: the signup form, on which "♡♪!?" is written)

———————————— (Geno has approached Boshi; the tone is adversarial. Maybe it's that JoJo walk)

BOSHI: Get outta town, punk. I don't DO riders.

———————————— (Geno, hand on hip. Boshi, looking annoyed)

GENO: It's been a long time since you won. I'm here to fix that.

BOSHI: And just who do you think you are?

———————————— (Geno leans casually against a tree, arms crossed; Boshi just looks more peeved)

GENO: Someone you'll go faster with.

BOSHI: I'm faster SOLO.

———————————— (Geno smiles; his eyes are a little shinier. Boshi looks suspicious)

GENO: Want to bet?

BOSHI: …

BOSHI: Bet what?

———————————— (big panel: The Mushroom Derby!) (Geno's riding Boshi. He's probably used his Boost on Boshi or something, idk. But yeah, they're zoom zoom zooomin')

———————————— (also big panel: Awards after the race!) (Boshi has the first place trophy. He looks blissfully happy, with a hint of tears starting in his eyes.) (He's not wearing his trademark sunglasses, but he is wearing a shirt that says "This is my I PROMISE TO CHILL OUT shirt". Make it somehow obvious that it was made by Geno.)

———————————— (Boshi is walking away from the crowd, now looking strangely downcast and sad. Behind him, a Yoshi parent runs after him, trailed by an enthusiastic small Yoshi.)

YOSHI PARENT: Boshi, wait!

———————————— (Boshi turns. Other Yoshi parents and kids have also followed.)

YOSHI PARENT: Could you… coach my kid?

OTHER YOSHI PARENTS: Mine too! Mine too! They love you! They know all about you!

———————————— (Close up on Boshi, emotional, wide-eyed and smiling, a tear starting down his cheek.)

BOSHI: I… Yeah. Yeah, I bet I could do that.

———————————— (View: Zoomed out behind Boshi surrounded by happy Yoshis. We see the back of his shirt for the first time. It says “COACH”.)

———————————— (It's just after sunset. Wide shot of the island, with one figure on the beach some distance away from the commotion)

———————————— (Geno is wearing Boshi's shades, and looking very satisfied with himself. The first stars to come out are reflecting off of the black lenses)

———————————— (Geno pulls a little Star Hill-style wishing star out of his hat…) (INSET: angle from his perspective - in his hands it says a wish:)

“Man, what I wouldn't do to win my last race! Maybe I could even retire with no regrets…”

———————————— (…And then another, much larger wishing star:)

“… oh, who am I kidding? My life is about to be so empty… will anyone even notice I've stopped? I wish I knew what I was going to do…”

(INSET: The words vanish into happy sparkles)

———————————— (View: from the front - Geno is looking down at the stars in his hands)

GENO: Ready to catch another?

(The wishing stars squeak "ye!")

———————————— (Wider angle - with a glow of magic charging up, Geno winds up a pitch like a baseball player)

———————————— (Wide zoomed-out shot of the entire island, the fading colors of sunset, and the brightening starscape above it. Across the sky fly two little shooting stars.)

[maswartz]

Brady, my Great Pyrenees has crossed the Rainbow Bridge at 10 years old.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

[kirnet]

🔈for wyll, piff, Karlach, and astarion

Wyll: yeah it has to be running up that hill - kate bush. he WOULD make a deal with god to swap our places!! ALSO ALSO first light - hozier for my beloved's light motif

Piff: constance - spiritbox. its a song about losing a grandmother, and while piff's is still around, there's a lot of emotion and distance there that really shaped piff into who she is

Karlach: ii - pulses gives me the rage and the death ending vibes :( also the red - chevelle. ALSO ALSO majorly firestarter - cat company... all of these ones hurt i dont have a happy one

Astarion: you KNOW i have to do in a sweater poorly knit - mewithoutyou. the trap i set for you seems to have caught my leg instead....

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ultima Ex Nobis | prol.

-all rights reserved-

Nessian AU word count: 430 words warnings: none summary: Six years into a global pandemic which was caused by a mass fungal infection that turns hosts into zombie-like creatures and makes the whole of Prythian collapse, the former army general Cassian Cadell is tasked with one very special mission – escorting Nesta Archeron, one of the few immune survivors, across a post-apocalyptic Prythian to a group of people of the name L. Their identity  is unknown but they can make an antidote.

A cool wind blows across the landscape, harsh and rough. They are standing on a hill, overlooking the large suburban area below them.

This is the place he has chosen for her, for her to spend her forever. Locks of dark hair are blown into his face and Cassian brings his hand up, brushing it over his forehead. Dread coils in his stomach, his soul empty, his heart shattered, still aching from the loss.

He sniffs once, his gaze moving to his brother standing next to him. “She was my world.”

Azriel’s expression is stoic, eyes empty and focused on the headstone in front of them, on the engraving: 

Tanwyn Cadell. 1987-2018. In loving memory of our beloved daughter, sister, wife. May her soul rest in peace. 

Azriel parts his lips to say some comforting words to his brother, but he gets no chance to do so. The sirens start howling somewhere in the city nearby. The sounds are so high-pitched, they pierce through the men’s ear drums amd make them grimace.

“They are searching again,” the former government spy says in a low voice, his eyes tracking the area below them. A car that looks a lot like an ambulance dashes through the streets, in search of…infected.

One month ago it has started, the numbers are increasing by the minute, the government slowly collapsing.

“It is spreading rapidly,” Cassian mumbled, his hand on its own accord moving to the gun strapped to his hips. “Soon it will be the whole country.” “The whole continent.”

“You heard what they did in Sangravah?” Azriel looks back to the grave, his temples aching fiercely when memories of what he has been met with when arriving there flood his brain. 

“No survivors?” “Only a handful.”

Azriel shoves his hands into his pockets, the cold wind harsh on his scarred skin. He takes a step backwards, eyes narrowing in on a movement in the distance. “How fast the fungus spreads still needs to be discovered, but we are making some progress. Also in the chemistry laboratories they are getting closer to solutions and maybe even antidotes,” the former government employee explains. 

It all sounds too good, he knows this and Azriel is not one to dwell on hope, so these are all just some beliefs that might never come true.

And neither is Cassian one to be specifically positive about that kind of things, especially not about the Cordyceps virus. “We can only hope for now,” he says, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “And survive. First and foremost all, we need to survive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger  @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me @swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @headcanonheadcase